A Step Forwards (666 remix)

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To be honest I can’t say any more denigrating faintly humorous stuff about Roy Hodgson, or Zaha to be honest. Hodgson is a pale Owl of a man and his teams are the same, they are vapid and fucking weird. The whole place is weird including Zaha who has a Spider plant on his head the fucking doughnut. I’ve not run out of things to say about them but I think I’ll leave it to one side a minute (or not). But what a fucking hell hole the place is, it’s like a Death camp for people that don’t know they are alive. Fucking horrible and full of cunts to be honest. It always rains, it’s Morrisey in a stadium, depressing, it makes me feel fucking ill going there, I had more laughs when I had chemo. Jesus fucking holy Christ I feel sorry for the poor bastards going there. Fair fucking play muckas, Jesus Christ. I’d rather eat Ed Sheerans hair than go there again. I heard Benno has every Ed Sheeran guitar made. Benno get in touch lets have a jam session get those Sheerans buzzing like they were never designed to do. Ed Sheeran fucking hell, I’ve had it up to here with warbling cunts on acoustics moaning about not getting a shag.

So, this game was important on a metaphysical level rather than an empirical point scoring one. It was a point on our travels fair enough. But how did the team do in a wet mouldy Croydon again? It must be hard trying to garner some sort of fucking effort in Croydon. The whole place wants to make you lie down and fucking die. But there they were getting off the Team Coach to go into the stadium, all fucking glum. Jota looked like he wanted to stab somebody, Bolys eyes were darting everywhere, Neves looked pissed off, Nuno was off to a funeral it looked like. Matt Doherty looked as pissed off as he always does so no change there. Coady looking beautiful as ever. 

Jesus Fucking Christ the poor bastards. Haven’t they had enough all week with all those spotty fucking football virgins on Twitter giving it large on Social media. It’s not only the Virgins either it’s the powdery Wolves Dads too the fucking slap head spatulas. I love social media, it’s full of those lunatics you see in town and at the match with their fucking phones glued to their hands dribbling and bumping into things like head the balls. Of course I’m going to listen to your inputs you fucking freaks. I’ve actually met some of you at matches or in pubs and yes you are fucking horrible. I met some right stupid fucked up cunts down the canal when I’m walking the dags. They talk more football sense than most people on Twitter, and don’t forget these canal pissheads often shit themselves in times of intense inebriation. I should get them cheap phones and on Twitter.

Well Diogo Jota levelled in the last minute. A bloody deserved leveller too. Palace ‘Ultras’ shut up at last the little pricks. Those fucking glum faces when the goal went in were a fucking delight to be honest. Shitheads. Serves them right for living in a cack hole like Croydon.

Of course I was watching it on the electronic square thing and to be fair I nearly kicked the fucking screen in with delight. Not for the team of course, or the result, just that it would send those Palace fans back home with a right itchy angst bone, the poor bastards. I hope they sat there in the evening punching themselves in the balls and going on SOCMED moaning and posting wank gifs. Last minute levellers mate, lovely, I could taste the blood in my mouth as it went in, not because it was bleeding at the time but if I was there I would have definitely got an elbow in the mouth or a head in the limbnal mosh that occurred as Jota smashed it into the top of the net. I even started doing wanker signs at the screen, I wanted to throw it through the window and beat up that fat cunt Villa fan over the road. 

Who are we? I think over the past few weeks we have kind of forgotten. I remarked to some canal pisshead that these rough weeks would either galvanise the squad to some level of beauty we had last season or send us spiralling into some whirlpool of nothingness. He just looked at me like I was a mental, he only said ‘orite mate’ before I collared the little filthy tramp to talk football. You see I was also emotional and I didn’t know who I was most of the last couple of weeks. I think it is a Wolverhampton thing, maybe a change in the weather, end of summer all that shite. Was it four straight fucking losses we would have had if the scores would have remained the same? Fuck knows, I’ve had enough days looking at numbers. I’m not sure as I don’t really dwell on negative things, but I don’t bury my head in the sand either. 

But the amount of trust I put in Nuno is more than I have ever given another Manager, and I can say Nuno stands with John Barnwell and Graham Turner in that respect and that’s a small club for someone that’s supported Wolves for…bloody hell 47 fucking years nearly. Jesus Christ it’s nearly killed me watching this team home and away. Watching Nuno (as I do a lot) I can tell that the whole subject of why we aren’t killing teams off is bothering him. He looks fucking angry and a bit mad, ready to slice somebody up. Don’t attack Woy for fucks sake, he’d just explode into a mist of skin flakes and blood thinners. On the touchline our Nuno, well, he’s doing the old moustache licking again and his legs and arms are exploding shapes. Not in a theatrical sense but emotionally. He wants to run on and start kicking the fuck out of somebody I’m sure of it. Maybe this crazy journey is his too, maybe he doesn’t quite understand where he is some times.

