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Krishna gets in touch: “Isn’t the match involving Manchester United no longer about the result but how many minutes before the first misplaced pass, when will Ruben disintegrate looking like a cook who forgot his recipe AND missing a key ingredient and which comic event will lead to the first red card?”

Ruben Amorim has been doing his usual Mr Motivator act.

Things do not get any easier for Wolves and Rob Edwards. After being outclassed by Crystal Palace last weekend, on Sunday they face a trip to their in-form Midlands rivals Aston Villa. Then it is Nottingham Forest, Manchester United, Arsenal and Brentford before Christmas. Wolves lost to each of the promoted clubs this season and surely even the most optimistic Wolves supporter can be forgiven for wondering: where are the points coming from? A section of Wolves supporters tempered their anger at Molineux last time out but any grace period afforded to Edwards, a personable former player and coach, will soon fade. Even so he has to maintain belief. “When we take these jobs we all back ourselves – there’s a belief and ego we all have: ‘I can be the one who can stick around for a while,’” he said. “I haven’t joined this club to be gone within a few months.”

A Tottenham Hotspur manager’s lot is so rarely a happy one. In short order, Thomas Frank is running through the gamut of his predecessors, from hope to disappointment to what now resembles hopelessness. Demolition by Arsenal had already created a sticky wicket. A decent midweek showing in Paris, though another defeat, had barely increased the credit rating. Losing to Fulham, a team with a previous away record as miserable as Spurs’ home form, intensified the pressure. That Frank was appointed by the departed stewardship of Daniel Levy is to be noted; fresh ownership regimes tend to be trigger-happy with inherited managers.

Should such a decision be made, and it still seems a premature outcome considering Frank made slow starts at his previous clubs, Marco Silva, linked previously on a couple of occasions, would be a live contender. By six minutes in, Silva was cavorting on the sidelines with his Fulham staff. His team were 2-0 up and the home fans were baying for blood. By the final whistle, the Tottenham Hotspur Stadium emptied, the mood was even lower, Frank’s outlook even bleaker.