The days blurred into each other at the Wigan training complex.
Twelve days had passed, but for Wigan and its fans, it was beginning to feel like months instead.
Football had a way of being unmerciful with momentum, and Wigan had found that out in the cruellest possible fashion.
They had played three games in the space of two weeks, but even with those 3 games having been played with an interval close to 4 days, all they had managed were three draws.
Three times they had gone to the well and come back with something, but not enough.
The points trickled in ones instead of threes, and with every share of the spoils, the table shifted just slightly further out of reach.
Sixth place.
That was where they sat now, and they were only there because the goals they had scored outnumbered the goals of the team directly beneath them.
It was the kind of position that told you nothing and everything at once.
They were still in it.
