..and so I face, the final curtain.
Today, after seven years, is to be my last day on the Birmingham Mail.
Time for pastures new, and a fresh role as a press officer with Wolves.
Poacher turned gamekeeper, as many have pointed out.
I've never quite cottoned onto the idea of reporters waxing lyrical about their departures.
After all, the news is always the most important thing irrespective of who it is providing it.
But bearing in mind the fact that this website carries a blog in my name - albeit for how much longer who knows - I thought I'd better at least report my 'demise' save people thinking, 'blimey, that Berry gets a bit lazy in the summer'.
In a way it will be a sad day bidding farewell to colleagues who have become friends and also the world of sports journalism in its purest form.
In another I will still get to mingle with aforementioned colleagues in the new position whilst also writing for Wolves' website and matchday programme.
Life has certainly changed in the seven years since I arrived at the Birmingham Mail as an enthusastic if naive young buck having previously spent three years on a weekly newspaper in Shropshire.
And changed not just in my ever-expanding waistline.
In those early days the internet was not yet at its most dominating influence and the Mail was still focused on a rolling news operation with plenty of opportunity to update stories throughout the day.
Now the deadlines have been brought forward, the worldwide web has expanded seemingly unstoppably and great store is now placed in the Birmingham Mail's website as well as the newspaper.
A damned good website it is too, which should almost make the geography of local papers less of an issue than before.
Nowhere during my time was the changing emphasis of newspapers and indeed changing culture of sport and in particular football more evident that in the decline of the Sports Argus.
Dramatic alterations in kick off times and the development of up-to-the-minute technology in terms of providing sporting results meant the vast majority of Saturday night 'pink' papers across the country took a massive hit.
Eventually, the Argus, like so many others, fell by the wayside in its most famous form.
A sign of the times? Indeed. But it is perhaps a shame that there seemingly was little attempt to look into whether such a once-thriving and still popular institution could not be continued in some Saturday evening form.
But who am I to say.
What is clear is that even now, two years on, the Argus is very much missed.
Even now, journalists visiting the area often enquire as to what exactly happened to it, and punters still lament their lack of the paper to peruse over a Saturday evening pint.
That aside, and even amid the long and sometimes gruelling hours which can intrude into home life, it remains of course both a privileged and challenging existence to actually be paid to cover sport.
And my five years on the Wolves 'beat' were rich in both excitement and variety.
From the sometimes eccentricities of Glenn Hoddle to the no-nonsense honesty of Mick McCarthy, the good humour of the players from the likes of the vastly experienced Paul Ince - always a top man to deal with by the way - to the refreshingly down-to-earth Michael Kightly, there has always been plenty of interest.
And from the Championship to the Premiership and then back again to the Championship, life has never been dull.
To have covered Wolves amid the fellowship and camaraderie of the Birmingham Mail sports staff has been a genuine pleasure.
Newspapers countrywide have had their problems in recent years, and the current financial climate may mean there are more to come, but the quality and devotion to duty of those writing and producing the Mail's sports pages mean I for one will continue to buy the paper and peruse its website long after I have gone.
Make no mistake these boys know their stuff, and deliver it with authority.
I think I am the first person in seven years to actually depart the sports desk for something outside the company - which in my opinion tells its own story about those who lead it and those who work for it.
But depart it I am, and after a final day covering the DFS Classic tennis at Edgbaston Priory - blooming hard job watching all those young, athletic ladies playing tennis - I'll be on my way.
It certainly felt sometimes that I'd travelled each and every highway - Southampton and Brighton on Tuesday nights were particular lowlights - and I'm sure on occasions I bit off more than I could chew.
But there have been oodles of laughter, and I'm struggling to remember any tears, and that's the sort of sports result most of us would take any Saturday afternoon.

So on the one hand the news pages of the national newspapers are today imploring everyone to 'save Gazza'.

Whilst on the other asking the paparazzi to trail him around or paying an agency for up-to-the-minute pix of his latest breakdown.

