I woke in the middle of the night earlier this week with a knot in my stomach and in a cold sweat.

Though I don’t really want to talk about it.

My worry? Not work, although that does frequently keep me awake in the small hours.

This time, (Monday, Tuesday and Friday in fact) it was the question of whether the powers of King Richard III are on the wane

My football team of the last 45 years, Leicester City, are top of the Premier League, the richest and most popular league in the world.

So far, so what?

Well it’s a big deal to Leicester fans, even those like me, who have never lived in this multicultural, somewhat timid and uncertain city in the East Midlands.

And in fact a lot of people associated with the beautiful game seems to think it’s something of a fairy story and will be one of the biggest stories in the history of football if they pull it off.

The odds were 5,000 to 1 at the beginning of the season.

There are four games to go and the title is down to just the Foxes and Tottenham Hotspur.

So where does the last of the Plantaganets come in?

When Richard was dug up from his resting place in a council car park in 2012, a mile from the appropriately named King Power Stadium, the Foxes win ratio in the top flight was just 32 per cent.

But since the king had his big reburial ceremony at Leicester Cathedral in March last year, that percentage has rocketed to 63.

In fact when he was reburied with full civic honours, they were rock bottom of the league and heading for relegation.

A week later they started winning - beginning a run that that has taken them to the brink of being champions.

They’ll certainly finish higher than the likes of Manchester City, Manchester United and Chelsea.

And they will be playing in Europe next season. And King Richard is credited with a small walk on part in this rather amazing story as well as helping to give the city a sense of identity.

Why does it keep me awake?

Supporters of any club will tell you just how much the fortunes of their beloved team have affected them day and in day out.

Just ask fans of AFC Bournemouth who have shared more up and downs than most over the years.

And as I sat having a coffee around the corner from Leicester’s ground on Sunday before the last game, I found myself becoming emotional and the tears welling.

I realised that it was 45 years ago this very month that my old man, who died last year, first took me to see them play as a boy

I have been going ever since.

The fortunes of a football club in a city where I have never lived been intertwined with my own every season since 1971, to the extent that I have a season ticket and make the 360 mile round trip from Highcliffe to the King Power for every other weekend.

On Sunday, in a rather well-publicised match against West Ham, the Foxes only drew and had their talismanic striker sent off.

Spurs have closed the gap, at least until tomorrow.

The sleepless nights will go on a bit longer.

The worry is that King Richard might have lost his touch.

Of course, at the end of the day, to be fair, keeping things in perspective and in the final analysis Gary, it’s only a game, isn’t it?

There’s been no winter of discontent in Leicester, just a few weeks of growing anxiety.

But like I said, I don’t really want to talk about it.

Not yet anyway.