Michael Calvin's Big Match Verdict: Fans' unrest leaves bittersweet taste for McCarthy after Wolves comeback

By Michael Calvin in Mirror Football Blog

Published 22:30 22/10/11

Roy Keane may beg to differ, but Mick McCarthy has earned respect.

He was scorned, abused, pilloried. It was a joyless, dispiriting experience.

His response, when Jamie O’Hara scored an equaliser which beggared belief, was telling.

McCarthy punched the air, glowered at his accusers in the main stand, and angrily kicked out at a water bottle.

He hadn’t calmed down more than an hour later. He was taut with tension, defensive, sour.

His anger was raw and his disdain for Wolves fans will increase the pressure. He’s in the mood to take on the world.

He’s a good man, who refuses to hide from himself. He understands the game and the alchemy of his trade.

He introduced himself to Wolves fans, back in 2006, with the immortal line: “MM stands for Mick McCarthy, not Merlin Magician”.

There is a kind of magic in establishing a club in the Premier League, but the spell doesn’t last for ever.

Ignore the result. There are lies, damn lies and yesterday’s scoreline at Molineux.

Wolves have all the hallmarks of a team in terminal decline, despite the combination of complacency and naivety which gifted them a point.

It will not take much for McCarthy’s players to revert to type – fearful, static and desperate to avoid responsibility.

Their frustration feeds off itself, leads to back-stabbing and bickering.

The search for scapegoats doesn’t end at the dressing room door.

Karl Henry, last season’s captain, is openly derided. Roger Johnson, his successor, has hardly helped by branding fans “a disgrace” and “disgusting”. Johnson, prematurely hailed as a bargain, plucked from Birmingham’s fire-sale, looks lost.

His first inclination seems to be to blame those around him.

McCarthy is a strong character, a professional Yorkshireman with an accomplished line in gallows humour.

He has to impose his authority on his players, without further eroding their self-belief. It is a trick that can only be pulled so often.

McCarthy knew what was coming the moment Swansea were allowed the time and room to play like Barcelona incarnate.

Even with the game goalless, he was assailed by shouts of “Sort it out, Mick”.

Once the newcomers had seized control, the boos grew to a crescendo. The cameras intruded on the private grief of a tearful girl in the stands. The theme tunes of the damned were duly trotted out.

“You don’t know what you’re doing” was quickly followed by a vengeful chant of “You’re getting sacked in the morning”.

A pair of substitutions midway through the second half sent the faithless streaming towards the exits.

Those who remained barely stirred when Kevin Doyle scored a goal that appeared to offer no consolation whatsoever.

O’Hara’s equaliser was a grotesque distortion of reality, as Brendan Rodgers would agree.

Wolves is a progressive club, which has grown accustomed to the financial rewards of the Premier League.

They and Swansea were in the old Fourth Division 25 years ago. Neither can afford to return to such penury.

Manchester City are next.

Permission to panic?

Granted.

Wolves 2-2 Swansea: Sunday Mirror match report

McCarthy: I'm up for a scrap if anyone fancies it

The Big Issue: Do Wolves need to buy a striker in January?