You would have got long odds a year ago on a game against Huddersfield Town being the Mac Daddy of six pointers, writes Wolves blogger Tim Spiers.
Last season, we were mixing it with the likes of Robin van Persie, Luis Suarez and the-best-player-in-the-world-by-miles Gareth Bale.
Who would have thought that Alex Smithies – yes, that guy – would stand between us and the goals we need tomorrow to help avoid arguably the most embarrassing relegation in our history.
Embarrassing, because in the 114 seasons Wolves have graced the football league, the club has spent precisely five of them outside English football’s top two divisions.
Now I wasn’t around for the dark days of 1923-24 when we slummed it in Division Three North - a league won by Nelson FC, nicknamed the Admirals of course, a year earlier.
But I’m going to safely assume that relegation a year earlier wasn’t as traumatic as this.
That’s unless the 1922-23 side contained a group of ludicrously overpaid, pandered-to players who decided to start performing to anywhere near their potential 37 games into the campaign.
Or if the club had a chairman who acted about as rationally as Ken Barlow at an over-50s single ladies’ Gala Bingo night.
So in the absence of anyone who was there and who can offer reasonable insight, we will chalk that season off to experience.
However from years 1985 to 1989 – and I know there are plenty who can attest to this, including the 74,392 who say they went to Chorley – we were precisely where we deserved to be.
Mismanagement and broken promises were rife when we tumbled down the leagues in the 1980s.
The infamous Bhatti brothers playing their own unique role as we came close to not even existing as a football club anymore. But – and here’s the point to labour – we was broke.
Just under £2million in the red, barely a football ground to speak of, not even a pot to do whatever in.
Fast forward 30 years and, despite what Mr Morgan and Mr Moxey will preach about belt-tightening, we are absolutely loaded.
Morgan has amassed a huge multi-million pound fortune in his other life as an exceptionally good version of Bob the Builder.
The club – at least until this season – has probably never been in ruder health, financially.
As greedy clubs in the Premier League racked up debts to make your eyes water, we stayed in the black and were hailed as a bastion of prudency.
To offset relegation last summer we sold off Steven Fletcher for £14million and Matt Jarvis for £11million which by simple mathematics adds up to £25million – yes, £25million!
The sums wouldn’t cover Yaya Toure’s wages for more than six months, but they still beggar belief.
So why, someone tell me why, when we have one of the highest wage bills in the league, are we one of the worst teams in the league?
Sadly, the numbers don’t add up at Wolves these days and there are countless reasons – many of which have been pored over to death – why we are where we are.
Morgan’s heart-on-the-sleeve press conference a few weeks ago silenced his critics in the short term and three successive victories on the pitch quelled anger in the stands and gave us all hope.
But defeat to Bolton in another gutless display – combined with yet more table-defying results elsewhere – has left us teetering on the brink of the bottom three.
So this is where we are. Huddersfield at home. Defeat is unthinkable, particularly with a visit from high-flying Hull on the horizon followed by a difficult trip to Charlton.
Victory puts Huddersfield right in the mire and gives us the breathing room we so desperately need to avoid going to Brighton on the last day needing a result.
It’s the biggest game we have had since the stomach-churning rollercoaster than was Blackburn at home on the final day of 2010-11.
If we win we should have enough in our locker to get us over the line, but if we lose it may be one setback too many for this bedraggled confidence-shy squad – it really is that big.
So Dean Saunders, please, I beg you, please please please, do what you did against Middlesbrough and Birmingham.
Go for it, don’t sit back like you hinted at earlier in the week and make us "hard to beat."
We are not hard to beat Dean – the Aberystwyth Under-10s School Girls’ Choir would give us a decent game, you have got to face facts.
But when we attack at a high tempo, leave a few gaps, sure, but push teams back and bombard the penalty area, we are actually not that bad.
Yes, it’s not aesthetically pleasing but it’s the only way we know how, the way we were programmed for five years by Mick McCarthy.
So put Adam Hammill on the wing, Bjorn Sigurdarson up front, leave Jack Robinson at left back and just go for it, hold nothing back.
And the players, we haven’t had you all season but we need you now, more than ever, to strain ever sinew, fight for every loose ball and scrap for your lives.
And if the supporters get agitated, block it out, don’t blame anyone but yourself, do what you’re paid to do and perform like you’re supposed to perform.
Don’t write your name in the history books for the wrong reasons. Don’t let this great club down.