By Dave Bowler

Mark the 15h December 2009, and mark it well. History might just go on to show that that was the day when the shaky coalition between the haves and the wannabes, known other wise as the Premier League, finally shattered into irreparable pieces.

Having just enjoyed the best result in their short Premiership history by defeating Tottenham at White Hart Lane, Wolves went to Old Trafford to take on Manchester United. Or, more accurately, they didn’t. At no stage were they ever attempting to take on Manchester United, something made crystal clear by Mick McCarthy’s decision to change every single one of his outfield players, looking to protect his first team for the more winnable game at home to Burnley on the following Sunday.

A lot of utter drivel has been spouted about Wolves having 20 plus players in their first team squad and there being no such thing as a first XI these days.

The truth of the matter is that McCarthy calculated that the gulf between Manchester United and Wolves in any game played at Old Trafford is so enormous that his team has no chance of wining. So, why take the risk of injuring key men? Much as what he did was utterly repugnant to those who still believe in the ideal of two teams slugging it out for the spoils, in a purely pragmatic sense, McCarthy’s behaviour was utterly logical, targeting games he believes he can take points from. After all, it’s precisely what Manchester United, Arsenal, Liverpool and Chelsea have been doing in the League Cup in recent years, all but throwing games so that Rio, Frank, Stevie and Cesc can have an evening at home with their feet up.

Which is where the problems began. Once upon a time, it was required that teams always fielded their strongest side in every game and that failure to do so would lead to sanctions of various kinds. Cheating the paying public is, after all, the most serious way in which you can bring the game into disrepute isn’t it? But once Manchester United et al began to treat the League Cup and the FA Cup, and even some league games, with open contempt, the craven authorities simply backed down and allowed them to get away with it.

So if it’s good enough for the megabucks men, who genuinely do have squads that are rather more than skin deep, why shouldn’t it be ok for those clubs that can only afford three or four Premiership players? And when Chelsea mount a legal challenge next May when United have won the league by a single goal on goal difference, maybe they should remember al the times they’ve done pretty much what Wolves did.

The answer is that it isn’t good enough of any of them, not by a long way. What it is is the chickens coming home to roost, a disgrace, a total abandonment of every principle and every responsibility that football clubs have to the game, to the competitions in which they play and, above all, to the supporters.

Yes, supporters. Remember them? The ones the game exists for? Football does not live in a theoretical vacuum, where managers dabble with scientific formulae in isolation from everything else. It exists for the fans. And without them, it would soon cease to exist.

So, why treat 70,000 United supporters with such contempt? Why treat 3,000 of your own travelling fans, looking forward to one of the big nights out in the Premiership as if they didn’t matter? After all, when you ask Championship fans why they want to be in the top flight, many answer “So we can see United and Chelsea”. So, on the night they were all looking forward to, Wolves decided to play their reserves.

That will be McCarthy’s problem, making peace with 3,000 fans who travelled to watch their club humiliate them. Chants of “We want our money back”, “Where’s the first team” and “£40 to watch the reserves” suggest they were less than enamoured with his Yorkshire pragmatism. Football fans aren’t in it for the logic. They’re in it for fun, glory. Daft as we may be, we all believe our team, however ordinary, can go to Old Trafford and win. And, once in a while, you know what? We’re right. But if you don’t try, why should we care? And if we don’t care, there’s no football club left.

Just a few weeks ago, Wigan’s players refunded their travelling fans after they were hammered 9-1 at Spurs, a reflection that they understood the misery they’d put them through. But at least they turned up, physically anyway. Wolves didn’t. And remember when Middlesbrough failed to fulfil a fixture against Blackburn due to the squad being ravaged by flu?

They were docked points, points which relegated them. So why not dock Wolves points? And why not do likewise to United every time they decide not to play Wayne Rooney when they visit the “smaller” clubs, simply because they think they can beat Portsmouth without him, caring nothing for the kids in the Fratton Park crowd who want to see their idol.

And don’t trot out the line that players are overworked these days because it isn’t true. Let’s compare two United icons shall we? In 1969/70, Bobby Charlton started 57 games for them (one of seven seasons where he stated more than 50 games for them) and 11 more for England. In those days, United could use one sub and Charlton was not a man you took off. He was 32 at the time.

Last season, Wayne Rooney started 39 games – in which he was regularly substituted, much to his displeasure – and came on as a sub 10 times, and played 9 England games. Rooney is 24. He also has the advantage of better pitches, better diet, better training, better boots. I think if you suggested to Rooney that he couldn’t keep up with Charlton, he’d be a little miffed, which makes it pretty obvious that vast squads are simply not necessary, but a way of keeping other teams from having good players.

Premier League rules state that clubs should field a full strength team in all games, but immediately after the Wolves game said it was unlikely they would launch any investigation into McCarthy’s actions. It was only after the public outcry that they wrote to Wolves asking for their “observations”. Inevitably, they will do nothing about it simply because to take Wolves to task would mean them having to do likewise with the big boys, and that would never do would it?

The simple truth is that this ludicrous construction can no longer hold. The needs, the motivations, the finances, the squads of the top five and the bottom ten in the Premier league are so far apart, so utterly different, that pushing them into the same competition makes as much sense as putting cats in birdcages. With the birds still in them.

Perhaps McCarthy has inadvertently done the game a favour. Perhaps this game will finally bring football to its senses, force a more equitable split of the revenues and create a more level playing field. Or perhaps it will finally fracture the Premier League for good, creating a more sensible competition in its aftermath, jettisoning Chelsea and the rest into Europe, and good riddance to them. Either way, it’s got to be better than the farce we’re currently living with.