Though nothing has yet taken place to continue or accelerate the decline of Nottingham Forest, it is undoubtedly still in full swing.

We are a matter of weeks away from three fixtures that could well be a passport to the relative paradise of the Championship.

But time itself is against us. Every week that passes under current circumstances only serves to pull Forest deeper into woe.

The evidence is all around us; it lurks beneath the peeling, faded paint of the Trent End steel, it echoes in every murmur of discontentment, and it beams in the reflection of the floodlights on every empty seat.

If Nottingham Forest was any other kind of business it would have closed its doors to the public long ago.

Tonight’s appalling performance did not surprise or move me, and neither did Colin Calderwood’s poor decision-making and bizarre tactics. I am desensitised to both.

What struck me was the numb, bewildered silence of the supporters and the volume of empty seats.

The darkness and the floodlights seemed to add a particular emphasis to the daunting reality.

Every vacant red seat wore a white stripe from the glare of the lights to create a spectacular illustration of the emptiness.

Across the stadium there was no tension or excitement to speak of; the suspense-building music that blares pre-match is in such sharp contrast that it is very nearly amusing.

Thousands of pale peach smudges sit and twitch and stir only to clench a fist in anger.

Little of this is any more than an intensification of problems that have been bubbling beneath the surface for some time, but tonight’s non-event is further evidence that we are nearing the crescendo.

The days of tier or stand closures and contagious apathy are closer than I dare to consider.

Promotion? I struggle to see how.

If we attacked sides and asked the questions I am quite sure that we would be capable, but the return of the cagey, sidewards football suggests that our ‘manager’ is yet to conjure the same understanding.

We were overrun and out-worked by a side that is ecstatic merely with the prospect of League One survival.

Most worryingly they moved the ball around with greater purpose and understanding than Forest ever have done under present management.

Simple balls were effortlessly cutting apart our defence, particularly those that were played inside our wingers.

The remaining weeks of the season, if nothing else, provide an opportunity for the squad and management to show the rest of the division – and us – that they are ready for the play-off challenge.

But it may be far too late.

For all of our talented professionals and ‘young starlets’ we are consistent only in disappointing people.

Ratings:

Smith – 6 – poor kicking.

Chambers – 4 – got it all wrong; an early injury and he was a yard off the pace thereafter.

Morgan – 7 – solid and an occasional reason to open your eyes as he steamed forward.

Wilson – 5 – mistake prone again, not the Kelvin Wilson we grew to admire and depend upon earlier in the season.

Lockwood – 4.5 – delivery was good in the first half, but not so much in the second. Completely drained of confidence and, since joining Forest, the ability to defend.

McGugan – 6 – always more likely to pick out a useful ball, or do anything worthwhile, than his replacement James Perch.

Clingan – 6 – busy, but as ever he couldn’t find the killer ball. Snubbed the usual seventeen opportunities to shoot from just outside the area.

Cohen – 6 – one or two speculative efforts broke up the boredom, but he again struggled to find his role despite ample work rate.

Ormerod – 6.5 – ran and ran and ran and ran. But asking Ormerod to play as a lone striker in a 4-5-1 is akin to accepting a 4-6-0 approach. He sank deep in search of action, and nobody filled his gap.

Agogo – 6 – steady, without rattling any cages.

Commons – 6 – frustrating in the sense that nothing he did came off, but he was pretty much forced to try it all himself because we had no other ideas.

Subs:

McCleary – 5.5

Perch - 5

Sinclair - 5

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