Leicester 3-1 Leeds

	Celebration time: Eadie (left), Akinbiyi and Savage enjoy Leicester's first goal (RossKinnaird/Allsport)

The taunts began before kick-off. They were predictable, yet potent. Rio Ferdinand, together with Leeds United's bank manager, will pray they are not prescient.

'What a waste of money,' the Filbert Street faithful chanted, as Britain's costliest footballer stumbled through a travesty of a debut.

Leeds were mocked for the extravagance of their ambition, mauled by a team determined to make a point on behalf of the have-nots of the Premiership.

David O'Leary, forced to abandon his experiment with a three man defence well before half-time, will not care to dwell on the irony of Peter Taylor's tactical triumph.

England's caretaker coach, whose faith in Ferdinand's abilities extends to the assertion that he is, indeed, worth £18 million, exploited unfamiliar opponents with textbook ruthlessness.

He employed Muzzy Izzet in attack, calculating, correctly, that his movement would widen the fault lines between the three strangers in whom O'Leary placed inordinate faith.

It worked so successfully that the game was won within 28 minutes - all that Leicester required to score three times.

It was stabilised as a contest only in the 37th minute, when O'Leary substituted Jonathan Woodgate and reverted to 4-4-2 with Ferdinand alongside Lucas Radebe.

To make a perfect afternoon complete, Ferdinand was required to adjust to yet another partner, Dominic Matteo, when Radebe was sent-off midway through the second half for his second bookable offence, a foul on the irrepressible Izzet.

Of course, it is facile to blame Ferdinand for Leeds' humiliation. But that will not prevent the reaction to this defeat, which leaves Leeds having won only two of their last 12 matches, being hysterical, premature.

Rio and rationality are words that will rarely be seen in the same sentence from now on. The moment the electronic money transfer between Leeds and West Ham went through he was saddled with absurdly inflated expectations.

Listen to some of the murmurs amplified in the popular prints, and he will single-handedly arrest the decline of English football as we know it. End Manchester United's monopoly? Ferdinand's your man. Transform Leeds into a national treasure? He'll do the trick.

At this rate he will discover the cure for the common cold, and then give up his millions to work with the underprivileged in the Third World.

Nonsense, of course. Ferdinand's principal responsibility is to prove he can develop in tandem with a young, naturally evolving, team.

The portents yesterday were hardly encouraging. Leicester, who have managed to maintain the underdog culture established, so adroitly, by Martin O'Neill, relished the imposition of harsh reality.

Their back three, Gary Rowett, Matt Elliott and Gerry Taggart, cost £4.6 million. Loose change in these inflated times, in which the value of collective endeavour is seriously underestimated.

Economics, as much as anything, left O'Leary with little option but to tinker with the system.

It did not matter that, because Ferdinand will be absent against Lazio in Rome's Olympic Stadium on Tuesday, yesterday's line up was a one-off.

Ferdinand, used on the left side of the three, was uncomfortable, uncharacteristically unsure. It hardly helped that all three centre-halves appeared to have forgotten some of the basic tenets of their trade.

Defeat was assured before they realised the fundamental importance of being able to head the ball properly. They were pulled out of position with embarrassing ease.

It was no coincidence that their downfall should have been triggered by the indefatigable Robbie Savage. Not content with compensating for the faults of Neil Lennon, who appeared to be diverted by his impending move to Celtic, he demonstrated a natural opportunism.

The opening seven minutes had, inevitably, centred on Ferdinand. He was ritually abused, and fortunate to escape when a Savage shot struck his extended left leg and thudded into the stomach of Paul Robinson.

But then Robinson could only parry an Izzet drive. Savage's header was instinctive, but he was unmarked. Ferdinand might have been a matter of feet away, but, for all his impact he could have been in the next county.

Things went from bad to worse ten minutes later, when Frank Sinclair chipped a cross to the far post. Ade Akinbiyi outjumped Woodgate, and steered a powerful scoring header between Ferdinand and Robinson.

Radebe was incandescent with rage. He barked at Woodgate, was lucky to avoid conceding a penalty when he aimed at fore-arm jab at Izzet, and then picked up his first booking for a foul on the Turk.

When Taggart lost Woodgate, and rose above Radebe to head in Leicester's third, the crowd's joy was complete. 'Rio, Rio what's the score?' they chanted.

In the circumstances Mark Viduka's 74th-minute goal, a close-range effort after an Alan Smith shot had been charged down, was scant consolation.