Where Has it all Gone Wrong for Gary O’Neil and Wolves?

Gary O’Neil and Michael Beale seem cut from the same cloth – obviously, there’s something about these types of guys that appeases Mr Hobbs.

Both are new young hot things.

Self-branded as tacticians, thinkers of the game, focused on details and talking the talk.

Both are full of confidence that borders on arrogance, and perhaps both are guilty of thinking they are better than they actually are.

Beale has been the first of the two to be thoroughly found out.

Gary doesn’t look to be too far behind him.

Like Beale, Gary will probably get his chance at redemption in the Championship, but it will be a critical juncture – if that fails, where next? After all, Beale is still without a job after being relieved of his duties at Sunderland (who are now sitting pretty at the top of the Championship under Regis Le Bris – Beale had them looking like relegation fodder).

Most Wolves fans celebrated dodging a deadly bullet when Beale rejected us and pledged his allegiance to then top-of-the-table QPR. A pledge he failed to keep when Rangers came sniffing around a few months later and his QPR team had been thoroughly found out. However, the reality is the bullet wasn’t dodged, merely delayed, and sunk into our skin the second O’Neil walked through the doors, beaming in astonishment at the opportunity Matt Hobbs had presented him with. 

Make no mistake: he is Matt Hobbs’ man. Hobbs believes in him, possibly more than O’Neil believes in himself at this stage. Hobbs brought O’Neil in under his wing, taking a punt on a Bournemouth reject whom their fans were delighted to see the back of. That’s a risk – in all aspects except immediate finances – at a club the size of Wolves, and last season’s mediocrity was misconstrued as success in the summer. The award of a new contract was premature; make no mistake. Prior to the new contract, it was widely reported that O’Neil was, by some distance, the lowest-paid manager in the Premier League. He’s likely not anymore. Where he was once easily dispensable, a cheap option, essentially on trial, the new contract meant from the get-go this season, he wasn’t anymore.

Hobbs jumped to bump Gary and his staff, to hammer home just how right he was about O’Neil, to rub it in the faces of the doubters. ‘He’s my mate and I told you all he was a genius’ is all I can hear emanating from Hobbs when I look back at the photo of the pair, beaming post-announcement.

Furthermore, the timing was designed to placate the fans, giving the illusion of certainty and direction at a time when it would’ve been easy to panic. Pedro Neto had just been sold. Questioning the direction Wolves were heading would have been a very natural thing to do after selling another of our best players.

It was done for the wrong reasons. There was still some reasonable doubt surrounding O’Neil’s ability as a coach, more so regarding his coaching team, which feels somewhat thrown together.

Last season was undeniably better than most had expected it to be under O’Neil, prior to injuries that admittedly derailed our season.

But a 14th place finish was the lowest in our current Premier League era. Furthermore, only four teams scored less than Wolves; even relegated Luton scored more. The narrative that O’Neil fixed Wolves from an offensive point of view was, statistically speaking, misplaced; we were merely slightly improved compared to the absolute goalscoring attrition we had seen in the past. This slight uptick, however, came at a cost. Overall goals conceded were not alarming last season (65) and only seven more than the season prior (58), but what did quickly dissipate was our ability to keep clean sheets – just five all season (Everton x 2, Brighton, Burnley, Sheffield United) and now 5/48 Premier League games overall under O’Neil. For reference: we kept seven clean sheets in 23 games under Lopetegui. All victories. In fact, they constituted seven of our total nine victories under Julen. Obviously, it’s easiest to win games when you keep a clean sheet – just the one required, after all. Nowadays, we’ve lost that knack, and it is frankly crucial, because now Wolves need at least three goals to win any game. That is totally unsustainable. All good teams are built from the back and defend as a unit. Our set-piece problems point to the obvious: we don’t. 

Three set-piece goals conceded in three games post-Jack Wilson can barely be deemed a success. Clearly, this was not the fault exclusively of our shiny new set-piece coach, he was simply made a scapegoat for our defensive woes. This is a fundamental flaw that has been present from the get-go under Gary. He has failed to rectify it and now looks at a loss. All the brutal and callous sacking of Wilson did was cast suspicions that new faces, both players and staff, are struggling to integrate under his regime. Saturday’s starting line-up featured just one new summer signing (not including Doyle, who was here on loan, of course).

