The man who once lifted the Premier League trophy against all odds now faces a statistical improbability of a different kind. Christian Fuchs, the former Leicester City title-winner, is now at the helm of Newport County, the club sitting at the very foot of the English Football League. With a wry smile, he frames the monumental task ahead. “The odds of us turning this around are probably better than Leicester’s were in 2016,” he notes. “So, in a way, history is on our side.”
His journey from champion left-back to rookie manager at a struggling League Two side is unconventional. “The logical question is ‘why?’” Fuchs acknowledges with a laugh during a conversation at his new base in South Wales. “And the answer is the part that isn’t logical.” For the 39-year-old Austrian, it represents the ultimate test, a chance to prove himself in the dugout by attempting to stave off relegation to non-league football.
The office overlooking a university astroturf pitch is a world away from the King Power Stadium, but reminders of his past life are close. A supportive letter from a Leicester fan sits alongside a cherished card from the Newport supporters. His drive for this new chapter is deeply personal, forged from early doubt. “I was told at 11 I’d never be good enough,” he recalls. “That either breaks you or makes you say, ‘I’ll show you.’ I’m stubborn. When I see potential, I go for it.”
He intends to draw heavily on his eclectic managerial education. He speaks fondly of Claudio Ranieri’s transformative, hands-off approach at Leicester. “He watched us for a week and said he wouldn’t change a thing. That trust was everything.” From Thomas Tuchel, his coach during a loan spell at Mainz, he absorbed a relentless focus on the psychological. “He was always asking, ‘How do I get more from the players? How do I create better decision-makers?’ That’s a big part of our approach here.”
That approach is data-informed and philosophically clear. Reviewing a recent draw, he points to promising metrics on ball progression but is dissatisfied with an 87% pass accuracy rate. “That needs to be in the mid-90s,” he insists. “We want to be different. A five-yard pass has a higher chance of finding its target than just going long. That’s not who we will be.”
The scale of the challenge is stark. Newport’s form is dire, with just three league wins all season and a home victory drought stretching back nine months. Yet, a gritty last-gasp equaliser with ten men in midweek offered a flicker of the spirit Fuchs is trying to ignite. “We need to be a force at home,” he states firmly. “We need to build a fortress. It’s simply not good enough.”
Ultimately, Fuchs is not a distant tactician. He is, by his own admission, still a player at heart, often joining in training drills. “I’m part of the group,” he says, tapping his chest. “We are one team. They are on the pitch, but we are in this together.” At the bottom of the league, the fox is now in the dugout, plotting another great escape.