During celebration of our equaliser I took the time to watch Calderwood. The man was out of control.

He bolted towards the Forest supporters, leaping into the air and clenching his fist, before eventually sinking into a heap on his knees. For several seconds he sat slumped on the turf until David Kerslake picked him up and escorted him back to the bench.

Later in the game he aimed kicks at the bench in tantrums more intense than I have ever seen from the man.

I believe, indeed it is clear, that Calderwood is having serious difficulty in coping with the expectations of the club he manages.

Tonight his side showed flickers of an improvement on the usually repugnant away day serving. But it was limited to fleeting periods in the second half.

For the first 45 minutes we made an exceedingly ordinary Southend side look exemplary. And just what Calderwood was thinking with his formation I will never know.

I’m not interested in what it was supposed to be, or what Radio Nottingham said it was. We lined up in what can only be described as a 5-2-3 with Clingan being pushed so far back that anyone could be forgiven for thinking that we had six defenders and no midfield.

It was a categorical failure. Long ball after long ball came back on to us, whilst Agogo, Holt and Ormerod rotated but scarcely had a meaningful touch. Frankly it was a crackpot strategy that would have failed on a computer game, never mind in real life.

The 800 or so Forest fans were in relatively good voice, but the most audible chant of the entire evening was “4-4-2”.

Packed inside the tin shed that is Roots Hall, with biting winds swirling inward, Calderwood is fortunate that the reaction was not more severe.

Were it not for a revitalised second half display I am sure it would have been.

Southend showed why they are not challenging for second spot themselves. They swooned and cowered at Forest’s pressure and, if we were a side with confidence, a side destined for promotion, we could comfortably have taken them.

As it stands we just didn’t do enough. It’s vintage Forest – do enough to avoid a disgusted backlash on the big occasion, whilst ultimately failing to make the grade.

It has never been so obvious that we are destined for the play-offs and little more.

Indeed we are reaching the point whereby even the removal of the manager would be unlikely to bring about the kind of run that we now need to avoid the play-off quagmire.

So what next? We sit tight; we continue to follow moronically without expectation and with a manager that nobody will be happy with even if we are promoted. And the most likely outcome? A fourth year in the abyss; even lower crowds, even duller atmospheres, even worse players.

Any Chelsea fan ranting in expletives about losing a Carling Cup final is welcome to sample our way of life for a week.

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