It's a strange world.

Whether people think Gazza is a deluded fool who has brought all his problems on himself, or a troubled genius unable to cope with life after football, surely every normal-thinking person will be hoping he gets the help necessary to sort himself out.

Gazza of course spent some time at Wolves during their Premier League season, desperately trying first to get himself fit and then to maybe, just maybe, win himself a contract.

It never quite happened, and perhaps even then the demons were surfacing in the most talented player of his generation.

After training, Gazza spent much of his time at Wolves' then training base at Newbridge Tennis Club either popping outside for a ciggie or ploughing cash into the fruit machine.

In one reserve match he had the mickey taken out of him by a young professional from another club showing scant respect for the former England talisman.

And yet in keeping the Wolves squad enthralled with his tales and stories, helping out the club's youngsters with tips and advice, and eventually leaving behind souvenir shirts for various members of staff, it was still clear that Gazza's heart was very much in the right place.

And when he donned a Kidderminster Harriers' steward's jacket and hot-footed it up the road to avoid the waiting reporters after a reserve game - well, that was vintage Gazza.

The problem is that he just doesn't seem to have found anything to keep him going after football.

Just over three-years ago myself and another local journalist went to see Gazza in Walsall to interview him as part of promotion for the "Promise Dreams" charity work he was doing with Wolves legend Steve Bull.

The article is reproduced below.

At that point, even though Gazza cut a pale and gaunt figure - he was seemingly winning his inner battle and the charity work, as well as being extremely genuine and well-intentioned, was keeping him busy.

Now however, he seems to be heading on a downward spiral, and for all his faults needs nursing back to following the right path.

To that end, wouldn't it be great if the next snatched picture or interview of Gazza was of him of a few months down the line, as a rejuvenated and reformed character once again having found some meaning to his life.
* * *
Published in February, 2005.

PAUL Gascoigne can seemingly smell the press at 20 paces. 'Reporters?' he enquires, across the lobby of a Walsall hotel, before lapsing into one of those trademark 'Gazza' gurns.

'You're alright lads, I don't beat them up anymore!'

Welcome to the world of Paul John Gascoigne, warts and all.

The legendary midfield is in Walsall to speak alongside another hero of these parts - Wolves' record goalscorer Steve Bull - at a dinner for children's charity Promise Dreams, of which Bull is the patron.

The two are of course former England team-mates, having burst onto the international scene at a similar time and shared a place in a World Cup squad - and one or two scrapes - for good measure.

And while Gascoigne is clearly still battling with the demons that have so afflicted his life away from football, bring back him back to that spherical object of pig's bladder and the spark is invigorating.

For half an hour he gabbles away like a steam train, rarely pausing for breath when in full flow.

There's a smattering of expletives - who will ever forget his message to the people of Norway? - and all the time puffing away on a cigar with twitching hands supping nothing stronger than Coke.

But it's all refreshingly upbeat, bearing in mind the trials and tribulations endured in recent years by not only the most gifted footballer of his generation but also a much-missed character.

Sections of the British press built him up, and sections of the British press knocked him down, albeit with plenty of aiding and abetting from the man himself.

If it was Shakespeare whose heroes always possessed a tragic flaw, Gascoigne would readily admit to having plenty.

Most, but not all, relate to alcohol.

There are of course harrowing events in Gascoigne's life over which he could exude no control. Too numerous to mention, they include as a ten-year-old, seeing his friend's younger brother knocked over and killed, the death of another lifelong pal from a building site accident at 17 and his cousin dying from asthma during a game of football. There are others - the marital problems and drug-taking - for which he is perhaps more culpable and which relate in no small part to the demon drink.

However, he is fighting to keep that particular addiction under control, and so far it's a fight he is winning.

It's nearly two years since he touched a drop, and even though he looks considerably more gaunt than in his athletic pomp, this new-found temperance can only be good news.

