ANYONE who has, or has met, a four-year-old child will know the problem: an insatiable desire to ask big questions but little ability to listen to the answers.

'Why is the sky blue? Why is the Earth round? Why were you in a foul mood in bed yesterday morning when I jumped on your tummy?'

Many of those wailing about a 'Plan B' on Tuesday night seemed similar to our stereotypical tyke: they wanted something but had no idea how to define what it actually was.

Too many of those hastily texted complaints demanded a simple way of play which meant lots of goals are scored and none are conceded, but without hinting as to how it might work.

If they do have the answer to that question there are football managers across the world who would love to hear it. And then buy the book.

Instead it seems the many extra elements added to Mark Cooper's Plan A over the season have passed them by: hard situational pressing, a second pivot, a near-post corner routine, the off-the-ball diagonal runs from centre backs to open spaces.

The list of changes goes on.

Instead all we are offered is a fag-packet recipe for unicorn risotto with crispy centaur croutons.

OK, we might have some of the cheaper ingredients, a few we will need to buy, but as for the rest? Well, that might be a bit more tricky.

For this group of players, and in spite of its comforting familiarity, 4-4-2 is as ludicrous as wyvern cheeks slow-braised in sarcasm.

In fact, Yaser Kasim in an over-run central midfield already sounds a bit Heston Blumenthal, doesn't it?

One of the few players who might possibly fit that system is the one we are missing (and boy are we missing him), Louis Thompson.

Thompson's absence isn't merely about his ability to move the ball at speed, his tactical flexibility or his rapid recovery of possession.

It is also his ability to support the team, to dig deep and to find greater drive, not depression, in adversity.

Now there is an answer, and an example, but you might not like it.