People might think Mick McCarthy did nothing to be ashamed of when he made 10 changes for Wolves defeat at Manchester United.

They would argue that, first and foremost, he had a duty to look after the welfare of the football club which pays him handsomely.

That resting his first-team players for a match they were unlikely to win to keep them fresh for a game against Burnley on Sunday was common sense.

You cannot fault the logic, but still a lot of people would be wrong.

The truth is, the moment McCarthy scribbled down his teamsheet on Tuesday night the most popular game in the world lost another chunk of its integrity.

It has not been a good season so far in that regard. Not with the persistent diving, the endemic fouling and Thierry Henry's notorious handball which deprived the Republic of Ireland of a penalty shoot-out for a place at the World Cup.

McCarthy's teamsheet, however, goes to the core of what is wrong with football.

Simply put, it is that no top manager is willing to put the interests of the game before his own and that of his team.

Diving, to take one example, could be stopped in a heartbeat by managers with the will to make a stand against a practice which has become the cancer of the modern game.

They don't and they won't, preferring only to see the cheating of the opposition, never of their own players. And so it gains an increasing hold in the culture of football.

The 'crime' of McCarthy is even more blatant. Yet it presents a problem for the Premier League. Where do you draw the line?

The Premier League's law E20 is quite specific. It states: "In every league match, each participating club shall field a full-strength team."

McCarthy clearly drove a double decker bus full of reserves through that particular regulation.

But what if he had changed only three or four players, as Sir Alex Ferguson tends to do on a regular basis when he is resting the likes of Ryan Giggs and Paul Scholes?

Does "full strength" include any side from a club good enough to beat the opposition because it has a squad as big as the Chinese army?

Does it mean any team owned by a billionaire rich enough to buy the best and only the best, so the notion of reserves is redundant?

And how does it apply to the rotation policy so favoured by Rafael Benitez for much of his Liverpool reign?

These are all questions thrown up by McCarthy's brazen surrender of three points now to try to gain three more later.

The margins are unclear and if the Premier League investigate and punish Wolves then they will be obliged to probe all future incidents when weakened teams are selected.

Some might say that was a chore. I'd say it was a challenge to embrace. In the interests of fans paying small fortunes to travel to matches and in preserving the integrity of the competition.

McCarthy says he does not regret his decision and would do it again. But if Wolves are relegated by the odd point at the end of this season he might like to ponder these four results.

In August, Burnley 1 Manchester United 0. In September, Wigan 3 Chelsea 1. In October, Sunderland 1 Arsenal 0. In November, Fulham 3 Liverpool 1.

The "Big Four" are not invincible. On the contrary, with the overloaded fixture list they have rarely been more vulnerable to small teams with heart and desire. Teams willing to have a go.

Football is the sport which dominates all others. Its influence reaches into every corner of the globe. It has many flaws, but the qualities which set the Premier League apart are the depth, the robustness and the honesty of its competition. The fact that, on any given day, bottom can beat top.

A lot of people believe those qualities should be preserved at all cost. And they would be right.

Football does not come with guarantees.

Just ask Manchester City, who have forked out £225million for a team which is eighth in the table and travelling south.

Or Portsmouth, who won the FA Cup last year and now struggle to pay the wages on a regular basis.

Yet Rafael Benitez "guarantees" Liverpool will finish in the top four. Perhaps "guarantees" means "hopes against hope" in Spanish.

West Ham assistant boss Steve Clarke this week rushed to the defence of manager Gianfranco Zola, whose team linger second from bottom of the Premier League.

"I'm the guy who was brought in to help Gianfranco," said Clarke. "He's a novice manager, just in the game, so if anybody wants to point fingers then point them at me."

Rather than deflect blame it highlighted Zola's inexperience, his vulnerability and West Ham's dire position.

Sometimes assistants should refrain from assisting.

When striker Bobby Zamora was at West Ham his inability to hit the target was satirised brilliantly by the home fans in the following ditty to the tune of Amore: "When the ball hits your head and you're sat in Row Z, that's Zamora."

Zamora has never been prolific. But he scored twice as Fulham beat Basle 3-2 to take their place in the last 32 of the Europa League and has been key in the first half of an encouraging Fulham season.

I'd say he's graduated to Row B at least.