The last thee matches has seen the good, the bad and the indifferent from the Canaries.
I'll deal with them in order.
Plymouth away just over a couple of weeks ago. Absolutely superb. A masterclass in attacking football from Norwich where they created an abundance of goal-scoring chances and put a considerably inferior team to the sword in a manner that any side harbouring hopes of a successful campaign ultimately should.
We'll ignore the ridiculously narrow 2-1 scoreline for the time being an account that debating City's short-comings in front of goal this season would take an eternity and has already been well-documented anyway.
Because other than that, City couldn't be faulted at all.
Now for the bad. Because for some perplexing reason the very same players that had treated the 500 or so hearty souls who had made the 700-mile round trip to Plymouth purr with delight for 90 minutes at Home Park took on the appearance of a side that was devoid of any ideas and creativity in the very next match.
Against an admittedly very strong, physically robust and well-organised QPR side, Norwich drew a blank in more ways than one. And the fact that the visitor's goalkeeper didn't have to pick the ball out of his net was immaterial really given that he was more or less given the night off.
City huffed and puffed, but without any natural width in the side and a recurring and annoying tendency to try to thread the ball through the eye of a needle when it was painfully obvious that the only thing that the man in possession would have been able to see when he looked ahead of him was a wall of blue and white hoops, barring something of a freakish nature occurring or a downright fluke riding to City's rescue they were never going to seriously threaten the visitor's goalmouth.
From one extreme to the other really.
Brilliant at Plymouth, but then decidedly uninspiring against QPR.
Then came the visit of Sheffield United at the weekend, and – despite results and league position suggesting otherwise to the neutral observer – an opportunity for the Canaries to try to recapture the form that has generally seen them impress in the majority of their matches this season.
And for 25 minutes at the start of the contest Norwich did indeed appear to be back in the groove.
Glenn Roeder had made changes to the starting line up. Some had been enforced due to injury, but others were based on the display of three days earlier and accordingly a warning that no-one could expect to be picked other than on merit.
Out went Hoolahan and Lupoli, and, amongst others, in came Croft and Otsemobor. And, boy, did it show.
Croft and Otsemobor dominated on the right flank and were evidently City's best hope of crafting a goal.
But then midway thorough the first-half and as if on cue, the rug was pulled from under the Canaries and for the next hour or so we bore witness to a general indifference on the part of both sides.
The honesty, toil and sweat remained just as it should always do in a professional outfit. Of that there is no denying
There was even an occasional tasty tackle and the determination to compete and win the game remained as prevalent as it had been when City were operating at full tilt in the opening stages of the contest.
Unfortunately though any moments of genuine quality had long since disappeared over the horizon, and when Croft grabbed the winner in injury time it meant that Carrow Road exploded more with relief than anything else, because it had so nearly become another case of nearly but not quite yet again.
But at least it was a win for Norwich, which, in fairness, had been richly deserved on other occasions this season but basically denied to them owing to a lack of a killer instinct and ability to deliver the final touch in front of goal.
So it's been a whole range of emotions for City fans recently.
Firstly decidedly upbeat and optimistic? Then precisely the opposite? And now so-so.
Could be a long old season.
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