In the end all it took was a bold move and an opposition with the cutting edge of a satsuma.

Three goals, all born of the kind of errors that Rovers have been serving up for others.

The loss of Amari’i Bell to injury was, if not for him, a blessing in disguise.

If Craig Conway is not as comfortable in this position then he certainly gives the impression that he will give concentration to it.

The irony of players almost getting in a muddle trying to protect debutant Tyler Magloire, when he was visibly the most adept at sensing and disposing of danger, could have side-stepped into farce.

Wigan obviously came to try and prey on the makeshift defence and, as even the poorest teams in this division do, created some chances but on this occasion there was to be no crowing from the usually ‘interactive’ Joe Garner and Nick Powell who were as toothless as Shane MacGowan.

Even Paul Cook seemed to content himself with his woolly hat and endless coffee.

Those calls for Tony Mowbray's head this week looked pretty pathetic as our manager stood tall and proud in the wind, clad only in his usual smart sweater and slacks whilst his opposite number huddled into his skinny latte like a subway busker on a break.

One thing struck me in the first half and it is that Adam Armstrong is so reminiscent of Ruben Rochina; he takes on four players and loses the ball to the fifth just as the midfield commits themselves to the attack.

He will produce magic, and become more rounded, as has Rochina, but still needs to lift his head up occasionally.

But, as ever, it fell to the creaking legs of Danny Graham to kickstart the Blue and Whites.

A truly emphatic penalty betrayed no nerves even though many fans felt it through the icy blasts of cold.

A few who stayed indoors with the red wine and red button and missed the red cheeks sported by those of us who ventured out, informed me it was boring.

It can be when you are removed from the action.