Well, one thing's for sure: this season will not be for the faint hearted.
Against Southampton, we saw defensive howlers and full-on commitment; a keeper with butter-fingers and some clinical finishing; a first-half of mediocrity and a second-half of fight, spirit and some invention.
Indeed, those second 45 minutes were among the most exciting Stan has seen at Carrow Road in recent seasons; and the fact that the spoils went our way only added to the drama.
We can but hope that the return of Hucks will simply add to such fun and games – while chewing our fingernails down to the bone whenever the opposition looks up and thinks: 'Right, let's head for the heart of that defence…'
Early days, I know, and excuse the clich?, but Stan thinks we are in for a roller-coaster ride.
First things first: Saf. Stan thought the negative reception fair enough, although the poor thing must have needed a lie down after three games in a week.
Put kindly, he seemed a bit tired judging by the fact that he managed three crippling tackles in the first 20 minutes and should – by rights – have been in the bath (or bed) by 3.30.
More seriously, Stan could properly see 'the problem with Saf' now that he was playing for the 'other side'. He set out to nobble Russell and so tear a hole in our midfield; and this he did to a degree in the first 30 minutes.
But once booked and walking a disciplinary tight-rope, he disappeared. Slowly but surely the midfield became our domain, Russell kept his head, won the battle, and took home the spoils.
Now, how many times did that scenario play out against us in the last two seasons?
But back to all things new in yellow and green. This, like Tuesday, was a game of two halves – only this time we saved the best until last.
Norwich hit the bar but still started slowly; Brellier did his bit but did not look fully fit; what seemed to be a game of two average teams cancelling eachother out in the middle of the pitch tipped in the Saints' favour when our defence opened up and conceded a soft corner.
Marshall then flapped and we were down 0-1. On such moments, a season can turn.
Come the second-half, with Foz on for Brellier, and things began to change. The ball began to find its way out to the wings, and when the prodigal son smacked his free kick into the top corner, Stan knew there was only ever going be one winner.
True enough, Cureton did his party trick, controlling the ball on his chest in the area, bringing it down and drilling it home.
In between, he had had another well saved, and Foz had had a free-kick parried away. We looked good, and even when Foz was carried off and a reshuffle was needed (and neatly applied), we bossed the game until the final whistle and took the points.
Of course Stan has left out one, juicy detail. As a Barclay Boy, he couldn't really see – but Marshall's second-half blooper, when a 'nothing' shot somehow went through him and led to a desperate lunge to rescue his reputation, obviously caused some consternation down the River End.
That it was or was not over the line is for Look East on Monday night. All Stan can say is that His Lord God Drinkell was smiling on us and the game carried on as though nothing had happened. The luck of Scots, perhaps?
As it is, Team Grant continues to be short of a couple of pieces.
Once again, we lacked a little flair until Croft and Foz teamed up, and the defence still needs a steady head in the middle of it. But the fight and desire is there.
These are players who seem to care and want to be here. On such a premise are successful teams built. Early day, though, early days ?