GIVEN the tawdry way in which Sam Allardyce’s England dreams exploded last year, few travelling supporters will be as complimentary as those Wanderers die-hards who journeyed down to Selhurst Park on Tuesday night.

Through all the trials and tribulations, the newspaper stings and public apologies at the end of his drive at Bromley Cross, most Boltonians held him in utmost reverence.

The world was waiting to knock him down and tell him what a greedy boy he had been. Yet folk in his hometown laughed off the indiscretion, and were singing his name at Rochdale within moments of his resignation.

Phil Parkinson voiced his support – quite against the grain at the time – and Wanderers chairman Ken Anderson did the same in his programme notes before last week’s goalless draw at the Macron.

Why then did Sam choose to pick a needless fight in the build-up to both games, making clumsy references to “sad” small crowds and driving the knife as deep as possible even after Tuesday’s game was won.

“I like to win every game. I would not have wanted that team to lose to Bolton,” he said.

“Some of that team are playing quite regularly in the Premier League, so if they’d lost they’d be telling me they’re not good enough to beat a League One side at home.”

He had said similar in the build-up to the replay, probably more as a motivation tool for the fringe players he was about to name than any serious antagonism towards the Whites. Nevertheless, such words lacked class.

Wanderers need no reminder they are in League One. It might have been appropriate to dwell on their demise at the tail-end of last season, but such misery feels incongruous when you see the excellent job being done to retore fortunes.

Even mistakenly referring to his opposite number Phil Parkinson as “Gary” in the post-match press conference at the Macron a fortnight ago was a bit disrespectful.

Sam is Sam. He was the architect of some fantastic adventures, the likes of which may not return for a long time, but while his former club built up his return, even buying him pasties as a welcome gift in the away dressing room, the goodwill was very one-way, at least in public.

His comments on closed stands and small crowds at the Macron in the first game were entirely unnecessary. The 11,683 gate was not an unreasonable one for an FA Cup game at the third-round stage. And Palace’s 7,149 hardly made Selhurst a cauldron of noise.

In 2003, Wanderers hosted Sunderland at the same stage and got 10,123, while less than 9,000 watched a replay defeat against Tranmere Rovers a year later.

Just five games into his Bolton managerial career he faced Palace at the (then) Reebok, with a fairly sparse 12,744 crowd fanning out around the stadium to see Claus Jensen and Eidur Gudjohnsen give him only his second win since returning to the club.

A fortnight later, less than 10,000 watched Wanderers beat Wimbledon 2-1, Gudjohnsen scoring again and Michael Johansen adding a second from the penalty spot.

Small in number when compared with the glory days of Premier League, perhaps.

But that passionate core support represented the club’s beating heart back then, and they still do today.

They were the ones who turned up at Aldershot, Newport County and Scarborough and can recall songs about Barry Cowdrill or John Thomas just as readily as Youri Djorkaeff or Jay-Jay Okocha.

By making jibes at Wanderers decline, rather than being magnanimous, Sam effectively forgot where he came from.

The man who quite frequently describes Bolton as “his club”, who still pays his cash into the club’s Lifeline fund, and is a paid-up member of the Supporters’ Trust should surely be above such things. Evidently not.

It was understandable, if not entirely palatable, when Phil Gartside was in charge and the nasty undercurrent reared its head each time Big Sam’s team came to town. Such bitterness no longer exists, at least on Bolton’s part.

In comparison, the man who prepares his Southend side to face Wanderers this weekend watched from the press box on Tuesday night to plot their downfall but held his grace perfectly.

Phil Brown reminisced alongside old team-mate Tony Kelly in the press room, wished his old club well – albeit not at Roots Hall – and did everything you would expect from a person steeped in Bolton history.

Perhaps the master should take a leaf out of his old pupil’s book if he comes up against Wanderers again?