This game, as Leeds asserted themselves as they should, was like a steady sesh on serotonin, a football match like a pub garden one spring lunchtime when it feels like things are going right for a while.
A few hours of distraction for the fans, some exercise for the players, Saturday afternoon ended and Saturday evening began.
Leeds United and Wolves are becoming one of those historic battle reenactment societies, getting together once a year to dress up and go crazy on the memories of the good old bad old days. Which is, 135 years after the Football League was founded, basically what football is now anyway.
A year since they sacked Bielsa to 'accelerate the coaching transition', Leeds can no longer be protagonists in their own stadium against Brighton, who used their head coach's walkout in September to make their team even better.
It might make for some grim football, but Leeds look grimly determined to stay in games, less willing to throw them away. And yet, they do.
The logic is that variety is the spice of life, and what would be the point of an array of identical strikers? But Leeds would be really blessed if all their forward options had one thing in common: they could score lots of goals.
It was like watching one of those movies where you see things from the ghost's point of view, waving their arms and passing their hands through people who don't know that they're there.
Just about the only player I saw really standing up to the needs of the occasion was Junior Firpo, who seems to finally have the conditions he needs to shine for Leeds: a team playing badly around him.
After torrid months since August trying to decipher what Jesse Marsch thought this team could be, since he's been gone we have found out that it can be a good one.
A key phrase of Angus Kinnear's programme notes, introducing Jesse Marsch last year, said Marsch was coming earlier than planned as part of 'the acceleration of the coaching transition', post-Bielsa. Later than planned, Leeds might have finally made a start.