Of course other obstacles continue to pop up and haunt Gascoigne with alarming regularity. At Christmas he was hospitalised with pneumonia and a collapsed lung, and is currently due for surgery on a neck injury sustained while in training for the TV series 'Strictly Come Ice Dancing'.

Sometimes, you really couldn't make it up.

But Gascoigne remains, even without a drink, infectiously good company.

'Room 110,' he ventures goodnaturedly to a couple of members of the fairer sex, before delivering the latest health bulletin on his current state of mind.

'I still have good days and bad days,' he admits. 'The difference now is when I have a bad day I can't have a drink - I just have to accept it and take it as it is.

'It is tough, being an alcoholic, but I've just got to remember when my last drink was and it wasn't nice.

'Sometimes if I'm down I can come and do a charity thing, like this one with Bully, and I love the guy anyway.

'But doing these functions helps because you feel a bit of the buzz again.

'When you're not playing on a Saturday, you do miss that buzz and it hits you sometimes.

'Walking into a room with 200, 300 or 400 people, it's still nice to be recognised and be speaking in front of a crowd, even if I'm talking Geordie and they can't understand a word of what I'm saying!'

Gascoigne's former team-mate, close pal and fellow reformed alcoholic Paul Merson, once admitted it would be more pressure not being Walsall manager and having time on his hands than the stresses of the position itself.

So, with Gascoigne having recently been seen not only at several charity events but the Brit Awards and on Soccer AM, is it a case of needing to keep busy to avoid temptation?

'Not at all,' is the swift response.

'I'm just as happy sitting at home on my own, I've got a flat in the North East with big gates to keep the press from hounding me.

'If I feel I have to, I'll cancel things I've got on and just sit at home, have a cigar and watch the telly.

'Maybe Richard and Judy, or Sky Channels like Discovery and - what's her name - Judge Judy, I've got them all programmed in!'

Where Gascoigne is quite happily not completely programmed in at the moment is the precise contents of his future.

A brief spell as player coach with Boston preceded his Christmas trip to casualty, but those recent health problems, specifically the neck injury, have put things on hold.

Just whether the 37-year-old will get the chance to convert his undoubted footballing skills and knowledge onto the managerial merry-go-round currently stillremains to be seen. I've just got to take things easy for a time and will probably just wait until the summer,' he says.

'It's nice just to get out and about, and there's the chance of doing a couple of TV things which I'm thinking about at the moment.

'Boston was unfortunate but when you're coaching kids you need a good number of say 18 apprentices.

'At Boston we had seven, you couldn't even have a five-a-side! 'It's the case now, especially while I'm sober, that when I see something I'm not happy about I have to leave.

'I don't just sit there or hang around - when I did that in the past I got angry with myself, couldn't cope and that's when I drank.

'Now I can walk away and feel the better for it.

'Is coaching and management the future? I don't know - you don't know anything until you've really tried it.

'I might not like coaching, going in every day when it's belting down with rain or snowing, to be a coach you've got to be 110 per cent dedicated.

'It's 24-7, and while I've had a little taste of it it's something else to think how to keep the players interested for probably 46 weeks of the year.

'It's not much of a life and I don't know if I want that, I've had 20 years of that as a player which was tough enough.'

He's not the only one of his peer group to be contemplating such a transition.

Here in the Midlands, Albion boss Bryan Robson and Merson are flying the flag, while Wolves skipper Paul Ince has also gone on record voicing similar ambitions.

At present, however, Gascoigne believes his old pal from the England engine room still has enough desire to cut the mustard as a player.

'I'm not surprised Paul's still got the desire, at 40 grand a week,' he jokes.

It was Ince, of course, who engineered the opportunity at the tail end of 2003 for Gascoigne to train at Wolves in the vain hope of one final curtain on the Premiership stage.

Sadly it didn't materialise, and proved the catalyst to what he now terms 'the worst year of his life'.

However, Wolves itself is still an experience he recalls with much fondness.

