It hasn’t been an easy few weeks, to say the least, for what we used to know as the good old days and no doubt there are plenty of us who desperately want to believe football has wised up and everything is different now. It just isn’t easy to be entirely sure when, in the last few days, a letter from the solicitors of one club has been brought to my attention that makes it absolutely clear there are still holes in the system, still people winging it and still the overwhelming sense that the modern‑day sport likes to operate by its own rules.

The letter is from Brabners, the law firm where Maurice Watkins, the chairman of Barnsley, is a senior partner and it contains a candid admission that the club employed a full-time physiotherapist to work in their academy without bothering to make the standard Criminal Records Bureau (CRB) checks – now known as the Disclosure and Barring Service (DBS) – that would ordinarily be mandatory for anyone working in junior football.

Ian Farmery was given the job without any of the routine checks that would apply if someone wanted to help out at a scout camp, or take a cleaning job at the local school, or any other kind of work that involved children. Farmery started at Oakwell in August 2011 and it wasn’t until after he left, in December 2014, that the people running the club found out he was given a 40-week suspended prison sentence for drug-dealing only a few months into the job. He had not been checked once, even though it is meant to be statutory for a new employee and the Football League recommends it is repeated every three years. “Contrary to club policies, a CRB (DBS) check was not undertaken prior to his employment,” the legal letter, sent to one of the academy boy’s parents in June this year, confirms. “A CRB [DBS] check was not undertaken in respect of Mr Farmery prior to his resignation.” No explanation is offered.

Farmery subsequently moved abroad and, to be absolutely clear, there is nothing whatsoever to suggest he did not do his job professionally, or that he or anyone at Barnsley is implicated in the latest update from the National Police Chiefs’ Council that 98 clubs at professional and amateur level have been identified, along with 83 suspects, from the 639 referrals to Operation Hydrant since Andy Woodward, and then Steve Walters, waived their anonymity to tell their stories in the Guardian.

Yet there is a broader story here and it does make me wonder how many other clubs, at all levels of football, might be taking the odd risk here and there, abandoning protocol and generally not taking the guidelines as seriously as they should, if Barnsley can usher someone into their academy without thinking it necessary to go through the usual checks.

Watkins spent 28 years as a director at Manchester United before the man described on the Brabners website as “one of the best known sports lawyers in the world” joined Barnsley’s board in May 2013. He has the sort of background, one imagines, where everything would be meticulously in place. Barnsley say that is now the case but I have also spoken to Kevin Philliskirk, previously the club’s head of education, in the last few days about his own time at Oakwell. Philliskirk, a former policeman, felt it was a “club that tried to cut corners”. He left in June this year and his recollection is that throughout his three years at Barnsley the club “did not have a proper DBS process in place”.

At which point, you might be thinking the same as me and asking yourself how many other clubs might be guilty of similar lapses. Is it merely a one-off? Or are Barnsley just the unlucky ones, having been caught out, when there are many others operating with the same kind of blurred priorities?

All we can really be certain about is that the Football League is aware about what has happened and Barnsley have opened themselves to the possibility of sanctions when, for instance, Farmery’s membership with the Health and Care Professions Council appeared to lapse in May 2012, meaning the club might have breached elite player performance plan regulations. At the very least, the authorities should be asking for an explanation and, if there are sanctions, the league ought to explain what they are.

Either way, it leaves a hole in the argument that so many people in high positions have been projecting recently that football, in 2016, is about as safe as it can possibly be. Greg Clarke, the chairman of the Football Association, spoke recently about clubs “sleepwalking” throughout the 1980s and 1990s.

Well, it turns out there are some in the modern game who have been guilty of taking a nap, too. And, without wishing to be alarmist, if Barnsley have been as lax as it sounds they might be lucky in one respect not to have encountered more problems than one bloke who, according to a report in the Doncaster Free Press in December 2011, was caught dealing mephedrone – also known as meow meow – a class-B drug.

In a statement, Barnsley have assured me the club have “completed a review, independently assessed, with the Football Association to ensure rigorous safeguarding procedures are in place, and fully in compliance with all FA recommendations”. What happened was “contrary to Barnsley FC policies” and the club say they have worked closely with the league “who are satisfied with our safeguarding procedures and policies”. Barnsley are “committed to a thorough safeguarding policy to protect children and young persons and all individuals who come into contact with the club”.

What all this corporate-speak lacks, perhaps, is any hint of regret, an acceptance that they messed up, or an explanation about how they could possibly let these things slide. There is no clarification either about what specifically has changed, although that is not entirely a surprise when if there is one thing, journalistically, that has become clear recently it is how difficult it can be to get straight answers out of football clubs when they have their backs pressed against a wall.

A colleague on another newspaper tells me he totted up 21 different approaches to Crewe Alexandra, a club with much more serious issues than Barnsley, before getting a response recently, and it has certainly been difficult to keep track of the number of occasions the relevant people at Gresty Road have swerved even the most mundane requests for information about the “independent review” they have apparently put in place.

The FA, to put it into context, has already announced that Clive Sheldon, a QC with considerable experience in child-protection matters, will be leading its own inquiry and that the aim is for full disclosure, give or take whatever legalities might crop up, with the overriding objective being “to ensure that any possible failings by the FA and clubs are brought to light”.

That still leaves the question about whether it can truly be independent when the FA is paying to investigate something that might eventually come back to its own door. Yet there is at least a sense the FA recognises this is not the time to look the other way and hope everything works out in the end. There is a promise of transparency, which is what we all want, whereas two weeks have passed since Crewe announced a “thorough investigation” and we are still waiting to hear anything about the terms of reference, who is in charge of the process and whether it is someone suitably qualified or, to put it one way, one of the chairman’s old mates from the Rotary Club cribbage team.

Not for the first time, the thought occurs that Crewe seem desperately in need of more PR expertise, for their own sake. The lack of knowhow feels startling and, in the meantime, whoever is orchestrating the investigation has not even made the first contact with the former players whose shattered lives have driven this story from the beginning.

From what I can gather, it would come as a shock to many of those players if that changed any time soon. That is how much faith they have in the club where their lives were shaped, and who can really blame them?

Last week, one of those players dug out a number for one of the club’s former employees to leave a message, after all these years, saying he would really appreciate the chance to speak about everything. There was no call back, and a few days later the same player tried again. An automated message told him his number had been blocked.