It is very difficult to judge the mood of a Norfolk Nation – or rather, a Canary Nation – from just one, pre-season friendly.
Albeit one watched by 13,000 people eight days into the summer holidays.
And nor can any conclusions ever really be drawn from the result. What does a 1-1 draw with a bunch of Old Trafford kids actually mean in the grander scheme of things? That the Canaries are about to rip League One to pieces on the basis that they didn't get ripped apart by Sir Alex's 2009 babes?
It is why most tend to reserve judgement on the prospects for any season until the new campaign is ten games; somewhere in the middle of September by when the summer transfer window will have slammed firmly shut and the odd, Premiership loan might have arrived.
By then you can usually gauge a 'mood'; a feeling about the place; where this might all be head.
But, for me, that probably does the manager of Norwich City Football Club few favours. And nor does it give the new chief executive much credit, either.
Because – thus far – it's been quite a summer for Messrs Gunn and McNally. To my mind, they've both delivered.
Now, here comes the big proviso. Because all they have delivered is a squad on paper. Not one that's been put into practice.
And that's a big point.
Right now, the credit is due only for what they have managed to gather together on paper; the proof comes in the pudding of Yeovil (a) – a first round Carling Cup tie that will do much to determine whether or not a little drop of summer optimism will survive much beyond the first falling leaves of autumn.
But I think there is a drop of hope there…
In part, that ought to be prompted by the manner in which Gunn and McNally have bolted together most of the bits they need this season a good two weeks before the start of the season.
And that is no mean feat.
Look back over seasons past and most have been a shambles squad-wise; there has either been one, big missing piece to the jigsaw – 'big' being the operative word in that the 'missing' piece invariably revolves around either a missing six-foot centre-forward or a similarly well-built centre-half – or else one, key piece of the jigsaw proves to be a running sore as he itches to get away.
And let's everyone know that he wants-away, too. Or at least, he does inside the dressing room. Which is what matters. What anyone says to the outside world is all-but irrelevant; the chemistry that is going to get Norwich out of this sorry division at the first time of asking has to be right deep within the very bowels of Colney.
This last thing anyone needs is a sore a*se deep in those nether regions.
With Sammy Clingan gone and Darel Russell seemingly at something of an arm's length from the first team playing squad, Gunn appears to have insulated himself from the kind of dark cloud that Damien Francis brought to the party.
The other trick, of course, that he has managed to pull off is to bring in nine boys on full-time contracts; therefore, he is not waiting until the third week in August to discover which Premiership wannabe he's going to be asking to get his tender hands dirty away at Yeovil, Exeter, etc..
He hasn't gone for show ponies; he's gone for good, honest work-horses. Or, at least, that's what they say on the side of the tin. There's not too much by way of show or pony to Michael Nelson; likewise Matt Gill. They seem solid, decent lads. Just the type to dig you out of trouble away at St James' Park.
There is another point to recent events which ought to spark a little optimism.
And that's luck. Which, traditionally, tends to sort the wheat from the chaff management-wise. Not over time; that's when quality will out.
But in those first few months when the ground beneath your feet is still shaky, that's when you need Lady Luck to smile. And I think it has.
Not in the arrival of Grant Holt. That was down to dogged persistence, a good 'sell' and a refusal to take 'No!' for answer…. That's just good business getting someone of his ilk in two weeks before the action starts.
No, the luck might be Master Adeyemi.
Messrs Spillane and Martin apart, for all the bits and bobs that have popped out of City's Youth Academy over recent years, none have ticked quite as many boxes as the 17-year-old midfield prospect.
Boxes in terms of what it actually takes to be a modern-day footballer these days; particularly one that plays in that central midfield position; one that has designs on being a Frank Lampard or a Stevie G.
To have someone with his frame, his physique, his brain and his style of play emerge out of the Colney woodwork in your very hour of need is, to my mind, luck.
Not in every sense; there are years of careful nurturing behind Adeyemi's arrival on Saturday; that's not luck.
But if I am Bryan Gunn and I see the way that that kid has come on leaps and bounds over the course of the summer break – added inches of muscle to that upper torso and all with his natural eye-for-goal still intact – I'd be offering a silent prayer of thanks.
The chances are that the Tom Adeyemis of this world don't come around that often; not in this neck of the woods. Norwich, traditionally, do Robert Eagles. Little kids with big hearts; who play wide left and never really run a game the way that this teenager can.
And he arrives on my 'watch' as manager… Not Granty's; not Glenn's. Both of whom looked to Mark Fotheringham to set a tempo; dictate play. No, Adeyemi rolls up on my watch when I've already got a Gill, a Hughes or a Tudur Jones to mind him…