'It probably came too early in that I'd only been out of the clinic for three months and was still coming to terms with my life,' he says.

'I just thought I could get back in but my head wasn't right.

'Dave Jones, Incey and everyone there were brilliant to me and it was great just to get back in a dressing room and be amongst footballers again.

'The skill was still there, I'll always be able to pass a ball, but age catches up with you and it was more about fitness than anything else.

'But Wolves will always stick in my mind - they are a massive club and good enough to be in the Premiership.

'When I was there in training they were unbelievable but it's always a bit different going out with about 28,000 odd watching you.

'One thing's for sure though, if they do get to the Premiership again they have to buy players - otherwise they'll be straight back down again.'

With everything else that has gone on, both on and off the field, it's sometimes easy to forget Gascoigne's footballing genius. His array of free-kicks and spectacular goals, running with the ball, barrel-chested and fearsome opponents bouncing off his frame like ninepins.

Unsurprisingly it led to many international honours, pretty much from the launchpad of that 1990 World Cup when the tears of a clown transfixed the nation.

Despite the ultimate disappointment of crashing out on penalties in the semi-finals, Gascoigne, who burst into prominence amid the glitz and glamour of one summer in Italy, has no doubt about his feelings from that time.

'They were the best six weeks of my life,' he insists, to nods of approval from Bull.

'Unbelievable, great great times.

'The team spirit out there was brilliant and we didn't feel any pressure, we really believed in ourselves. You could see that, from when Mark Wright scored his header in the qualifying game with Egypt, and every sub on the bench was off his feet celebrating.

'That's something you need as a team, and we were all in it together, and as the games kept coming we really thought we had a chance of winning it.

'We were so close - just a couple of inches from reaching the final - but ultimately we just had to accept it.

'That was probably the start of another boom spell for England, after maybe a dark spell which followed 1966.

'Maybe now it's just died again a little bit and needs another spark.

'I know Sven's taken a lot of stick recently but I certainly wouldn't want to be England manager - it's a no-win job.

'Everyone else seems to know how to pick the England team but it seems to have come to the stage where we've got to win every game at least three or four nil!' Gascoigne could probably go on talking all night but time is nearly up, the punters await just down the road for their words of wisdom from the World Cup class of 1990.

There's just one more question, in reference to another England manager, Glenn Hoddle, now installed at Wolves.

It was Hoddle who famously omitted Gascoigne from the 1998 World Cup squad, precipitating hotel room chaos, and legions more column inches.

Can he forgive and forget? 'Of course I can,' Gascoigne insists, 'you have to move on.' The answer appears genuine. 'I met him not long after in a lift,' he continues. 'We shook hands and I wished him well.'

Bull is in like a shot: 'Yeah, after you lifted him off the floor!'

Gascoigne laughs, a big bellylaugh which echoes round the lobby.

There may not have been too many of those in recent years.

But a generation of Gascoigne fans, who themselves will forgive his many indiscretions so as not to forget his unique footballing talent, will be keeping fingers crossed there are plenty more to come.

So the "silly season" as it's known - every football club in the land being linked with every single player going - is now well and truly upon us.

If Wolves were to sign all the players they have been linked with in the month since wrapping up Championship hostilities, we'd probably be looking at a squad of 50-plus already.

Still, agents, journalists, football clubs, players - they all have a job to do and they all want to improve their lot if at all possible.

Hence the raft of gossip and speculation which hits the papers in the summer and, let's face it, without which life with no football (yes thank you Steve McClaren) would be pretty boring.

For a local reporter it's a case of trying to sort the wheat from the chaff, the fact from the fiction.

Talking to all sorts of people, trying to decipher whose words are closest to the truth, and assessing all the rumours accordingly.

Well there was one this morning that was particularly interesting.

Wayne Hennessey has certainly been a hugely impressive figure in the year-and-a-bit he has manned the goalposts for Wolves.