His overconfidence has disintegrated, and the tactical genius he has painted himself as is now weighing incredibly heavy. In many ways, he has created a rod for his own back by being all too happy to share how detailed and assiduous he is tactically, and publicly break down how he has outwitted some of the best minds currently in the game. That’s some pedestal to put yourself on, and you can be sure it will be held against you when the chips are down.

More important than tactical nous and intense study of the game for a leader is surely his ability to inspire others to be the best they can be. Instead, doubt and mistrust feel like the stench coming from the dugout most weeks of late. Blame. ‘Cliqueness’ over camaraderie. A shirking of responsibility time and time again.

His tactical overthinking has turned to confusion and contradictions. It isn’t the lack of new signings; it is the lack of new signings. The new signings have settled well; the new signings aren’t Premier League ready. There’s a balance of experience in the camp; there’s not enough experience in the camp. We need a centre-back with Premier League experience; we are happy with the centre-backs we have. The list goes on. When all is said and done, though, O’Neil has to make do with what he has right now, until January at the least. And frankly, this squad is capable of far more. 

His tinkering and apparent frequent fall-outs with players have led to a disorganised and disjointed feel to this team, and his incessant tinkering in a desperate search for a solution (like throwing a handful of darts at a dartboard to see what lands) comes at the cost of any actual genuine footballing philosophy, identity, or game plan that he claims to pride himself on. Back four vs five is no longer a genuine debate. O’Neil has played that card now and proven he can execute neither. Time is up, and whether we beat Southampton or not, Wolves are going nowhere positive under Gary O’Neil.

How can I say so with such certainty? He doesn’t know his best eleven and relies on individual moments of magic as opposed to any systematic and well-coached style of play. We are used to so much more at Wolves, especially under Nuno, who could never be accused of either of these things.

We deserve better, and our club deserves to be put first because, at the moment, every press conference seems to be the Gary O’Neil show. His demise is smothering us, as he scratches around time after time for excuses designed to protect his own legacy, we suffer. Another game week gone, another week closer to oblivion. I hope for O’Neil’s sake he can -unlike Beale- rebuild his reputation in the Championship (I don’t see him anywhere near any other Premier League job – and people can say what they like about Nuno, Lopetegui, and Bruno Lage, but all find themselves in massive jobs post-Wolves), but his time at Wolves is up, for all of our sakes. 

I don’t want to see this get any more toxic than it already is. After all, he’s at odds with the fans, so it cannot be that much of a stretch to assume the same applies to the dressing room. The players are clearly still fighting, but it is beginning to look like they are fighting for themselves, in spite of, rather than for, their manager. This is promising, and a sign that not all is broken at this club – potentially just a few vital cogs. 

Sometimes, when the dressing room is gone, a new manager makes little difference (as we’ve seen in the past at Wolves) – I don’t think that’s the case in the here and now, so a new manager who can galvanise this squad and offer them clear and direct guidance could make an absolute world of difference. I genuinely think we’d soon be absolutely unrecognisable- such is the abundance of quality in this squad. But ultimately, that depends on the board acting, and fast. Whether they will or not is another question entirely. After all, as I said at the start, Gary O’Neil is Matt Hobbs’ man so will he be prepared to fall on his sword, to swallow his pride, to hold his hands up and admit he was sold up the O’Neilian river. Enraptured and fooled by his eloquence. His empty eloquence. Perhaps Hobbs’ misjudgment means he is doomed to the same fate as O’Neil should the latter get the bullet. So he defends his man unwaveringly until Jeff Shi decides enough is enough from the pair of them. But Shi is not a football man, if he was, he’d have seen enough weeks ago. So, we sit, as fans, as a club, in a death spiral awaiting the realisation of our chairman; we hope, before it is too late. So I urge you, Jeff, wake up now, wake up at the mere threat of relegation, because each passing day edges us closer to the reality of relegation- which will be the rudest awakening known to man.