Weekend Fall Out

Whoever got re-incarnated as Glenn Hoddle must be turning in his grave.

A simple glance at the stats from Wolves 1-1 draw at Plymouth says it all.

22 shots yielded a single goal.

And that's with a second half that's with a second half that was evenly contested.

Unsurprisingly, most of todays headlines with the word Wolves in, also contained the word wasteful.

Eight games into the season, Mick McCarthy faces a problem his predecessor's may have sympathy with.

And on the face of it, is following an eeriely close path trying to solve it.

What do you do with a team that creates a multitude of chances, but has a conversion ratio of just 4 percent?

Glenn Hoddles steadfast refusal to even contemplate his selection, formation and tactics might be wrong led to his downfall.

Or spineless exit, depending on your opinion of his departure.

And by today once more pledging his support for the strikers providing that meagre return, some are beginning to question whether McCarthy is losing sight of the Eastwood for the trees.

Which he could be accused of doing, but for two things.

Despite the clubs stance that the matter is closed, young Freddy's exploits last weekend would have done nothing to help his claim for any place at all let alone one in the starting line up.

If Eastwood was out of consideration from the bench, the only attacking option left to McCarthy was Jay Bothroyd, introduced as a replacement for Stephen Ward, carrying a knock.

The obvious choice would have been to move Andy Keogh out to the wing to utilise his speed and tireless running, and play Bothroyd up front with Elliott but big Mick did something he once swore never to do again.

He switched to 4-3-3.

Whilst it may not have provided that elusive second goal, it did demonstrate that McCarthy is prepared to do the one thing Glenn Hoddle never could.

Change.

Wolves travel to The Walkers Stadium tomorrow night needing a win to calm the jittery nerves of those concerned by the less than explosive start to the season.

And McCarthy in need of his strikers repaying the faith he is publicly placing in them.

There's a sense that everything is a gnats breadth from clicking, and that the goals are just around the corner.

The only question remaining is who is going to score them.

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