No wonder a host of clubs have had him watched, no wonder one or two may yet take a punt, and no wonder that the Daily Mirror today reported that Arsenal were considering an £8million bid.

Potentially nothing implausible in that.

But whilst Hennessey has certainly made a big name for himself, it didn't sadly extend to this particular story's headline writer.

The story itself was fine - Wayne Hennessey etc etc - but there, in big letters, came the headline: "ARSENAL CHASING WOLVES KEEPER JAMES HENNESSEY".

Great stuff. Who is this James Hennessey that Arsenal are chasing?

Google throws up a few contenders:
James Hennessey of the 87th Infantry Div, 345th, Co E? Maybe not.
James Hennessey the author whose works include 'Nomadic Furniture' and 'the complete book of built-ins?'
James Hennessey the celebrated artist and former professor of painting at the Maryland Institute College of Art?

What was that? It was just a misprint? You're kidding. Well never mind.
Maybe Wolves could haul in a chap off the street, call him James Hennessey, and flog him to Arsenal for £8million.
Now that would be silly..............

...to May 26, 2003. For Wolves fans of the recent generation, the day of all days.
Cardiff. The Millennium Stadium. Glorious sunshine. Sheffield United. And a glorious first half performance which as good as booked Wolves' seat on the Premier League gravy train.
Five years on and the last of the play-off finals also had a Wolves involvement.
Stephen Gleeson.
And although the Irish midfielder was only representing loan club Stockport it was another slice of Molineux success all the same as he helped his team to an exciting 3-2 win.
That also meant all four clubs ascending from League Two carried some form of Wolves influence with the three already promoted - Paul Ince, Darren Ferguson and Graham Turner - all having either player for, or managed, the old gold and black.
While Wolves season has now been over for over three weeks Gleeson was the culmination of a weekend which also carried a sprinkling of Wolverhampton flavour.
First off Hull against Bristol City.
Interest not only in who would actually remain in the Championship as next season's opponents but also whether former winger Michael McIndoe - who continues to make great noises about having made the right move to leave Wolves last summer - would make it up there with City.
They didn't. And so neither did McIndoe. Back to Molineux again next season then.
And yesterday's League One showdown between Doncaster and Leeds also carried plenty of Wolves flavour in the form of Donny manager Sean O'Driscoll.
Because O'Driscoll, although born in Warrington, moved to Wolverhampton at an early age and was raised in the city as a diehard Wolves fan.
Formerly an inhabitant of the North Bank, O'Driscoll then left to forge a playing career with Fulham and Bournemouth and then managerial career also at Bournemouth.
Indeed talking of five years ago, O'Driscoll actually guided Bournemouth to League Two play-off glory on the same weekend as Wolves defeated Sheffield United.
Rumour has it that he actually stayed on in Cardiff and sidestepped Bournemouth's celebrations back home to take in Wolves' long-awaited triumph.
Top man! And one whom, perhaps unlike McIndoe, will be glad to return to bring his team to Molineux next season.
So that's it - the play-offs pretty well signify the end of the English season, not least as with 'thanks' to Steve McClaren the forthcoming Euro's have no home interest.
For Wolves however life goes on, namely the signing and selling of players ahead of the new season.
And already one is in.
The acquisition of 18-year-old Sam Vokes, probably far cheaper than perhaps it should have been bearing in mind Bournemouth's administration status, looks an astute one, particularly as Newcastle and Villa were also rumoured to be having a look.
Having interviewed Vokes on Friday when sealing the deal in front of his delighted family, he appears to possess both a level-headed and ambitious personality.
At 18 it may take a bit of time to settle at Championship level, but not too long.
One question that wasn't asked was whether he has a nickname.
Anyone reckon on...wait for it...Berti?
I'll get me coat...

