Swain on Birmingham 2 Wolves 1

He has inflicted some pain and anguish on Wolves down the years but nothing perhaps quite as bad as this double helping.

Just when Wolves thought it was safe to go back into a derby without being hunted by one of the game's finest predators, up popped He Who Shall Not Be Named to devour them.

Actually, there's no point being churlish. Sometimes, no matter how morale-shatteringly tough it is to take, you have to acknowledge a craftsman at work and Kevin Phillips is one heck of a craftsman.

That enduring ability to lose defenders and find vacant yards in a congested penalty area before finishing with faultless technique can only be admired, even if it is beginning to look as if Albion's former favourite is on a personal mission to keep Wolves out of the Premier League.

Four in four games for Albion during the epic battles of 2006/07, the season of five Black Country derbies, was followed by Phillips stepping off the bench to over-turn a 1-0 lead with two goals in the last 10 minutes for Birmingham City, his third West Midlands club.

Perhaps the most valuable bit of business Wolves missed in the final week of transfer deadline activity was to make it four and sign their nemesis, if only to prevent his playing against them.

This 2-1 defeat wrapped up the worst week of the campaign so far for Mick McCarthy's team. Their performance was entirely different, in both nature and personnel, than the wretched collapse at Crystal Palace.

But fine results for their rivals the day before followed that FA Cup surrender before Phillips shut down what for a long period of this game looked like a rousing response to the team's growing adversity.

Ultimately, the manager was left nursing a devastated dressing room populated by players physically and psychologically ravaged by this experience.

Now, more than ever, the Molineux boss faces a test of his powers of motivation to ignite fresh spirit, belief and conviction from men who have served him valiantly but must today be questioning their chances of survival.

That was a rotten reward for a more-than-decent effort in handling one of the Premier League's form sides, rivals who in November had constructed a much more convincing defeat of the team they trailed by some distance over the promotion line last season.

Yesterday's success was much more flattering for Alex McLeish's men but the way in which the Blues boss could turn to his bench for a vital injection of quality during the final half-hour underlined the differences that now separate these neighbours.

As well as Phillips's goal instincts, McLeish was able to also introduce to good effect Craig Gardner, the midfielder Wolves also coveted when his release from Villa became inevitable.

Defeat was a crushing way for McCarthy to 'celebrate' his 51st birthday, it was also a wholly undeserved finish to the day for so many of his players.

None moreso than Kevin Doyle, whose ability to make a feast from the crumbs of leading the front-line by himself continues to sustain the manager's belief in the 4-1-4-1 system attempted to steer a path through this bleak winter's fixtures.

If Phillips represents a master of the sharp end of a forward's duties, Doyle's efforts in turning a sometimes patchy service into something meaningful are just as impressive - sadly, they are not proving to be quite so telling.

Three Blues defenders - goalkeeper Joe Hart and centre-halves Scott Dann and Roger Johnson - were cautioned as a direct result of Doyle's pestering while the Irishman also took a leaf out of the Phillips book by popping up in the right place at the right time to fire his team in front before the break.

Wolves had earned that, first by resisting a ferocious start from Blues before going on to establish a measure of control with the line-up which had drawn at Hull.

But the momentum of the home team's opening did threaten to sweep Wolves aside, as McCarthy's re-strengthened line-up failed to deal with the trademark advances from deep by Lee Bowyer.

A splendid Ronald Zubar tackle on the midfielder was followed by a point-blank headed clearance from Michael Mancienne - who had a fine game in midfield - to deny Cameron Jerome a certain goal while all manner of set-piece skirmishes around goalkeeper Marcus Hahnemann somehow finished with no damage incurred.

Instead, Wolves held firm and as the storm blew itself out, then so the containing nature of McCarthy's team shape took over - and not just in stifling the home side but in beginning to chisel out opportunities.

So much so that when Doyle's strike arrived on 42 minutes, McLeish "felt a goal was coming" from his opponents.

It was a simple enough chance, as Johnson deflected a Matt Jarvis shot on to his post and into the striker's path, but the number of players Wolves were getting into Blues' area during this phase proved that the system now used for the last three league games is not without merit.

If only they possessed a little more quality, a little more composure.

As Blues thrashed away with ever-increasing desperation in the second half, so the counter-attacking opportunities were obvious but eluded a side which came instead to rely on the Jody Craddock and Christophe Berra partnership - back to a much better working order - and the unstinting running this group of players have always offered.

Would they be good enough to score a second goal? Would they be good enough to see off the game without it? Those were the key questions Wolves fans were asking themselves as Phillips entered for the final, fateful half hour.

They soon had the answers. Wolves inability to hold on to the ball invited Blues to come at them with increasing intensity and, although they did not ship a meaningful chance until the final 10 minutes began, tiring defenders make mistakes.

For the 80th minute equaliser, Blues' third sub Keith Fahey caught them out with a deligtful chip to the far post where Gardner headed back for the lurking Phillips to pounce.

Five minutes later, Stephen Ward was undone by Stephen Carr for a cross which found Phillips pulling away from the central defenders to obtain sufficient space for a drilled, angled drive to beat Hahnemann.

It was a gut-wrenching moment for a side who must now prove all over again they have the stomach for a fight growing ever more arduous.