The signing of Jordan Ayew was a gamble that showed little sign of wisdom from the moment it was made, and one that has proven even more damaging than early scepticism suggested it might.
Watching a player of such limited influence occupy a central role has been a difficult experience for Leicester supporters. Ayew has looked ill-suited to the physical demands of the Championship, let alone anything approaching Premier League pace and intensity.
The decision to hand him the number nine shirt carries its own symbolism. That jersey was worn by Jamie Vardy for years, a player whose work rate, hunger and clinical finishing became woven into the fabric of the club. Passing it to Ayew feels less like a footballing decision and more like a statement of disconnection from everything Leicester City supporters hold dear. It suggests a leadership group out of touch with the identity and values of the club they are running.
On the pitch, the problems are plain to see. Teammates frequently bypass him, and the body language around him points to a fundamental lack of confidence in a striker whose goal return does not simply disappoint but calls into question why he is in the starting lineup at all.
The situation reached a new low during Saturday’s defeat to Norwich. Footage from the match and the reaction of supporters paint a picture of a player who appeared detached from the contest entirely. When Ayew came off the bench, he should have brought energy and urgency to a side in desperate need of both. Instead, the performance was laboured and indifferent, a stark contrast to the spirit that Leicester fans expect and deserve.
If the management continue to rely on Ayew, even acknowledging the limited alternatives available, they risk more than dropping points. They risk eroding the fighting identity that has defined this club, an identity built on relentless effort that Ayew, for all his experience, has consistently failed to provide.