So Wolves have gone back in for Kyle Lafferty then.
Not really a surprise there.
Once Mick McCarthy decides on a player, he tends to stay decided.
And having had a £1million bid rejected for the Burnley frontman last summer, McCarthy's having another pop.
Wolves are in a better position this year.
Although Steve Morgan was heavily involved in transfer discussions at the time of the first Lafferty bid, he wasn't officially at the helm.
Now he is very much in charge, has had a season to digest the thrills and spills of the Championship and is ready to splash the cash.
But what are the chances of Wolves landing the highly-rated 20-year-old?
Would he fancy a move to Molineux? Perhaps.
Although Burnley aren't far apart from Wolves in the Championship maybe Lafferty would be sold on McCarthy's vision and consider a move alongside so many of the other bright young things at Molineux at the moment.
That of course depends on whether negotiations - currently yet to kick off as Burnley digest Wolves bid of £2.25million plus Stephen Elliott - ever reach the talks stage.
It's before that where Wolves face their greatest obstacle.
Namely the big old matter of the two Kings of Scottish football who are also in the frame.
Celtic and Rangers are both understood to be keen on Lafferty and one, if not both, may yet come up with a rival offer.
And competing with the Scottish Premier big boys and the carrot of European football then becomes a massive hurdle for McCarthy and company to overcome.
Still, even if it doesn't happen, this development shows a real statement of intent.
Wolves, boosted by the nucleus of a good, young squad, have clearly already identified their targets - and are ready to go after them.
Bournemouth's Sam Vokes is another who may yet pitch up as a summer signing.
Would Lafferty be worth the £3million-plus that this Wolves deal, or indeed a straight cash offer from elsewhere, amounts to?
Time will tell, but he's certainly got the potential not least the versatility of operating either as centre forward or down the left.
The problem is not so much players' price tags, it's just getting them in.
There's not a massive pool of potential signings out there for the likes of Wolves to pursue - everyone is looking at a similar list of targets.
So if Wolves did land Lafferty, which at present must be considered against the odds, it would add some seriously hefty kudos to McCarthy's plans.

I never got to know Dave Jones all that well.
Having started covering Wolves just prior to the Premiership campaign, that season then involved the whole media circus that English football's top tier understandably involves took up plenty of Jones' time.
Infact it was only the following pre-season, and what turned into his final few months in charge, that I perhaps started to see the real Jones, the private Jones which made him such a popular figure among the vast majority of Molineux staff.
In public he was low-key and sometimes dour, phlegmatic, even though he once took issue with that particular description.
Behind the scenes he was bright, bubbly, jovial, always ready with a dry one-liner and, according to the Wolves press office, a dream to work with.
All press requests were dutifully met, even if Jones - up until the final months of his tenure - rarely rose above the monotone and a string of stock answers.
"We'll keep plugging away.....if this is pressure I'll take it any day.....we've just got to put a shift in...."
It was only when his job was on the line that Jones came out fighting at his weekly press conferences, only then that the media corps got to see the verve and passion which was transmitted to his players.
"See you then you miserable bunch of *******s," was one of his more memorable parting shots at one of his last Friday morning press conferences.
Wolves' press officer Lorraine Hennessey would often hear Jones ranting at raving at his team after a game whilst waiting to take him from the dressing rooms to his press conference.
The door would then open and he would walk out, completely cool, calm and collected, as if a mask had suddenly come down and transformed his character.
I may not have worked with Jones too closely as a journalist, but I enjoyed watching his teams play.
And for two years, the season of the Devon Loch-style collapse and the second half of the following campaign which finally brought the much-treasured promotion, it was a real pleasure.
Jones is not an archetypal tracksuit manager who studies coaching and tactics in minute detail.
Get in good players and let them play is more his approach.
When it works, as it did for the bulk of those two aforementioned years and indeed the latter stages of the Premiership season, it can work like a dream.
When it doesn't, as when Wolves struggled to cope with their relegation and Jones couldn't find an answer to their woes, it becomes more troublesome.
He is however clearly a talented manager, the only one in almost 30 years to take Wolves into the top flight and indeed now, the only one for 81 years to take Cardiff into an FA Cup final.
And the fact the fans were calling for his head earlier this season, and some were indeed sending him hate mail, is another sign of the streetfighter in him which has kept him going through troubled times on and off the pitch.
Now then for the second biggest day of his managerial career - behind May 26, 2003 of course - as he leads the Bluebirds out against Portsmouth tomorrow.
Wolves and Cardiff may have their history, but I imagine there'll be a fair few of the Molineux faithful in the Welsh corner come 3pm.

