Blog - We kept going, we kept believing

I make no bones about it - I fell out of love with Wolves long before relegation at Brighton, writes Adam Thompson.

It wasn't just on the pitch that we were a disaster but also in the directors' box.

But on the opening day of the season at Preston with 5,000 old gold and black soldiers I was there and I was ready to go to war to get out the trench that is League One.

Should we have been in this division? No. Did we deserve to be? Absolutely.

It was a drab 0-0 draw but it wasn't about the result the away following sent out a message we were willing to fight our way back to The Championship with Kenny Jackett.

It was easier to get on board with a team that was playing attractive football led by a blend of homegrown and gutsy performers.

But bizarrely it was a hard fought 2-1 away victory at Bradford that had me believing we could be promoted. When the score flashed up on my phone I knew it was the type of win that champions were made of. I know it was Bradford, I know it was League One, but it was written we'd fall like so many times before.

Then came the tricky Christmas period. The loss away at Gillingham left me so sick I cut short my night out with the lads.

For the first time doubt was clouding my thoughtss and the talk in the Thompson household was if Jackett would be Stale Solbakken Mark II.

But like all those associated with the club this season we kept going, we kept believing, just as that beautifully crafted banner that drapes over the North Bank reads: 'This is our love and it knows no division'.

Walsall away was another defining match. Now with Nouha Dicko, Michael Jacobs and James Henry I was optimistic. As Bakary Sako lashed in a third at the Banks's Stadium you could see a tremendous amount of weight lifted off the shoulders of the travelling support – it was almost party time.

But for me the highlight of the season was being among the 9,000 at MK Dons. I saw one Dons fan tweet 'we are Wolves' cup final' - they we right. It had a cup final feel to it. Me, my dad and a coach load of die hard Wanderers fans from Bilston and Portobello headed to Buckinghamshire.