The irony will not be lost on 20,000 Wolves fans who will file into Molineux on Sunday with hope in our hearts, but fear and trepidation in our heads.
In the one dugout will be the manager who presided over a Wolves promotion capitulation in 2002.
And in the other will be the boss surely increasingly anxious not to follow his example.
It's official - Wolves have reached "rock bottom".
So says Mick McCarthy in an interview on the official club website which is headlined: "The Only Way Is Up."
All this from a club who still sit on top of the Championship in the race for Premier League football. Don't they say the league table never lies?
Well this one does.
Wolves have won once in nine games, and there is a rational argument for saying we haven't played well since thumping Sheffield United at the end of November.
And next up is Jones' Cardiff side who are unbeaten in 11, and presumably determined to ratchet up the apprehension currently hanging like a dark cloud over Molineux.
Apprehension breeds frustration, and that leads to anger - and that's a familiar scenario for those of us who've followed Wolves for the last 30 years.
The nationwide view of Wolves fans is probably a fickle band of moaners. But I don't buy that. We are passionate - but have become accustomed to despair.
Betrayal is a strong word, maybe too strong. But even when we ended 19 years of hurt to reach the Premier League in 2003, we were let down by a club not brave enough to spend the money that would have kept us up.
Our dream withered and died. We needed some Premier League class - we got Silas, Isaac Okoronkwo and Oleg Luzhny.
There's probably something in the psychological make-up of a Wolves fan that anticipates pain and heartbreak - but in our defence it's happened so often in the past.
However, McCarthy's Wolves, up until Christmas at any rate, had been different. Once the club hierarchy cottoned on to what the fans had known for years - that Molineux was absolutely crying out for young, hungry footballers - we came to embrace a new generation that we backed to the absolute hilt.
Not even a 6-0 hammering at the hands of Southampton would stop us giving our new Wolves a standing ovation.
We believed in them, and they delivered - and McCarthy was "Super Mick".
But after a series of poor results since November, and increasingly desperate performances, the pressure is massively on.
These young starlets have been rewarded for their efforts over the last two and a half seasons, and Premier League managers have cast envious glances at Michael Kightly, Sylvan Ebanks-Blake and Wayne Hennessey.
Now our big players have absolutely got to stand up and be counted on Sunday.
But the man who holds the key to Wolves' ambitions over the next three months has to be the manager.
For the last three away games, he's combined Karl Henry and on-loan Nigel Quashie in the heart of midfield - and we've lost all three.
And I was left bemused after the "rock bottom" performance at Burnley last Saturday, listening to McCarthy pondering whether he was setting up his team with too much emphasis on attack.
Well a midfield without David Jones and/or David Edwards does not suggest huge attacking intent to me or, I venture to suggest, thousands of other Wolves fans.
We should be celebrating Wolves being top of the league, and embracing the excitement. Wolves fans shouldn't be turning on honest players like Neill Collins and Andy Keogh.
But that's where Wolves are at. It's a real shame - and it requires a massive performance on the field, and in the stands, on Sunday.
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