The passing of Bobby Charlton on Saturday brought an understandable wave of emotional tributes. Even when I was young, although he’d been retired for quite a few years, he was the benchmark against which all footballers were judged. Eventually he became the archetype of a long-lost virtuous golden age.

So, I suppose it was inevitable that some Boomers took to Facebook to pay tribute the only way they know how, by using Charlton’s sad passing to criticise the greed, spinelessness, and general fecklessness of today’s generation of footballers. Today’s stars are ‘money obsessed’, ‘preening’ and ‘pampered’ who just roll around on the floor like they’ve been shot.

Like many of these perceptions, the reality is more complex. Footballers are well remunerated nowadays, but it reflects the commitment and sacrifice required to reach even a relatively low level in the professional game. To get to the top requires almost complete and total dedication. Charlton wasn’t better than modern footballers, he was just different to them.

Back then, being different was a virtue, The Science of the game was under-developed, if you had particular physical attributes then you had an immediate advantage, if you also happened to grow up in an environment where a lot of football was played, the chances were you’d develop your technique. This was a by-product of the environment you grew up in and in less enlightened times – because people couldn’t explain where it had come from – it was assumed to be a God-given talent.

Now, modern footballers tend to have technique trained into them systematically and methodologically through structured academies from an early age. They’re also taught about handling fame, the media, diet and all the other attributes that makes for a sustainable footballing asset. Applying this rigorously every single day, sacrificing everything from family to education, is now called professionalism.

Family democracy dictates that Bake-Off takes precedence and therefore much of Tuesday’s game was watched via iFollow on a muted laptop. This week was toast week (I think) in which some of Britain’s best amateur bakers follow their grandma’s toast recipe – Kingsmill, in the toaster, add butter, maybe jam – and then accidentally drop it on the floor ninety seconds before its due to be judged. Why do Britain’s ‘best’ amateur bakers all seem to suffer from dyspraxia?

I digress, wildly and often. Without the influence of commentary or those around me, I watched the first half of last night’s game dutifully, but less emersed. Without the benefit of a narrative, or the influence of others’ opinions and with the ball occasionally not even visible to the naked eye, the game took on a different aesthetic. 

What was clear from the opening was our dedication to The Science; we maintained a certain shape and were eager to keep the ball moving and ensure there were options for every pass. Possession and patience were the sacred cows to be protected at all cost. The theory is that eventually someone lose concentration or find themselves out of position and that would present a scoring opportunity. 

It doesn’t always come off and so when those passages break down, everyone re-assumes their positions and start the process again. The idea is that you keep applying The Science until it works.

Except, when it broke down last night, Wigan would counter-attack, typically down the left, putting pressure on Sam Long. This was also very formulaic, the difference was, it was stingingly effective.

It’s hard to know what Wigan are nowadays – a few years ago they were a big deal in League One, theirs was a brief stopping point before a return to The Championship. Then they got into a financial muddle and nearly went bust, then they recovered and were back to their previous selves, now they seem to be back in crisis again. It was impossible to know if we were getting turned over by a good side or being caught on an off day. 

When I eventually turned the sound on, the away commentary were purring admirably at Wigan’s defensive shape and discipline. It wasn’t just the display that impressed, but the ability to both have a plan and stick to it. It was true, despite being the home side and one of the bigger clubs of the division, their plan had been to absorb our pressure and catch us on the break. As a discipline, it’s hard to do, but it’s just a different part of the same textbook to the one we’re using. Now our card is marked we’ll face teams like this more often.

Our calm been a refreshing change from the all-action Karl Robinson era, but last night when science met science, we lacked any guile and even some urgency to outfox it, it felt like we were executing a series of training drills in preparation for some future-time rather than chasing a win. It felt like scrapping for three points was less important than our meticulous application of scientific methodology. 

When the results were coming good a few weeks, I was encouraged that we seemed to be dominating while playing within ourselves. We seemed able to win by default. In the last week, with injury and illness concerns, I’m beginning to wonder if there is another gear or are we assuming The Science will work often enough to pick up the results we need.

Or, do we need a player who is wired a bit differently and can make a difference when The Science isn’t working or when it’s being neutralised by teams using the same textbook? Finding those players is a huge challenge, fewer exist because of the systems in place to produce players nowadays, they’re also harder to tolerate because many of the managers and coaches, Manning included, have been schooled in the same systems. As a general rule, professionals hate mavericks.

Applying The Science well and being resourced to do so should get us into the top six, but if we want promotion or the title, it still feels like we need something a little different to give us the edge we need.