As usual, Bazza has given his take on our game.

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As it happens, my receptionists at work are both football mad; a trait so rare in women at least to the degree that Linda and Juley are. Linda also happens to be the mother of one Matthew Jarvis, the young Wolves winger whom we were looking at before we purchased Neil Danns from Colchester. The eventual choice was an error on our part I suggest but I digress. In exchange for doing the driving I managed to procure a ticket to the game as Linda’s guest and Juley thought it would be fun to come too so having got up at 06.30 on Sunday (there’s dedication for you!)

I picked up the girls in Guildford at eight and we headed north. It was good to have such delightful company for the journey as it was a bit further than usual to Dingle Dell. We picked up another passenger in the form of Matt Jarvis’ fiancée before proceeding to the ground where for once I had the use of a designated parking space in one of the Wolves official car parks. Now Linda told me that the bloke in the car park spoke so fast and with such a local accent that she couldn’t understand a word he said and usually just nodded sagely when she met him. The reason why she couldn’t make out what he was saying was that he spoke pure ‘yam yam’ and I explained that not many people could make head nor tail of what they were on about, sometimes not even themselves, but I would nevertheless do my best to translate.

The said car park steward greeted us warmly and basically told me that ‘Wolves don’ belung in this lygue ‘cos they ai gud in-uff!’ He went on to say ‘Blues’ll beet ‘em tod dyy yam mark moy wurds; wat yam think?’ I tried to be polite by not totally agreeing with him and suggested that I expected Wolves to fly at Blues in the first 20 – 25 minutes and it depended on whether they could get ahead but I thought the most likely result was a draw. Inwardly, I was feeling reasonably confident and I felt that we would score at some stage and provided we weathered the inevitable opening storm we had a good chance of winning. One thing I was sure of; if we scored first, Wolves would be in trouble.

There was a van outside the Stan Cullis stand (there was a fine player [Wolves], good manager [Blues] and a thoroughly honest and decent man) selling hot pork roast sandwiches, and the early start coupled with the chilly day, meant I was ready for one and so were my three companions.

We made our way into the player’s lounge where a welcome hot cup of coffee was available and we watched some of the build up to the afternoon’s football on SKY. Naturally, our game was by far the least important of the games on as far as the media were concerned and the talk was all about the Merseyside clubs and Chelsea and Arsenal. No worries, I’d rather watch a game live anyway. Our seats were just behind and up from the dug outs and we were treated to the pre-match entertainment in the form of some large chested  bird with a passable but over-amplified voice belting out ‘Those were the days my friend’ ending with the line ‘we are the Wolves, oh yes we are the Wolves, lah dah dah dah da da, lah dah dah dah da da, lah dah dah etc etc etc. It was worth a smile if nothing else. Steve Bull was also encouraging the crowd to hold up coloured cards as the teams came out which were meant to be the Wolves logo at each end of the ground but because of the gaps it didn’t quite work. One of the logos only had one eye and another no ears so it made for more mirth one way and another.

Finally the game kicked off and I awaited the Wolves onslaught as previously described. However, it was Blues who took control of the early exchanges and Wolves had barely made a tackle or a foray forward when Chucho chased a ball to prevent it going out for a goal kick, gave it back to Seb Larsson who found Lee Bowyer standing in splendid isolation on the edge of the area with not a Gold shirt anywhere near him. He had time to take a touch, look up and chip the most exquisite lob over Hahnemann’s head into the far corner. It was a beautiful strike and one to grace any football match.

Three minutes gone and we were 1 – 0 up. The Blues fans were opposite where I was sitting and assembled along the full side of the pitch in the lower tier of the stand. They went wild as they should, having witnessed such a fabulous goal. I on the other hand had to remain restrained out of politeness to my hosts and out of fear of getting my head kicked in! Linda had the look of total despair and Juley the face of someone concerned that I was about to break cover.

Wolves would come roaring back surely? Not a bit of it; Blues took complete control of midfield and Wolves were out of ideas within a quarter of an hour. Their game plan seemed all over the place and Mick McCarthy swapped his full backs about to relieve the hapless Mancienne from the torment of James McFadden who was running circles round him.

Halford, whom I understand is the long throw specialist in the Wolves set up, was ceremoniously substituted by Kightly after only 30 minutes so dysfunctional were the hosts’ midfield. Halford used a towel to dry the ball before hurling it 40 yards into our box on a couple of occasions and Liam Ridgewell requested the same courtesy when we had a throw in only to take a short one; nice touch I thought especially as it annoyed the home crowd. Mancienne was to follow Halford to the subs bench after half time so inept was his performance to be replaced by Ward.

Blues bossed the first period so comprehensively that the only negative was that the lead was not 2 – 0 or 3 – 0. Jerome shot straight at Hahnemann having worked a good opening to find himself well placed 15 yards out, the keeper made an excellent save from Bowyer’s shot that deflected off Matt Jarvis’ back and Jarvis should have had a penalty awarded against him when he made a risky lunge for the ball but tripped Scott Dann instead. It did look from my angle that he had taken the ball but from the other side it is clear that it was the blue foot that plays the ball and the gold foot that plays the man. Wolves got away with that one and in a way it would have been awful for Linda if her son’s deflection and a penalty award had been responsible for a 3 – 0 lead.

The second half was a bit more competitive with Wolves having a bit more of the ball without really threatening. Keith Fahey came on late for Chucho when Alex McCleish had decided to settle for the 1 – 0 score line. Once again I was baffled as to why he only used the one sub when if you are going to shut up shop there was Carsley and Vignal available. However, the strategy worked although there were a couple of scary moments near the end when Matt Jarvis connected with a half volley that was brilliantly saved by Paul Hart (his only save of the match) when the keeper failed to punch cleanly.

I told young Matt after the game that I hadn’t driven all this way to watch him being a hero; he laughed and took the comment with good grace. Doyle connected with an overhead kick that would surely have scored had Scott Dann not put his head in the way from point blank range. This epitomised the courage and fortitude shown by him and his central defence partner Roger Johnson who were both excellent again. Bowyer never stopped working and put in another man of the match performance. Barry Ferguson was imperious throughout and James McFadden, different class. Stephen Carr turned in another great performance and kept the dangerous Jarvis quiet by man marking him. Ridgewell was hardly tested on the other flank.

The only exciting moment of note in the second half was a swift breakaway from a Wolves corner that Jerome started running half the length of the pitch before giving the ball to McFadden who still had Ridgewell completely free on his right. He rightly felt there was no need to use him and committed to the shot instead. The slightest of deflections by the desperately retreating Ward was enough to take the ball agonisingly wide of the far post with Hahnemann beaten. This missed opportunity made the four minutes of time added on nervous and besides the Doyle chance a free header by Berra was sent over the bar and with that chance Wolves’ hopes were finally extinguished.

In truth they deserved nothing from this game, so superior were Birmingham on this occasion. This was a good performance which should have resulted in a far more comprehensive victory. As for Wolves, they face a long hard winter; most of their squad are simply not good enough and apart from Doyle, Jarvis, Stearman, Iwelumo and Kightly when fit they have very little quality of Premiership standard. The gulf between the sides was plain for all to see and that is worrying because Blues themselves have a long way to go before they are a top half side. Wolves will at the very least have to show a great deal more commitment than this performance if they are to survive. Their next match against Bolton at home could well define their season. As for Blues; same again at Wigan please!

KRO SOTV