Sheffield Wednesday are not Leicester City - and that's impressive: Alex Miller's Owls column

In a parallel but easily imaginable universe, the whole thing is on fire. Scarcely-populated away attendances are bellowing from the stands in disgust at their winless-since-September side and a string of managers have long since resigned. Players are feigning knocks and tales from the training ground suggest widespread down toolery. Phone-ins are laced with anger and social media is all foamy-mouthed, with videos of players swearing at fans doing the rounds.

Despite it all, that is not the case at Sheffield Wednesday. In fact it is quite the opposite.

In times of crisis, communities have two options; pull together or fall apart. Watching down from the Riverside press box on Wednesday evening was a reminder of how communal an effort his Sheffield Wednesday season has been. While the two scenarios are completely different and should not be compared directly, watching Leicester City melt down on confirmation of their relegation to League One just 24 hours earlier was a reminder of just how different a prospect Sheffield Wednesday’s new owners would be inheriting.

As I say, chalk and cheese. One of Leicester’s biggest problems is that they must work out how to fund an £85m training complex from the third tier while shifting on well-paid individuals of international quality. Should Arise’s takeover of the club complete, Wednesday will look to take a first step on recovering from several decades of underinvestment.

But when Liam Palmer redirected his players to undertake their pre-match huddle in front of the travelling Wednesday fans, as those fans received the admiration of their Teesside counterparts and as teammates raced to console Gabriel Otegbayo for a match-defining mistake, the culture and togetherness of the place looks strong. They’re just so desperately under resourced.

Having rubber-necked Leicester’s draw with Hull City on Tuesday evening, it’s clear they have problems that can’t be addressed with the continuation of parachute payments. They’ll help, of course.

It’s a different problem and frankly I know which I’d plump for - Leicester’s. The scale of the turnaround and investment required at S6 should not be underestimated.

But the way in which the club has been held together from pitch to terrace has been a remarkable display of human defiance that too cannot be overstated.

While social media might mock Henrik Pedersen’s approach to post-match media, his ‘pride in the boys’ and his softly-softly approach to any dangling of player criticism, it’s held things together behind the scenes as players and coaches battle circumstances most unworkable. Other managers - some recently of this parish, perhaps - would have not been able to hold back on the easy option of shifting blame or making clear their players are not good enough for the level. Pedersen has resisted and takes arrows for that.

There’s no doubt his continuation into next season is a controversial one and that the argument for a clean slate is a strong one, but the fact remains that those in-house have huge faith in him carrying on. The working relationship between him, Kevin Beadell and his senior coaching staff will be of paramount importance in laying the first bricks of a rapid rebuild under a consortium with a green football knowledge.

The nature of defeat at Boro was gentle and came off the back of three draws. As rambled in the last matchday column, through these weary eyes that should be seen as an achievement, so desperate is the landscape they’re working from.

That supporters have registered this direness and have responded with chest-out pride in their defiance is a subject already committed to numerous columns and remains as awe-inspiring as it has for months. So too the fact that a tired and brow-beaten squad is not phoning it in. That takes leadership from within.

Beyond the results is a more interesting view. Should the Americans roll on to ownership, they’re inheriting a barren shell of a thing, but one that is unified and full of hope. While Harry Winks swears at angry supporters and Leicester’s owner exchanges back-and-forths in club car parks, Wednesday’s shabby blank canvas has a strange feeling of momentum despite the record-breaking misery on the field.

Those who have curated it should be very proud of that.