Interesting to note Harry Redknapp's comments after Portsmouth's final game of the season yesterday.

Despite finishing eighth in the Premier League - their best return for 53 years - and despite a certain FA Cup final just around the corner, it seems a run of four successive defeats had some of the Pompey faithful moaning.

And many declined to stay behind for the traditional end-of-season 'lap of honour'.

Redknapp admitted he had no truck with the jeerers, and believed they were fans who have "jumped on the bandwagon" amid Portsmouth's last few years of success.

Portsmouth, lest we forget, were promoted with Wolves back in 2003.

Having managed to survive that crucial first season, they have gone from strength to strength, and will be favourites to become the first team from outside the top four to win the FA Cup since 1995.

If their fans are moaning, then what hope for the rest?!

It's another sign of how demands from supporters are growing, restlessness and impatience, even when things are generally going well.

Obviously Wolves haven't got an FA Cup final to look forward to, indeed not even a play-off appearance, so you can understand the frustration and disappointment of the fanbase after a season which didn't meet expectations.

And yet amid that disappointment came a level of fan intensity and intolerance which really didn't help the cause.

It's a moot point as to how fans should react when their team isn't doing well.

Critics of last season will argue that they weren't given enough to cheer about, that there wasn't enough excitement or goals to get them off their seats.

But surely that is precisely the time when supporters can really show their mettle.

As Michael Kightly himself admitted last season, the time not just to follow the sheep who are having a good old moan but to get behind the team and help them through the rough spell.

Remember last season's cheers in the wake of the 6-0 defeat t Southampton? That was never going to continue, of course it wasn't, but the principle is the same.

The level of support is something that has been discussed by the Wolves players, and Andy Keogh addresses the subject in today's Birmingham Mail.

The jist of Keogh's thoughts are that the Wolves players are desperate to do well for those fans who back them through thick and then - and those that don't? Well there's nothing they can do about it.

Of course there was disappointment last season, and of course that means moans and groans.

Mick McCarthy has already said when it comes to the end of games, he doesn't mind as many boos and catcalls as fans can muster.

It's during the games - when that tension and disillusionment filters down to the pitch - that's the problem.

And could well become a continual problem if the disgruntled element continue to make their feelings known into the new season.

McCarthy is staying at Wolves. End of.

He has Steve Morgan's backing, amid a long-term plan albeit one which they hope will lead to promotion next season.

Those fans still with misgivings will perhaps be able to brush them to one side and give McCarthy and his team another go next season.

But those who are not for turning would be better advised to perhaps find alternative entertainment for a Saturday afternoon.

