On Thursday at 10am, Wolverhampton Wanderers started selling 8,300 tickets for their FA Cup fourth round tie at Anfield. By Saturday lunchtime, they'd all gone.
As ticket sales go, it's hardly a record breaker. After all, Stone Roses once shifted 220,000 concert tickets in 68 minutes.
But the speed with which those 8,300 tickets to Liverpool were snapped up tells you so much about the life, the aspiration, and frequent despair of a 21st Century Wolves fan.
My first visit to Molineux was in February 1977 - 40 years ago next month. Then, as now, Wolves were in the second tier of English football. Then, Sammy Chung's team were heading towards promotion. Now, Paul Lambert's team seem a long way short of Premier League football.
We can definitely sense progress after a bemusing six months which brought a Chinese takeover, a host of foreign imports and an Italian manager. Apart from a great win at Birmingham and a stunning victory on Tyneside, it appeared mostly chaotic.
As ticket sales go, it's hardly a record breaker. After all, Stone Roses once shifted 220,000 concert tickets in 68 minutes.
But the speed with which those 8,300 tickets to Liverpool were snapped up tells you so much about the life, the aspiration, and frequent despair of a 21st Century Wolves fan.
My first visit to Molineux was in February 1977 - 40 years ago next month. Then, as now, Wolves were in the second tier of English football. Then, Sammy Chung's team were heading towards promotion. Now, Paul Lambert's team seem a long way short of Premier League football.
We can definitely sense progress after a bemusing six months which brought a Chinese takeover, a host of foreign imports and an Italian manager. Apart from a great win at Birmingham and a stunning victory on Tyneside, it appeared mostly chaotic.
Probably because it was.
And the pre-season excitement had evaporated. We knew Newcastle and Brighton would be the teams to beat but we thought we'd be contenders. We're not. We’re 18th.
Wolves fans yearn for a return to Old Trafford, Stamford Bridge, the Emirates, the Etihad, even the Hawthorns. And the arrival of Fosun's fortunes even made us consider the prospect that one day (soonish) we could not only march upon these Premier League theatres - but compete.
It doesn't look like it will happen any time soon, but out of nowhere the 2016/17 FA Cup has delivered excitement and pride, a return to the big time.
Wolves have won the old trophy four times, most 'recently' in 1960. All I can cling to in my Wolves life are three semi finals - two defeats to Arsenal and one to Spurs.
But having accounted for Stoke City (not Stoke City reserves but Stoke City) in round three, Wolves secured another trip to Liverpool. More than 4,500 Wolves fans went to Stoke. It was a great day. Loud and proud. Not just because we won. It mattered because we were back on a Premier League stage.
It felt like this was where we belong, even though it’s not where we belong. We have to accept the league table never lies.
In the 1950s, Wolves were a dominant force in English football, and European football for that matter. A club, built on working class roots, delivering huge civic and community pride.
When I started following the club my dad grew up supporting, paying 50p to stand on an orange plastic milk crate so I could see on the South Bank, the modern day equivalent of 1950s Wolves were unquestionably Liverpool - with Keegan, then Dalglish.
There was a palpable sense of excitement each time Wolves played Liverpool as I was growing up. That feeling lives to this day.
Travelling to Anfield in January 1984 to see bottom of the table Wolves beat top of the table Liverpool thanks to Steve Mardenborough will probably always be my favourite away trip (I don't count the play-off final in 2003 as an away game).
There are great Molineux memories for me of Wolves v Liverpool too. A 4-1 Wolves win in 1980. That’s right - a 4-1 win. And an opening day penalty in 1983 from Geoff Palmer to give Wolves the lead before Ian Rush did what Ian Rush did with unerring frequency.
Wolves, the club that my heart says is great, playing Liverpool, the club that my head says is great.
Old Trafford has the size advantage, but in the words of a famous old sign, This is Anfield. For me, with its atmosphere and heritage, it’s the best football venue in England.
And at 1225 on Saturday out will run my Wolves. The roar from the away end will be deafening. It won't eclipse You’ll Never Walk Alone, but Anfield will know Wolves are in town. And with Chelsea arriving on Merseyside three days later, it’s pretty unlikely that Jürgen Klopp will field a Premier XI.
So 8,300 vociferous Wolves fans, and many thousands back home in the Black Country, will carry hope in their hearts, however small. Indeed a repeat of the terrific performance at Stoke should cause Liverpool some problems.
But, for me, this match isn’t just about who reaches the next round of the cup. This is Wolves against Liverpool. My team against the team I grew up admiring so much. A fixture that creates so many wonderful, nostalgic memories for this Wolves fan.
A fixture that I wish had happened so many more times in my lifetime. And a fixture that I crave twice a season. Every season.
Maybe one day.
