There’s always at least one moment in a season with AFC Wimbledon where I find myself gripped with abject terror.

For particularly harrowing seasons, such as 2012-13, there can be several, but for the most part it’s just the one.

Something happens that gives me terrible visions of an unfolding timeline where the absolute worst happens.

My moment of terror for 2014-15 happened last Saturday.

Not because of the result. It’s Shrewsbury, they’re top of the league for a reason. I would’ve been thrilled with a draw. So, not bothered by the 2-0 scoreline.

No, my moment of terror filled the five or so minutes where play was suspended. Because something had happened to James Shea.

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No one knew what happened. Mike T and Rob Cornell didn’t know. There was a collision, and Shea didn’t get up.

He persisted in the whole not-getting-up thing well past the point where it stopped being funny.

Then the stretchers came, and it felt like the world threatened to fall away for a moment.

Partly because Shea has been a tremendous addition to the first team - if he isn’t the best keeper in the division, he’s at least making the conversation lively.

But mostly it’s because life near the bottom of the Football League is just that tenuous.

One minute you’re flying high, you’re pushing up the table, you’re in the third round of the cup against Premier League opposition.

Then you lose your top goalscorer. Then several key squad members. Then your captain leaves. Then you find yourself, through injury or suspension, down to one centreback. Then, for a moment, you may have lost your keeper.

We’re still closer to the play-offs than the drop. But things can change very quickly in League Two.

The cliff is closer than you think.