FA Cup reaction - A Wolves perspective.

By Jemma Tappenden
January 31 2007

After an insight to the Baggie experience and reaction to Sunday's FA cup game, the pain has finally cleared enough for me to talk about it from a Wolves perspective.

Never has the phrase “oh how the other half live” been more poignant than over the last few days. The mood over parts of the Midlands is certainly split, with West Brom fans everywhere elated, and Wolves fans understandably mortified.

I, like many other Wolves fans this week, awoke Monday morning to the full horror that the last 24 hours had not been a dream. We had lost to our local rivals (again) by 3 goals to nil (again). It was with a bowed head I arrived at work that day, waiting for the onslaught from the “other half”.

It was an onslaught that never really arrived. But then like a good friend and colleague of mine explained, he felt a little embarrassed to be extracting the Michael from Wolves, it was after all as he said “so easy”. Great I thought, it was so easy for them that they can’t even be bothered taking the mick any more.

Sunday itself was a strange experience. Having awoke with that feeling of impending doom in many ways it didn’t really come as much surprise. But the feeling was still a surprise. I have always carried the Old Gold and Black arrogance, I have in the past simply expected us to beat our nearest and dearest…I don’t really know why either really, as this has so often not been the case. But it was in fact a sign of the times that this expectation had left me. I simply do not know what to expect any more. Having said that I certainly did not expect to be pasted 3-0 for the second time this season, especially as we had home advantage this time.

I avoided eye contact with the Southbank, partly because it was too painful to see a lack of Wolves faithful, having been replaced by Boing Boingers and Tesco bags. And partly because I was mesmerised by the lunatic in front of me who was cajoling the Southbank in a most undignified fashion.

The final whistle was a mix of relief and pain – pain obviously for the result, and relief that at last the humiliation was over…and they couldn’t score any more than three (which lets face it – it could have been more). At least the journey home wasn’t as painful as it could have been, with two Baggies in the car I expected to be mauled – but obviously the pain on my face was sign enough that at this moment in time, I at least, deserved some release from the agony.

So, “At least we can concentrate on the league”. I lost count at how many times I had to raise an eyebrow to that one on Monday. The only consolation we had left. Being a football fan is hard sometimes – you can be high in the sky one day, and being scrapped off the floor the next. But the feeling subsided some what this morning, as that same colleague commented to me “1-0 away from home with 9 men, now that takes strength and character”. And bravo to that Baggie, because indeed it does.