There it is then, the Wolves retained list. A fair few potential goings, which suggest a fair few potential comings as well.
Any surprises?
Not overly.
Wolves have got a good two years' service out of Gary Breen, albeit his last season was interrupted by injury.
Breen was an unruffled and influential leader on the pitch, and a calm and eloquent presence off it.
Didn't like giving interviews for interviews' sake, but when talking was always extremely interesting and erudite. Future manager in the making perhaps?
Also gone are Keith Lowe and Kevin O'Connor. In Lowe's case enjoyed some good times when breaking into the team but never used by Mick McCarthy. Should comfortably forge a career somewhere else, perhaps in League One.
O'Connor? Actually scored the first goal of McCarthy's reign, in a 1-1 draw at Plymouth, but has since suffered a nightmare with injuries.
It's almost cruel irony that he will have received the news while on crutches following a hamstring operation from which Wolves are to help him recuperate before moving on.
Taking up the year's option for Jody Craddock is a good move, as he still has plenty to offer amid what remains a young squad.
So too if Wolves can put a deal together to keep Michael Gray, but that one's probably 50-50 at the moment.
Perhaps the most intriguing news is the fact that no fewer than SIX under-contract senior pros have been made available for transfer.
Freddy Eastwood of course was always going to happen, but he has now been joined in the front window by Rob Edwards, Darren Ward, Darren Potter, Jay Bothroyd and Stephen Elliott.
All more than decent Championship performers who have found themselves - for one reason or another - on the fringes of McCarthy's plans.
Being shorn of such established names - for suitable offers of course - certainly adds weight to the growing understanding that McCarthy is going to be given substantial funds by Steve Morgan to strengthen this summer.
And providing he can hang onto the crown jewels such as Hennessey, Kightly and Ebanks-Blake, that is a hugely exciting prospect.

Mick McCarthy does a different sort of turn alongside Johnny Giles and Jack Charlton.....

"I've missed more than 9000 shots in my career, I've lost almost 300 games.

"26 times, I've been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed.

"I've failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed."

The words of basketball legend Michael Jordan.

And a chastening reminder to all of a gold and black persuasion this morning that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

It can only be Wolves who end up missing out on the play-offs on goal difference by just a single goal.

Only Wolves who as events transpired would have been in there with a three goal win but could only do so by one, and that in the 87th minute.

And only Wolves who now face three long months before getting the next chance to do it all again in what will be their 19th attempt at promotion from the Championship in the last 20 years.

A quick glance back over events of recent weeks would have Mick McCarthy and company tearing their hair out for that extra goal or extra point which would have seen them over the finishing line.

That nailed-on penalty not awarded at Bristol City, the injury time equalisers conceded to Ipswich and earlier Southampton, heck, go back to the first day of the season and even a point against Watford - instead of leaking two last gasp goals to lose 2-1 - would have been enough.

But football is not about ifs, buts and maybes, instead it's hard results, and perhaps given their season Wolves have ended up just about where they deserve to be, on the outside looking in.

For that there are mitigating factors, notably injuries.

Whilst all teams suffer injuries, I'm not sure many will have lost their most influential player in the way Wolves lost Michael Kightly for four months.

Not sure that many would have seen pre-season plans disrupted in the way Wolves lost Matt Jarvis when McCarthy was hoping to blaze a trail in the division with the two pacey wingers.

And not sure many would have been able to respond from the fact that having belatedly decided Gary Breen and Jody Craddock were his favoured defensive partnership, McCarthy was only able to field the two together on ten occasions.

But even this morning that's all in the past. In the words of McCarthy Wolves have to "wipe their gobs", move on and face up to another attempt to escape their Championship purgatory.

The manager will of course have numerous critics in certain quarters - he failed to reach the play-offs after all - but it appears he has the backing of chairman Steve Morgan and the board.

In my opinion rightly so.

It hasn't been a season which has met expectations but McCarthy has still developed an exciting squad of much potential.

And only against Plymouth was he finally able to field what is understood to amount to his first choice team.

And that team will now be strengthened.

There is a hugely promising nucleus now in place - if Wolves can hang onto them all - in the likes of Wayne Hennessey, Matt Murray, Kevin Foley, George Elokobi, Kightly, Jarvis, Seyi Olofinjana, Karl Henry, Sylvan Ebanks-Blake, Andy Keogh.

What is going to happen to the three out-of-contract experienced personnel in Breen, Craddock and Michael Gray remains to be seen.

But - and it's easier said than done - just say McCarthy is able to bring in a few hard-nosed 27, 28, 29-year-olds this summer to add to that excellent young base then the future may indeed yet be old gold.

Those developing players will also come back bigger, better, stronger in August after the experiences of this long, hard season.

"I've failed over and over and over again in my life," said Jordan. "And that is why I succeed."