Uneasy is probably the polite way of describing it; there will be corners out there in messageboard land in which outright fury reigns as City's traditional Achilles heel – their chronic inability to turn chances into goals – remains, for now, wholly unanswered.

It is those two words – 'for now' – upon which many a hope still lingers.

Because City chief Glenn Roeder has clearly got someone in mind for the role; someone who would fit that six-foot-something bill and would give the likes of Cureton and Lupoli a big target man to play off.

The trouble with those two words is that coming with under a fortnight of this summer's transfer window still to run, you know that there is at least another 11 days of this to come; and, if it doesn't, there will be a week's further grace before the Premier League loan market opens its doors for business and every other Championship club starts to play that 'It's an emergency....' game loan-wise.

Which, if it gets to that stage, it will be in Norwich's case. For by then, the Canaries will have travelled to Cardiff, played host to Birmingham City and had the joys of another trip to Plymouth Argyle.

Before which lies the fortnight break that accompanies England's return to World Cup action – traditionally the time of year when all manner of bitter, navel-gazing ensues when things aren't quite right in the Kingdom of the Canaries.

Fortunately – for now – the moment when Shola Ameobi holds up a Town shirt has been put on hold courtesy of the 26-year-old's tight hamstrings; thus confirming Roeder's 'educated guess' of last week that his switch south wouldn't go according to plan.

But it is little more than a temporary straw to cling to and
one that could yet change overnight.

Somehow an answer has to be found –before the faithful's patience matches the likely points tally.

And that's the big danger; that the crowd's impatience come the visit
of Kevin Phillips in eight days time rubs off on the players; does that and then the downward spiral continues – shots are snatched at, volleys are blazed over, headers limp wide.

If ever a club was holding out for a hero, it's the Canaries.

And until one wanders over the Wensum, expect nerves to be shredded for a while longer.

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