When Saissy got sent to the stands I was in two minds. One of them was having a go at Saissy for stepping on Zahas foot. The little Gremlin of a Referee Atwell (remember him) had no doubts and boshed the card out that fast it nearly caught fire. Atwell, fucking hell. He’s like your Nan finding your browser history or looking for the nail scissors in your Moms dressing table drawer and pulling out a fluff covered three foot long black dildo. That’s why you have a dent in your head then? Atwell…fucking hell…it rhymes as well hahahaha.

But in the other mind the more sensible non dildo one I could see how it affected Saiss. He was gutted but stoical for sure. Fucked off, a bit embarrassed. He went a bit pale and he knew he had made a guff somewhere, I mean old Spider Plant Zaha wasn’t actually going anywhere but when you have a player with the lunacy of Saiss there are bound to be weird fucked up moments when he just wants the ball back regardless of where it is. I suppose it was his hunger to get the ball that lead to the foul. That’s ok, I want players who want the ball. Palace weren’t really doing anything constructive in that ‘Palace’ way they have when they wonder if playing football there has any point at all. Maybe there was no need, maybe there was every need? Even Boly had some moments when things could have gone weird again. I suspect he’s been told to enlarge his personal space on the pitch and he is just getting to grips with what that actually means. It means he runs off at times to get the ball when it isn’t really his job. Fucking hell Boly you beautiful man, I love you.

You see Nuno and his staff have a central tenet and that is ‘we must always improve’. Now that isn’t just a throw away line to these dudes. It means day in and day out they have to be better than they were yesterday. You try that with anything you do in your life. See what discipline actually is. I’m fucking useless at it but that’s why I’m not a footballer. But I can see it is what we are missing a bit maybe. 

Indeed we threw our own shapes into the mix but Guaita and McArthur were doing things for Palace in the goal mouth. McArthur looks like one of those blokes that smells of sweat whenever you see him, it hangs around like a cloud of flies. I bet his duvet stinks. Half fucking chances, full fucking chances…but fucking chances nonetheless and for the love of Nuno they nearly went in too we were that close and still struggling with that identity crisis. We were a bit better than Palace, not brilliant but better riding the lip of the groove threatening to slip fully into it and rip some holes. Jota of course hadn’t read about this fucking identification problem, he doesn’t give a shit and was the same Diogo he always is. Probing, moving the ball, looking for space. How such a little dude shakes off the hundredweight sack of spuds Palace call their defence I haven’t got a clue mate. But he does doesn’t he? Then he is off on another fruitless run. I know people like Jota who never give up and they scare me. He probably couldn’t wait to get back home and talk to the severed heads he keeps in his fridge and Jonny keeps bringing more of them back home!

The first 45 minutes was Wolves looking a bit like Wolves again but there was the odd moment where a pass was 100mph knee height bollocks, a couple of passes going North and moments when our defence looked like they had been dragged through a hedge backwards…then forwards. But on the whole we kept plant pot head and Ayew quite quiet and reserved apart from some barrelling runs they made and we forgot who we were again. Zaha is a tricky little bastard…well a big lanky bastard. Trouble with him is that it’s all about him, everything he does is him as the main act.

I sat thinking is it a lack of beautiful Kwan for Wolves or have they got another fucking identity crisis? Second half is started with a dodgy deflection again and boom into the goal regardless of Rui Patricios stretching and shaping. He wasn’t far from getting a leg on it to be honest. It was that unlucky Kwanless feeling again. I want that Kwan back desperately. I want to punch myself in the balls and I have a go at the screen. The dogs fuck off into the dining room. Roll another fucking fag. Fuck off.

