I don’t think I have ever wanted something to happen more in sport in my entire life than for Claudio Ranieri’s side to win the Premier League

Something extraordinary is happening in the world of football. Something that defies logic. Something truly magical. Something that makes me well up with emotion because this something is happening to my team. The team I have supported since I was the size of a multipack of crisps.

I watched Leicester City lose in the 1969 FA Cup final with my dad and granddad when I was eight and cried all the way home. I have seen them get promoted and relegated. I played for them for eight years. I even got a group of like‑minded fans and friends to stump up a few quid to salvage the club when they went into liquidation. But nothing compares to this. Nothing. Things like this just do not happen to clubs like mine.

Before Monday night’s fixture against Newcastle, Leicester are top of the Premier League. Not just top but two points clear with a game in hand, and it’s not September, it’s March.

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This is, with a couple of notable additions, the same Leicester side that at this stage of last season was languishing, seemingly doomed, at the bottom of the table.

What has happened since then is beyond remarkable. Firstly, under the guidance of Nigel Pearson, the Foxes staged the most miraculous of escapes to maintain their top-tier status.

Pearson then, much to the disappointment of the vast majority of Leicester fans, was sacked, presumably for the outrageous behaviour of three young players on tour, one of whom was the manager’s son.

Mayhem ensued. A new man in charge was needed and quickly.

Enter Claudio Ranieri. At this point I feel I should come clean and say that, like many others, I felt it was a pretty uninspired choice. In his previous job he managed a Greek national side that lost to the Faroe Islands. Not that I could have got away without such a statement anyway – Twitter would never allow that to happen.

Oh how wrong I was, how wonderfully, spectacularly, blissfully wrong.

The bookies agreed with me, Leicester were the overwhelming favourites to be relegated. Who then could possibly have envisaged what would transpire?

What we are witnessing, should Leicester go on to win the title, is quite possibly the most unlikely triumph in the history of team sport. A collection of individuals who couldn’t win a football match for love nor money a year ago have turned into an invincible force. A team with a spirit and togetherness the like of which the game has seldom seen. All beautifully held together by the canny, inspirational – yes, inspirational – Tinkerman.

So how do we fathom the unfathomable? It couldn’t, as has been mooted by some, be down to the fact that Richard III was buried in Leicester around the same time as the Foxes revival began, could it? A Premier League crown? Superstitious nonsense, surely?

Well, let’s have a go at the real reasons. Players who struggled in their first season in the top flight began to find their feet, encouraged, of course, by the staggering climax to that campaign. Jamie Vardy started to score the goals that his lightning speed of foot and monstrous effort promised he might.

Riyad Mahrez, the twinkle-toed, twiglet-legged genius, was conjuring up his magic week in, week out. The addition of the ubiquitous N’Golo Kanté alongside a fitter Danny Drinkwater provided a midfield duo unrivalled by any in the Premier League this season. Elsewhere there is an outlandish energy to the side supplied by the likes of Marc Albrighton, Shinji Okazaki and Jeffrey Schlupp.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Leicester City’s manager, Claudio Ranieri, and Riyad Mahrez have helped conjure what could be the most unlikely triumph in the history of team sport. Photograph: BPI/Rex/Shutterstock

Kasper Schmeichel has been outstanding in goal as well as possessing obvious leadership qualities he may have inherited. Then, and this is the most astounding aspect of this side, there is an ensemble of journeymen defenders who have come together to form a back four that have bonded with a “thou shalt not pass” mentality that appeared beyond them earlier in the season. In that back four, though, there is experience and calm heads.

It is not a team that relishes possession, this is a team that exploits the opposition’s possession, or rather their loss of it. Perfectly organised, fabulously competitive, they counter with electrifying brilliance. They are an exceptionally good side.

It remains to be seen whether Leicester can see this through. It could all fall apart in the home stretch. This most unreal of dreams could turn into a miserable reality. I hope not.

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I don’t think I have ever wanted something to happen more in sport in my entire life. It is utterly joyous observing the delight that my three Leicester-supporting boys are feeling. Even my eldest, George, a lifelong Manchester United fan (he has always been contrary), is enthused by the Foxes’ charge.

As for my dad, well he recently tweeted: “I’ve waited over 70 years for this. Fucking brill.” I get a real sense too that football fans the world over feel the same way. The pressure will mount with every passing week. With expectation comes danger. They have, though, shown no fear thus far. No sign of wavering under the magnitude of what they might achieve. They are on the edge of sporting immortality.

Don’t be afraid, my team. Make it yours. As Shakespeare’s Richard III said: “What do I fear? Myself?”