Day has turned to night, night has turned to day, and the picture broadly looks the same. Wolves are still up the creek, without a paddle. The result probably betrays what was actually a pretty decent Wolves performance, but as the tree goes up, Wolves look more down than ever.
The good news? The chances of football being banned and you’ll never have to watch it again are slim, but not zero. The bad news? Does feel a bit unlikely, so chances are you are going to have to watch it again.
What’s that? You’ll just stop watching? Doesn’t work like that chum. You’re unfortunately committed to this football club until your last day on earth. For worse or for worse, in sickness and in misery, til death do you part. Written by Oliver Butler.
The Dial Has Started To Turn
Is it too late to save our season? Is it a fruitless endeavour to try? Either way, the first half showed that the dial is starting to turn, and Wolves look more positive going forward, and indeed, going for goal. The difference between a stalemate and a comprehensive lead at half time was Martinez’s fingertips and “The Colombian Pele” Jhon Arias.
From the top of the world to the bottom of the football pyramid, Wolves have always been somewhat cursed, so it was unsurprising to see that we should’ve been at least 30-0 up, but went in at the break goalless. However, if you can’t have goals, the promise of goals maybe happening will suffice.
The second half didn’t see the hunger wane, whether it was Bellegarde taking Cash’s lunch money, JSL coming within inches of scoring again, or the bulldog spirit to turn the ball around, this finally looked like a team that not only wanted to play football, but to play it well.
It wasn’t that bad?
If anything, it’s the least surprising thing in the world that we nearly scored so many goals and ended up losing anyway.
Nobody in football is truly happy with their lot. Even Arsenal fans are probably upset about something that is incredibly trivial and annoying. Wolves fans are obviously incredibly unhappy with their lot at present.
But, 1-0 is a harsh scoreline and a harsh result. If you had wheels, you’d be a bicycle, so the word “if” means nothing. However, if the ball had moved a few inches one way or the other, or moved a bit quicker, Wolves could’ve been on the positive end of a cricket score.
Hopefully this is a sign of things to come, rather than a flash in the pan. If we keep on going this way, things will start to work. It might feel too late to save ourselves, but the season’s only over when that big (R) appears next to your name.
The Dial Isn’t Turning Quick Enough
If the danger of being completely cut off from safety hasn’t emerged, it will emerge by the time that Jools Holland tinkles the ivories in his annual Hootenanny. Our peers are picking up points where they should, and sometimes where they shouldn’t, and yet, we find ourselves further and further away from safety.
After having more Ls than a Welsh train station, the prospect of a draw, never mind a win, feels unimaginable. The bookies have us down, the boffins predict we’ll break Derby’s record, and the AI thinks we’re, well, slop.
The ball’s getting better at going forwards, but still finds itself going sideways or backwards. Everyone is guilty of being an armchair manager, but it’s not unfair to say that the ball needs to go forward if you want to score.
The solutions may be in the squad, the solutions may be in an actually smart January transfer window, the solution may actually be the salvation of relegation, but the solutions need to be found in the back of the net if we’re to stand a chance of being in the Premier League next year.
The Past Three Years Just Could Not Be More Different
It’s hard to feel positive, even in a scenario when there’s actually very little to be negative about. Truly, we really weren’t that bad, despite once again taking another loss.
However, a lot of Wolves fans love living in the past, so let’s take a trip down memory lane to October 2022. Both Wolves and Villa, pallidly plodding along in the PL sacked their managers, with Bruno Lage and Steven Gerrard shown the door.
In the time period since, Villa have become European regulars, found themselves in the Champions League, and though they won’t see themselves winning the title any time soon, they give a halfway decent account of themselves both at home and on the continent.
There’s been some good business and some good football played, all under the consistent, steady hand of Unai Emery.
Just down the M6, and the picture could not be more different. Constant flirtation with relegation, the sort of business nous that would get you fired by Alan Sugar, and the closest you’ll get to continental action is if Jeff took them to Cosmo for a works night out.
It’s easy to dunk on your rivals, (fun too!), but it’s hard to not look towards Aston and feel jealous. They had Black Sabbath in the summer, we’d be lucky to get turned down by Ned’s Atomic Dustbin, for Christ’s sake.
As November gives way to December, there is no season of good cheer. No goals. No hope. No way out.
Merry Christmas!
