If those boffins at Opta Statistics measured stress levels at this time of year, then surely they’d be twiddling their thumbs.
A couple of Irish cakewalks, followed by some marginally more meaningful fare back in England should render a heart monitor pretty dormant for a Wolves fan right now.
No pre-season defeats thus far and the Championship cut and thrust still some distance away.
So why do I sense one or two twitchy bums as the Big Kick Off draws closer?
Maybe it’s in our nature. Maybe it’s the heat. Or maybe it’s the realisation that the Norwich game will arrive with only one new face in the squad (with Rowe out injured).
With Harry McGuire eluding, a reputable new striker frustrating and Jamie O’Hara active only in shagging, there still appear to be jigsaw pieces missing.
That damned Express & Star ‘Bomb Squad’ catchphrase (regrettably used on the 7/7 anniversary, incidentally) must be causing Kenny Jackett headaches, not least Jez Moxey and Steve Morgan, who receive daily reminders of the profligacy they’d prefer to forget.
Surely the drain on resources is having some sort of effect on our transfers, however much the club protests.
Having read Sir Alex Ferguson’s book while kicking back on a week’s holiday of my own, I’m staying relaxed ahead of the new campaign, irrespective.
Injuries permitting – which is always the biggest reason for concern as a Wolves fan – I think we’ll finish in the top six.
Any expectation of anything more, irrespective of who else might or might not sign for us, must be considered unreasonable, considering the competition we’re up against.
Even the great Sir Alex had a fair few problems with signings as he observed in his book, with the development of youth the one aspect of the club he could control with certainty.
He missed out on Petr Cech and Di Canio (who he thought would have been a superstar), not to mention the more famous examples of Gasgoigne and Shearer.
In taking punts on Bellion and Kleberson for example, he failed, while a more typically successful signing of Javier Hernandez owed everything to a month’s worth of due diligence out in Mexico, after all manner of scouting reports were filed beforehand.
Sebastien Veron, while acknowledged as one of the most gifted he’d ever come across, simply failed to work.
Interestingly, the likes of Welbeck, Nick Powell and even Tom Cleverley excited him more, as dressing room harmony complemented his obsession of the bigger picture.
The chances are that Jackett has missed out on a few players and will miss out on one or two more.
But with the squad at the perfect age and Ikeme, Batth, McDonald and Dicko comprising our spine, I’m as relaxed today as I was with my Kindle in Spain last week.