Rob Edwards stood on the touchline long after the final whistle, long after the stadium had emptied, long after the noise had faded into a hollow silence. The floodlights still beamed down, but the spark in his eyes was gone. This wasn’t just another defeat. This felt like something breaking.
Survival battles are supposed to bring unity, a siege mentality, a refusal to go down without a fight. Instead, Wolves look like a squad already packing their bags. Whispers of players angling for moves have grown louder with every loss, and the body language on the pitch tells the same story. Shoulders slump. Heads drop. Effort fades too quickly.
Strand Larsen’s situation sums it up. A striker brought in to lead the line in tough moments now appears more focused on an exit than a turnaround. Interest from elsewhere has turned into distraction, and distraction into detachment. For a manager scrapping for Premier League survival, that cuts deep.
Edwards is an emotional coach, invested, passionate, all-in. Seeing his players mentally check out hurts more than any scoreline. Relegation is a football risk. Losing belief is a collapse.
If Wolves are to survive, they need fighters, not flight risks. Right now, their manager looks heartbreakingly alone in that fight.
