Blog: A Wolf in Sheeps clothing

Welcome to the incessant ranting of a mad woman.  At least that’s how it feels.  Regulars on this website will know two things for certain about me.  1: I make it my business as editor of this site to live, breathe and know all things West Bromwich Albion – it’s my job right?  And 2: Despite appearances I have the extreme misfortune of actually being a Wolves fan.  Yep – that’s right.  I support Wolves, and not only have to know all things West Brom, but also have an ardent West Brom supporter as a partner.  Glutton for punishment or what?

Nonetheless, this should make what I’m about to say all that bit sweeter for you genuine Baggies out there.  Because despite my loyalty to all things gold, I can’t help but admire the present fortunes of ‘them lot down the road’.

I’ve been a Wolves fan for as long as I can remember.  Actually that’s a lie.  When I was 12 I was a girly girl and professed to support Manchester United because Ryan Giggs was young and ‘fit’.  At 13 I bravely stepped into the shoes of my brother, who was too ill to go the Saturday 3pm ko First Division game at Molineux against Millwall.  So like a hero I joined my dad at the game, not really knowing anything about Wolves or football.  I won’t bore you with what happened next (we won though), but let’s just say the rest is history and I’ve been hooked ever since.

I met my partner 5 years ago.  It was odd at first I have to admit, and it wasn’t exactly an easy ride for me the Wolves fan.  In fact, come to think of it, it hasn’t been for the last five years!  I smuggled him into the Wolves end for the play off leg at Molineux, and he returned the favour for the Hawthorns fixture.  Mores the pity.  We’ve been on holiday’s abroad, and I have to admit the double take we get from people as they spot our respective shirts together is quite amusing.

But for the first time in those five years together I am now truly miserable to be the Wolves fan, and this is a new all time low I can tell you.  I could handle the play off defeat – which was softened somewhat by the eventual demise to Derby.  I could even handle the pie and pint incident, even managing a wry smile at the Tesco carrier bags left on the Southbank seats.  But that 5-1 thumping a few weeks ago hurt.  It hurt big.  And not because it was yet another defeat, but because it was so symbolic of the shambles of a season we’ve been having.

I have to be honest, I was fairly pleased with the sacking of Mick McCarthy the following day.  Had it been down to me I’d have probably sacked him after the embarrassing home defeat to Blackburn on the last day of the previous season – despite the last minute survival granted to us by neighbours Birmingham City.  But hindsight is a wonderful thing is it not?  Had I predicted the farcical and humiliating events that would then unfold, eventually unfolding with the appointment of Terry Connor two weeks later, I might not have been so keen to see the back of Mick.  Furthermore, whilst we were getting thumped by Fulham, I had to listen to a jubilant other half celebrating a fantastic 1-0 victory over Chelsea.

How had the fortunes of our two clubs taken two such drastic turns?  And was I ever going to have the upper hand? Or at least an even playing field with the other half?  Don’t get me wrong, I’m pleased for him.  I’m pleased for West Brom – who perhaps wrongly have a larger part of my attention and admiration than they should have.  I wish them success with every inch of my being.  But I’d swap places with them tomorrow, without even the slightest pang of guilt.  This morning I wrote a front page article about Roy Hodgson and his links to the England job.  In stark comparison, I wonder whether our manager would be favourite for even the local school football team.  I sincerely doubt it.

Added to the misery surely has to be yesterday’s debacle outside Molineux.  How anyone could even contemplate attacking a player outside a ground when he had his young son in his arms completely eludes me.  I can only hope that Jamie O’Hara understands that the majority of us are nothing like that at all. 

If you’ve stuck with this article and got this far then congratulations.  Please enjoy your success and live every second of this fantastic season.  As for me, I’ll see you all at the Newcastle game, where I’ll be watching from the stands, and the accent will help me blend in nicely!