Ten games in. Three wins. Three defeats. Four draws. A goal difference of zero. It’s a record that doesn’t scream crisis, but it certainly doesn’t whisper progress either. And when you zoom in on the details, the picture gets even murkier. The three victories? All against sides currently marooned in the relegation zone. That’s not a foundation. That’s a warning.
This was supposed to be different. The summer window was, by almost universal consensus, the best we’ve had in years. Smart acquisitions, depth in key areas, and a sense that the club was finally building something with intent. There was buzz. There was belief. But ten games later, the table tells a story of stasis. Mid table. No momentum. No spark.
It’s not just the results. It’s the tone of the performances. A side that looks cautious when it should be confident. Passive when it should be proactive. There’s a flatness to the football that feels at odds with the ambition that defined the off-season. And while it’s true that the Championship is a brutal, unpredictable league, it’s also true that clubs with serious aspirations don’t settle for beating only the bottom three.
Supporters aren’t asking for miracles. They’re asking for signs. Signs that this team is capable of more than just surviving. Signs that the manager has a plan that goes beyond containment and damage limitation. Right now, those signs are hard to find.
The mood is shifting. Quietly, but unmistakably. What started as cautious optimism is curdling into concern. Not panic. Not fury. Just that creeping sense that something isn’t quite right. That the pieces are there, but the picture isn’t forming. And at the centre of it all is Alan Sheehan — a manager who was handed the keys after a promising interim spell, but who now finds himself under the microscope.
This isn’t a crisis. But it’s not far off becoming one. And if the next few weeks don’t bring clarity, conviction, and points, then the questions will only get louder. Starting with the most uncomfortable one of all: is this really working?
💼 Not What the Owners Ordered
This summer wasn’t just about squad building. It was about brand building. The owners didn’t invest in players to finish 13th after ten games. They didn’t bring Luka Modric to the training ground, or invite Snoop Dogg and Martha Stewart into the fold, to watch the team drift through the early part of the season. These were calculated moves designed to elevate the club’s visibility and position it as something more than just another Championship outfit. The message was clear. This was supposed to be different.
But different is not what we’ve seen. The team has beaten only the bottom three. The football has been flat. The goal difference is neutral. And the mood, both in the stands and behind the scenes, is starting to shift. The owners didn’t greenlight a strong transfer window to watch the club tread water. They didn’t appoint Alan Sheehan on a permanent basis to see the same patterns repeat.
Right now, Sheehan looks like a continuation of the last three managers. Cautious. Reactive. Uninspired. The football lacks identity. The performances lack conviction. And the ambition, at least on the pitch, feels muted. There’s a growing sense that Sheehan fits the mould too well. That he’s another safe pair of hands who won’t rock the boat but also won’t steer it anywhere new.
That might have been acceptable in years gone by. It’s not acceptable now. Not with the investment. Not with the exposure. Not with the expectations. This isn’t about demanding promotion in October. It’s about demanding progress. Demanding identity. Demanding performances that reflect the ambition shown off the pitch.
Because right now, there’s a disconnect. The club is talking like a top-six contender but playing like a mid-table placeholder. And that’s not what the owners ordered. If the football doesn’t start matching the ambition, the manager might find himself the next thing they decide to change.
📆 A Huge Week for Sheehan
Seven games to define a future. That was the line yesterday. But after Saturday’s draw, the focus narrows. Two home games in seven days. Norwich and QPR. Both winnable. Both vital. And suddenly, it feels like the next chapter in Alan Sheehan’s story might be written before the month is out.
This isn’t just about climbing the table. It’s about survival, not in the league, but in the job. Because with just one win in the last five league games, the pressure is mounting. Slowly, steadily, and now visibly. The owners may have circled seven fixtures, but if the next two go badly, they may not wait for the other five.
Norwich are struggling. QPR are inconsistent. These are not fixtures to fear. They are fixtures to target. Fixtures that should yield points. And yet, based on recent form, there’s no guarantee of a return. The team looks tentative. The football lacks conviction. The manager, once hailed for his clarity and calm, now looks caught in the fog.
Four points from these two games might buy Sheehan time. Anything less could trigger conversations behind closed doors. The club didn’t hand him the reins to settle for mediocrity. They saw something in his interim spell — a spark, a connection, a sense of direction. But that version of Sheehan feels distant now. Replaced by a manager who seems more concerned with containment than ambition.
The timing matters too. Two home games. Two chances to show the fans something. To show the owners something. To show himself something. If the team fails to deliver, the questions won’t just be about tactics. They’ll be about suitability. About whether Sheehan is the right man for this moment, this squad, this project.
It’s not yet a crisis. But it’s close. And in football, proximity is often enough. The next seven days could shape the season. They could also end a tenure. In a league where momentum is everything, standing still is the fastest way to fall behind.
Sheehan needs results. He needs performances. He needs belief. And he needs them now.
❓ Is He the Right Man for the Job?
The Alan Sheehan who earned the permanent job isn’t the Alan Sheehan we’re watching now. Last season’s interim spell had clarity. It had energy. It had a sense of purpose. This season’s version feels muted. The football is cautious. The intent is unclear. The identity, if there is one, seems rooted in risk avoidance.
It’s a familiar pattern. Russell Martin. Luke Williams. Now Sheehan. Three managers, three iterations of the same problem. Possession without penetration. Structure without spark. A tactical approach that prioritises control but forgets ambition. While Sheehan was supposed to be different, he’s starting to look like a continuation.
The squad isn’t built for containment. It’s built for expression. There are players who can hurt teams, who can dictate tempo, who can take games away from opponents. But they’re not being used that way. The system feels rigid. The substitutions feel reactive. The overall tone is one of caution, not conviction.
The away draw at Southampton was a perfect example. A point on paper, but a performance that felt like surrender. This wasn’t Anfield. It wasn’t the Etihad. It was a mid-table Championship side with vulnerabilities. Yet we sat back. We played for the point. We looked content to avoid defeat rather than chase victory.
That’s not what this squad was built for. It’s not what Sheehan was hired to deliver. If he wants to keep his job, he needs to change. Not just the results, but the style. The intent. The way this team approaches games. Right now, it’s hard to shake the feeling that the manager is holding the players back. And the players know it.
🧮 A Short Stay of Execution?
There’s no fury in the stands. No banners. No chants. Just a quiet, growing sense that this isn’t going anywhere fast. The promise of the summer is being squandered. The manager, for all his early promise, might not be the right fit after all.
Even if Sheehan picks up results this week, it may only delay the inevitable. The issues run deeper than points. They are about style, identity, and belief. Right now, the team looks like it’s playing with the handbrake on. That’s not sustainable. Not in this league. Not with this squad. Not under this ownership.
There is still time to turn it around, but it is running out. The next two games could be a lifeline or they could be the final straw. When ambition meets inertia, something has to give.
Unless Sheehan finds a way to change the narrative quickly, decisively, and convincingly, even a win or two might just be a short stay of execution.
2 replies
Loading new replies...
Mel Nurse
Lee Trundle
Join the full discussion at the Welcome to the Lord Bony Stand →