But the interesting thing about this Wolves team is that they have adopted this crazy fight until the end philosophy from Jota I’m sure of it. They just never give up, carry on having a pop at them, see if anything pops up. Get the rhythm going again, feeling the vibe out, busting another defence splitting pass. Traore (who is awesome all game) keeps trying it on too. I think there was only a few of us last season bigging Traore up now he is drifting these shapes everybody is on there knees trying trying to gobble his dong. Last season he had moments when he was fucking Seagull or Moon watching. He still has those moments but they are getting rarer and rarer for me. But everybody fought hard, everybody got involved. Everybody had some sort of a pop. Even when Nuno started throwing on subs early doors here was a statement. Time to get the fucking party started in some way. Put Neto on the tricky little sod. They had obviously seen a need for change and why not do it as soon as the problem was identified? They did, boom, players on and there was a new sense of urgency going on as we started to press and press. Started to be ourselves again really. Stamping authority in thick lush passes from midfield again with Adama linking and starting to move and groove.  This is what we do. Palace players looked fucked twenty minutes from the end and we looked like we could have played another 20 minutes.

Moutinho bothers me. Why does he play for us? How does he play for us? This bloke for me is pound for pound the best player to ever play in a Wolves shirt. He is absolutely divine, sublime and he shines. Beautiful weighted passes here and there, movement is to all first impressions languid and understated until you look at the wider aspects of the play and you watch how he moves around into the BEST places when he doesn’t have the ball. His brain, his footballing brain is taking up the slack from a body that is getting maybe a little slower so he thinks more about what he is doing. Those movements bring him into dangerous areas where he can collect, breathe, and send the ball off to the foot of somebody more able to attack. But he waits and he moves again without the ball, into another area, he will collect again and another chance another run at the Palace defence. Gobsmacked mate to be honest. God knows what our other players are slowly learning off him but I hope this osmosis of talent is slowly leaking into heads around him. I know Adama should watch how he moves, I know Neves is.

For sure that 3-4-3 groove is looking tasty. I’m not sure whether we have totally got to grips with it yet. Jota left side, Jimmy in the middle, Adama on the right. One of these days that system will click and it will be chaos in opposition defences again but it’s a string to the bow. A tactic, not a plan B. I don’t believe Nuno even offers a thought to having Wolves play to the vagaries of an opposition Mangers plans. It’s not his way. But I think Nuno picks tactics more to do with how the team looks that week. Who is vibing off who, what looks effective for that side he wants to pick. For the previous two games we looked like the gap between Moutinho and our attack was an abyss. I wish I knew what the fuck I was talking about when I wax tactics, I need to go on a fucking wank FA course or something. There was no link, no real connectivity and no one wanted to exploit that gap and push forwards into the final third. That left Jota and Jimmy twiddling their thumbs a lot. This is also (maybe) an identity issue, we lack a lunatic who grabs the ball and trundles off to attack. Big Alf used to do that job and to be honest I think we may have missed him a little. But who knows eh.

All I know is Traore slices in a ball at the death of the match and Jota is Jota not giving much of a thought to anything but whacking that ball in the top of the net. Is it a change in our fortunes? I hope so. All I want now is for our defensive line up to suss out what’s going on in front of them. I’m not going to write of Jesus Vallejo yet despite watching him fluff some moves out, I think he has the ability to come good in the Benno role, I also think Benno himself can come good again in the Benno role, hopefully. That trio has to start clicking again. Coady for me is trying to cover up for the dysfunction around him, I think he is that good a footballer there’s no place in his head for a drop of form, it has to be things happening around him. Attackers sense there is something fractured in the way we defend lately and are concentrating on forcing errors rather than directly attacking our defence which I suppose is a positive thing. I have a headache with all of it to be fair. Learning curves, I’ve never thought so deeply about the intricacies of playing football, never looked at it forensically like I do now and I’m learning too. Because I want to be able to understand what the hell is going on when our Citys team walk out onto the pitch.

It’s a good result to be honest. I’m not losing me fucking hair worrying too much about how things are going to pan out over the season. Trusting the Coach is a new thing for me, I’ve never had so much confidence in anybody connected with our team before. If anybody can sort out this negative zeitgeist it’s him and his backroom team. It’s a good foundation to build on though. Watford on Saturday will be very interesting and very fraught seeing as at this early point in the season we are bobbling around in the nether regions of the Premier League and that gives me horrible feeling to be honest. But watching Cutrone hugging Jota after Diogo scored gave me hope. Cutrone looks like he is getting a half lob on for Wolves, starting to understand how fucked up and crazy the whole thing is. Here is a team that will go beyond what is acceptable to win matches and fight until the very last kick. I like that, it gives me a bit of hope when things seem a little dark. Fair fucking play Wolves. That fat Villa bastard over the road survives another week. 

Any way I’ve scaffed a ticket off the Lurpak kid so I’m going to see the young lads play against Reading, hahahahaha remember them?

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