So picture the scene…
…Kenny Jackett masterminds a late push into the play-offs courtesy of some scintillating counter attacking football.
Sako mesmerises, Afobe dispatches and van la Parra progresses in equal measure as we elbow our way into the reckoning, overcoming Middlesbrough over two grueling battle royales.
With nerves frayed and fingernails chewed, we are within a coat of paint of beating Bournemouth in normal time at a sunshine baked Wembley Stadium.
But we lose in a five goal thriller through a deflected Harry Arter shot in extra time – Peter Beagrie lauding the best play-off final since 1993.
Amid teary eyes, Sako departs, Afobe’s head turns to WBA and van la Parra frustrates. Dicko meanwhile, becomes disillusioned.
Kenny Jackett then starts the 2015/16 Championship season in much the same way Solbakken did in 2012/13 – with one arm tied behind his back.
Is anyone to blame?
Would this not just be a depressing by-product of a once Beautiful Game, where long-term planning documents are chewed up and spat out by that ravenous, vulgar league above.
Would it not just be bad luck on Wolves’ part? An emotion-laden storyline for Morgan and Moxey to garner a bit of sympathy from when the going gets inevitably tough?
Lessons would be learned of course. Kenny wouldn’t get the sack when we’re 15th in the Championship at Christmas because the chairman knew his constraints too well.
We would build again. Iorfa and Hause would play 80 games between them, Batth and Price would become focal and who knows, Boukari might be injury free for a while, in the most unlikely Sako imitation act imaginable.
Some more young bucks would be blooded and by the end of the season, a play-off tilt might just become possible for 2016/17.
Do you buy this vision and more to the point, is there even an alternative to think of? We had so much fun in League One last season that it’s all pretty relative anyway, isn’t it?
Without a sugar daddy prepared to throw big bucks to make that Promised Land plausible, this is surely how it’s going to be from now on.
Aspiration is arbitrary these days and like those fans clamouring for a terrace from where to view it all, times change.
That we had the chance to rewrite this script from 2009 to 2012 adds to the pain, but that’s showbiz folks.
With no other scenario available, we surely embrace this hypothetical grudgingly and keep buying our tickets, even if the cyclical mingles with the Groundhog.
On the otherhand, we actually win the play-offs and get ourselves promoted!
Like that lick of paint scenario I conjure in the Wembley five-goal thriller, it’s a fine line.