Yesterday out of nowhere the clouds parted and the real truth dawned. If you judge a season by the rule of achievement versus expectation then I can climb up on a rock and defiantly declare that in 40 years of watching Wednesday this is the most disappointed and let down that I have ever felt.

Over those forty years yes we’ve seen some rubbish, we’ve wasted money on big time charlies who only came for the dollar and massively underachieved, we’ve had a roster of managers who did their best against a background of underfunding and misplaced ambition from comedy chairmen, and yes we’ve even been a matter of hours away from going under. But this season? Bloody hell.

Once again Twitter yesterday took on a life of its own, the misery levels around what even seasoned journalists are describing as “a shambles of a season” reaching even higher heights with claims that the “Medical Team” aren’t even qualified in their work. As someone pointed out that may well be complete fantasy but the fact is that in the current climate people find it easy to believe owt.

And just to give things a final bitter twist, our ex-Manager goes from strength to strength saving the skin of a team we were sure we’d welcome to the Championship next season. To compound this further CC has become this year’s media darling, handing out home-made Portuguese buns at his press conferences and blessing the assembled multitude with his Cantona-esque mutterings about throwing everything onto to the barbeque. I rubbed my hands together when the fifth round draw came out but now I’ve just got my hands over my eyes.

Mix into that the ridiculous questionnaire that came out the other week (“Tick here if you want to pay less money and watch shite” – er, hold my pint) and that sense that the Wednesday Boardroom is like that scene in Carry on up The Khyber where the house is under bombardment and everyone carries on eating dinner as if nothing is wrong is overpowering.

And speaking of film analogies, Jos Luhukay must be wondering what he has got himself into, bringing to mind that scene in Damage (and splendidly replicated in French and Saunders) where Kathy Bates says to the tied-up captive “I’ve done the best I can with those legs”. Jos keeps on gamely saying we just have to get on with it but always inevitably prefaced with the words “I’ve never known anything like it”.

The injury stuff is the bad gift that keeps on giving – Steven “you’ll pay me how much?” Fletcher out for the season and a deeply troubling rumour on social media that Keiran Lee’s career is over following more extensive work being needed on his hip. The whole injury list/medical team issue remains (pardon the pun) a festering sore which the club’s hierarchy are not really managing to get a bandage on.

And then there is the team selection. We all know that Luhukay has pretty much nothing to play with but what the chuff is going on with the ongoing gob-smacking omission of Jordan Rhodes? In his excellent piece in Friday’s Star Chris Holt noted that Jordan Rhodes is at a crossroads in his career. Except than one of the roads going off it appears to have a roadblock set up. Not sure whether he’s thrown a mardy fit because he didn’t get transferred and got sent to the naughty step? Otherwise I remain at a loss to see how we all seem to be living in a parallel universe where Nuhiu and Joao continue to lead the line.   

Any light peeping through the clouds? I have to say I still can’t see us getting relegated, even though the cast-iron defence that JL seemed to immediately contribute seems to have gone a bit rusty. The Rhodes issue notwithstanding the troops he is throwing in (including a fair number from the Cadet core) are trying their hardest to get us through this, and ultimately we’ll surely just about have enough (mind you I can remember a few times in the past where we’ve said that and been proved massively wrong).

Steve Walmsley of this parish keeps gamely sending open letters to Mr Chansiri but as far as I’m aware has had no reply as yet. Peeping through our fingers we see our New Chief Executive, FFP, and our rapidly ageing squad and continue to hold our breath. We were overjoyed when Milan sold us on to DC and for 18 months or so it seemed that we had no need to look down. Now it’s all going  spectacularly wrong we look to the hierarchy to hold up a beacon that we can all get behind. But at the moment they just seem like rabbits in the headlights.

So, when all of those butterflies soared out of Pandora’s box, what was left? Hope. And that hope comes in the shape of us – the long suffering but passionate, loyal and unbending Wednesdayites. We know that we have to keep asking the questions that we do, and of course speaking as we find, but at the end of the day the one thing that never changes, that is always constant is the heroes in the stands with their unstinting love for the club. We need to accept that it’s down to us to get the team over the line, roar them through to the close season and then see what the Summer brings. We need to be the twelfth man that never gets brought down by our injuries.

Sing your hearts out on Tuesday night.