Khun Vichai: The man who made a Heaven of Leicester City’s Hell
Vichai Srivaddhanaprabha’s was so common a sight on matchdays that none of us were ever able to truly cherish it. Now that we realise we won’t see the great man again, it gives us the chills.
In the space of a few terrible days, the King Power Stadium has gone from being a place with ebullience galore to one with a biting gauntness. It’s almost as if ichor has been deprived of its God. There’s absolutely no one in Leicester who can come to terms with the fact that Srivaddhanaprabha’s shiny blue helicopter would never grace the pitch again, for the shiny blue figure and its owner had both formed an indispensable part of the Foxes faithful’s lives.
Who would have thought that a man who chose to buy Leicester City merely because it’s colours matched with his company, King Power Duty Free, would go on to establish a bond so strong and incommensurable with the club and its fans in the space of eight years? Not even a professional vaticinator would have dared to think of it.
But Khun Vichai was here to soar against the odds. Following the £40 million takeover of Leicester from Milan Mandaric in 2010 – three years after his company had become the East Midlanders’ shirt sponsors – he loaned a Brobdingnagian £103 million to the club. As if that wasn’t enough, he converted all of that into equity before snaffling the stadium in 2011 from the American investment firm that owned it at the time.
It was clear now that he was not your average owner whose gluttonous pockets were detrimental to the interests of a club already already rich in shemozzle. He was just a class apart. He was here to make a Heaven of Leicester’s hell. He was here to bring peace to Leicester’s pandemonium – and that was to be accomplished in the most melodramatic of all fashions.
As Leicester finally won the Championship in 2014, it was then that Srivadhhanaprabha expressed his wish to be in the top five of the Premier League in the upcoming three years. In doing so, he left himself open to the persiflage of the footballing world. Every man resting on his chaise longue thought that this Thai businessman knew nothing, and had simply overestimated the value of a division two title. A couple years later, nearly everyone would need a rehoboam to eat and digest his words.
Having somehow pulled off an escape worthy of a trophy in their first season in the top division with Nigel Pearson, Leicester started afresh with Claudio Ranieri at the helm. There were eyebrows raised again, but when Ranieri’s Foxes beat Manchester city by an emphatic 3-1 at the Etihad Stadium in February, all that rose was the expectations. Perhaps for the first time in its history, the city of Leicester could smell England’s ultimate prize. The miasma of the previous failures was gone, this was the time for the aroma of success.
At last, almost three months later on May 3, 2016, the moment was here. Leicester were the champions of England. No one could quite believe it, and quite frankly, no one still can. But there was one man who dreamed of it, and he ensured that he fulfilled it. The best part about the triumph was that it was achieved with the supporters pretty much placed in the centre circle. They were always the priority – they still are, just as the principles they’ve embraced are, the traditions they’ve followed are.
Winning the Premier League was never meant to be an ego boost for Srivaddhanaprabha, nor a way of maximising his profits. It was his gift to the fans, one of the many gifts that he gave for all of those eight years – these gifts ranging from a BMW for the Leicester players to millions for Leicester-based charities, and from free food to free beer on certain matchdays. There’s such a plethora of his acts of generosity that you could write 1,000 words and still belie what he did.
And that is precisely why Srivaddhanaprabha’s loss is irreparable. It’s a failure on Father Time’s part that a profusion of magical moments orchestrated by him has to be followed by an abundance of forlornly reflections. It’s a shame.