The difficulty, as ever, is knowing where to start.
Delia reaching for her chopping board first. I think at least two, big factors forced the board's hand. Three, possibly.
One, was the fair and reasonable suspicion that last night's exit from the FA Cup and the typically caustic comments that followed was merely teeing everyone up for a repeat for Burnley at home this weekend and the death throes of Nigel Worthington's regime. Only difference being that it was Barnsley bringing the wolves to whom the unloved manager would be thrown.
And with him three more desperately needed points.
Two, was the fear that history was repeating itself. That Glenn Roeder's managerial record suggested that his second season in charge always proves his downfall.
A manager with instant impact and connections – a Martin Taylor or a Ched Evans was always a phone call away – thereafter and events unravel on him. Newcastle and West Ham United were the two obvious examples; both could, in theory, be explained away by working with the Shepherds and the Browns of this world.
Trouble is, similar stories emerged from his spells at Watford and Gillingham. There was previous. This was all starting to follow a pattern.
Thirdly, there was the question of season ticket sales. Always going to be a difficult sell anyway minus Andrew Cullen and in the midst of the Great Depression, Roeder's relationship with the supporters – as in non-relationship with the supporters – was going to make that an even tougher nut to crack.
The punters were already voting with their feet last night.
And that, for me, lay at the heart of today's events. That relationship with the supporters.
It may also lie somewhere near the heart of what the club plan to do next. For someone, somewhere has to be in charge for that home clash with Barnsley.
And that someone has to 'get' what Norwich City supporters are all about – in a way that the last two 'outsiders' never did.
In fairness to Peter Grant, he at least came with softer edges than Roeder; Glenn bristled from day one. Few staff at either Colney or Carrow Road would claim that Roeder ever let them in to his life. He sacked most of them, anyway. No-one would expect invites to Sunday lunch every other week; that said, he didn't connect in a way that both a Worthington and Bruce Rioch did.
Maybe that was one of the reasons that Worthington over-stayed his welcome; inside Carrow Road he was liked; people wanted him to succeed. He brought a warmth and a wit to the place that the TV cameras never really allowed for.
Whether there's too much bad blood left in the system on that score is another matter; Rioch is similar. His departure in the midst of the goings-on between then chairman Bob Cooper and Bryan Hamilton prompted staff whip-rounds and bottles of bubbly dropped to Rioch's Ludham door.
Cut Bryan Gunn open and his rock will, likewise, be coloured yellow and green.
Given the timescale and the turnaround required to install anyone else ahead of Saturday, the smart money would be on the Sheriff being in charge for the Tykes game. But, in fariness, he's got the affection; the background; the intimate knowledge of how to work a Norfolk crowd.
And that's what Roeder's reign somehow lacked – warmth.
Maybe the whole West Ham experience had put him through the football mincer once-too often; 'Tumour Boy!' emerged with a heart of steel with regard to his professional outlook on life. Away from the cauldron of football and there could be found a warm, engaging family man. But football had turned him cold.
And Norwich don't really do cold; the club's owners aren't cold. And given the importance that both Delia Smith and Michael Wynn Jones place on being little more than 'ordinary supporters…' – a stance that both chairman Roger Munby and chief executive Neil Doncaster slip straight into line with – then Roeder's Annual General Meeting performance must have had the board's toes curling.
His England manager's remarks might, with hindsight, have been the beginning of the end; it's not great when your chairman is forced to intervene with words akin to: 'I don't think there's any need for that, Glenn…'
Of course, you can get away with murder if you're top six and flying; bottom six and sinking and you have to pick your words very, very carefully – and, on occasion, win yourself friends and time by telling the punters what they want to hear.
Even to the end, Roeder was setting the wrong tone; being too much his own man as opposed to the street-wise, political animal you need to be. Smooth feathers after you lose, don't ruffle them.
And if you're telling people in one sentence that you're down to your last 12 players, don't in your next breath damn two, on-loan Norwich kids for doing “just OK” in Division Two. Not when Chrissy Martin has just got three goals in two games; be cuter; be smarter; be softer.
Other similar straws blew in the wind; managerless they might be today, but someone in Carrow Road has enough about them to see the PR value of whipping Jamie Cureton back from his loan spell at Barnsley. Given the Tykes are the visitors, you'd start him on Saturday in the fairly certain knowledge that Jamie's heart will be pumping yellow and green.
Darren Huckerby's exit was a disaster from start to finish; if he wants a few grand a week in the expectation of a weekly cameo role in the final 20 minutes of a game, do it. Give the punters what they want; buy yourself time, slip him gently out of the building this summer, not last.
Whatever kicked off between Karren Brady and Roeder last Christmas, it did for Martin Taylor's signature; Premiership loans are all well and good – if they work. To cite Elliot Omosuzi and Ryan Bertrand as the 'best full-back pairing in the Championship' is fine – if the two teenagers can survive the rigours of a long, hard slog through the Turf Moor trenches with their England Under-19 credentials intact.
So far, they haven't. Adam Drury would be most people's choice for left-back. Or else give Simon Lappin a go. The warmth of applause directed in his direction last night as his name was announced suggested that the punters sympathies didn't lie with the manager on that one, either.
Which is why you strongly suspect that the incoming manager – or certainly if City go the short-term, 'Do us a job for five months…' route – needs to be alive to the workings of the Norfolk mind; needs to be aware of the expectations that come with the job.
The respect that needs to be due City's heroes; the respect that needs to be due the opinions of those that follow the club in such numbers over such distances week in, week out.
Roeder – for all his Premiership links and enviable contacts; for all his commitment to playing football the right way – never 'got' Norwich.
Just as Norwich never quite 'got' Roeder. And minus the kind of consistent run of results and performances that build both bridges and friendships, he was always running the risk of pushing one wrong button too many.
And with Lee Clark gone – leaping out lest anyone think that this was his mess, who knows? – so Roeder found himself ever more alone, ever more vulnerable and ever more needing to pick his words carefully.
Decent man, but never a Norfolk politician. And that was his downfall.