THE WHEEL TURNS
Ole Gunnar Solskjær must be yearning for days of yore when the only pile-ons to which he was subjected came in the wake of match-winning goals, his ecstatic teammates burying him at the bottom of an exultant pile of suffocating humanity, from which he would eventually emerge with a beam of genuine pleasure lighting up his pixie-like features. Whatever your allegiance, it was nigh on impossible to dislike Ole the player. But while sticking the boot into Ole the manager seems tantamount to seal-clubbing, the past 24 hours have seen plenty give it a right good go.
After Sunday’s shellacking at the hands of Liverpool, the honeymoon is officially over and in the press, on increasi…