Stan knew that it had been a topsy-turvy day when he heard the announcement that Dejan Stafanovic had been named man-of-the-match.
Not that The General had a stinker. But he had just conceded our seventh penalty in 13 games, almost doomed us to a humiliating defeat and, just for good measure, hit one of the most wayward shots towards the River End since Greg Downs used to try his luck in the early 1980s.
Somehow, out of such calamity, the big man walked away with a bottle of champagne and a pat on the back from the match sponsor. Topsy-turvy.
Of course, the clue to all things up being down and all things down being up had been sewn sometime earlier. Us beating Wolves for a start.
Now, Stan loves his football club, but he cannot for the life of him understand how Neil Adams and Glenn Roader could have seen that coming. No-one else did.
This season has been stuttering, largely goal-less, and overcast with a deep and gloomy financial black cloud.
Yet, there we have it – the league leaders were blown away and a faltering team were swiftly heralded as title contenders in waiting. Bonkers.
And then came Doncaster. ManCity Andrew had already predicted an 'after the Lord Mayor's show…' occasion, and Stan felt the same.
Norwich had slayed the Wolves, Doncaster had not won for however long, and expectations were high.
As Stan took his place in the Barclay he heard punters arguing about whether to bet 4-0 or 5-0. What followed was, initially at least, far more predictable than topsy-turvy: both teams vied for who could way-lay the most passes; the newly proclaimed 'goal-hungry champions in waiting' were held at bay; and then the supposed relegation fodder took the lead from yet another spot-kick.
The topsy-turvy bit was therefore reserved less for our inability to play well for two games running and more for the fact that we managed to turn a turgid afternoon into a carnival with a late hurrah that bagged us all three points.
This time the world was turned on its head by a bizarre-but-brilliantly-taken goal from Siebieski, heading in from the most sliced left-footed shot since Louie Donowa used to cut in and blast them in the early 1980s.
This, in turn, paved the way for Leroy Lita to usurp the crown of 'the-man-we-most-want-to-be-at Carrow-Road' from a still missed Martin Taylor. Great stuff.
So what does it all mean? Are the planets re-aligning? Have the gods decided that our luck is about to change? Has Leroy been on the phone to Hucks and been told that the Norwich experience is not about money – it's about the love and the fact that you can live in God's own country and city?
Without doubt, it was the best comeback by Norwich against Doncaster Rovers since – you guessed it – Ross Jack and Dave Watson saved our skins in the early 1980s.
It was also a much needed result that damned one of our main rivals in the relegation dog-pit and sent us into battle against Derby knowing that we do have the capacity to win when we play poorly.
Other than that, the common tendency in football to see every game as decisive and to judge every team on the last game played should not cloud our perspective.
We continue to stutter and splutter on the field; our financial future looks bleak; and most of our loanees will disappear in January to leave a thin and lightweight squad with the job of saving us from the abyss.
Maybe, just maybe, two wins on the bounce will help the side gel into cohesive unit and allow our eyes to look upwards rather than down. But anyone claiming that this week is the beginning of a bright new future should think twice.
An optimist in Norfolk? Now that really would be topsy-turvy.