Mike Gaynes, who I generally agree with, absolved Sean Dyche of any responsibility for yesterday’s loss to Brighton. In fairness, our geriatric right-back and defensive midfielder could have been expected to do better. Then we had our wantaway striker doing an embarrassing dive that technically should have stood for a penalty due to VAR rules but, being honest, it was never a penalty.
Despite the dour performance, I feel confident we will survive because Dyche and his industrious approach to football has proven effective at just that: surviving. But as someone who made the point he’d never have good players, I’ll admit I’m disappointed.
We cleverly manoeuvred in the transfer market to replace an energetic ego-maniac with two skilful Number 10s and then benched both in favour of a Carlton Palmer-style try-hard. Having gone down 2-0, we tried to close up shop; instead of bringing on a rough diamond from Lyon, we brought on a perennial failure to play alongside the equally inept Burnley old boy, Michael Keane, and unsurprisingly we conceded twice more though one was struck off.
But this is where we are. We have a fireman Sam wannabe manager who can hide behind the obvious financial issues. Stubborn, non-reactive, and devoid of imagination – he is the poor man’s David Moyes. He will do just enough to keep us afloat and, when terrible results transform into a half-decent run, fans will hail him as a saviour.
But he’s not the guy for the long term. He’s not the guy to sneak a cup win, unearth youngsters, or develop tactical master plans. He’s dull, boring and unimaginative. He’s like the council health and safety officer. He will avoid catastrophe but ensure we have nothing to smile about. That’s the deal we’ve made with the devil, thanks to the missteps of Bill Kenwright, Farhad Moshiri, Marcel Brands etc.