David Pleat was doing his best. "No, it doesn't get any easier with age. Yes, there is more pressure on managers nowadays. You need patience and time. At the moment it's illusive. It's very hard to play without a centre forward. last year we did the best that we could do. I don't think we turned the other cheek today."
These were words spokenly wearily, yet pleasantly, and almost gave the impression of Pleat as a phlegmatic 52-year-old, a man whose considerable experience had broadened his perspective.
Almost, but not quite. Asked if the game, the sheer frustration of football, ever made him feel like walking away from it all, Pleat replied: "Where would I walk to?"
The pleading, almost innocent passion in his voice revealed the real Pleat, a man consumed by football, and therefore a man who needs to be cuddled and cajoled just as much as any sulking import. This was especially so on Saturday night because Pleat had just witnessed his Sheffield Wednesday side carved apart by a merciless Manchester United.
It left Wednesday below even Barnsley, suddenly November's wind-chill is a major factor at Hillsborough as well as Downing Street and presumably Pleat's cold-blooded half-time substitution of his two mincing Italians, Benito Carbone and Paolo di Canio, will reduce the temperature further.
Pleat had had to do something though. Four down in 41 minutes, Wednesday were already a beaten rabble and the chances of Carbone and de Canio leading a second half fight-back from the front were spaghetti thin. So, too, of course, were Wednesday's overall hopes.
Those had died in the 19th minute when United's second, a fluky ricochet, went through the hapless, crumbling figure of Kevin Pressman. The Wednesday goalkeeper's first contribution had been even worse, going down in instalments to meet a Teddy Sheringham shot that Chief Ironside could have saved comfortably.
Pleat, to his credit, did not publicly harangue his goalkeeper but must have known it was Pressman's slip that started the avalanche. Until then Wednesday had actually offered the greater threat, but di Canio's one and only meaningful effort was held by Peter Schmeichel and thereafter the Italian played as if he had an invisible handbag on each arm.
An unchallenged header from Andy Cole and a well taken volley by Ole Gunnar Solksjaer reduced the contest to a practise game for United - you can always tell when they are relaxed because Brian Kidd starts throwing sweet wrappers at the back of Brian McClair's head and he was doing this before half-time - and although Guy Whittingham scored bravely after the interval, the goal came in between a second from both Sheringham and Solksjaer.
No wonder, therefore, that Alex Ferguson was a happy man. Not only is he getting easy matches after Europe - Crystal Palace and Barnsley at home - on Saturday he got another before United face Feyenoord on Wednesday night.
Ryan Giggs and Denis Irwin, both rested, should be fit he said, and as for the selection problem up front, it was "agony". Ferguson laughed and left, but Pleat, who did not use the same word, was just left.
