A word of advice before the drunkenness fades and the pragmatism of the promotion race sets back in – step back, and appreciate just how good it was to be a Wanderer on Saturday evening.

To a man, woman or child, the 1,700 stayed behind to applaud a win that will surely be remembered with the same fondness in time as the last occasion Bolton won 5-0 away from home – the day in 2001 that Big Sam’s side announced themselves to the Premier League in a shower of Filbert Street fireworks.

They serenaded the heroes – Dion Charles, who became the first player in 35 years to score a hat-trick away from home, John Thomas having last done it on the very same ground in 1988.

They poured their love down on Ricardo Santos, the club captain who has battled back from serious illness to return to his imperious best and score his first two goals against his former employers, no less.

And they chanted the name of Ian Evatt, the man who has fashioned this young and exciting team and made supporting Bolton something to be proud of once again.

Within the last six or seven years these same faces spent their money and travelled the miles to watch Bolton ship seven at Accrington and Reading, five at Lincoln, six in Bristol. They saw a team of kids hammered at Tranmere and Gillingham and beaten twice in Gloucestershire within the space of a week. They have travelled every single mile with their team and absolutely deserve a moment to savour.

Five was indeed the number of the day. This was Wanderers’ 5,000th league game and they are the fifth club to make that milestone. Santos, Bolton’s number five, scored the fifth goal, and even managed to get himself booked in the 55th minute.

There may well have been high fives all round in the Lanzarote bar populated by a certain Chris Markham on Saturday afternoon, too. The recruitment chief had taken a well-earned break at the start of what will be his second year at the UniBol, and after iFollow crashed managed to find an establishment serving beer and Wanderers. Lucky man!

We have been talking about this type of result for some time. For the last few seasons we have talked about a hypothetical opponent who would fall foul of the moment that everything clicked for Wanderers. Nobody in their right mind expected it to be Peterborough United.

Darren Ferguson had known nothing but victory in his three games since returning to London Road for a fourth stint as manager. And his attack-heavy team look well capable – even after this demoralising result – to make an assault on the top six.

So often we have complained about Bolton’s lack of cutting edge, the pretty build-up which was so often blurred by the inconsistent finishing. But here, for 90 minutes, almost everything they touched turned to goals.

Posh, quite perversely, did not play terribly. They put 16 shots in on James Trafford’s goal and perhaps only one – a first-half header from Jonson Clarke-Harris – could go down as a glaring miss.

Trafford made some complicated goalkeeping look easy. This writer is running out of superlatives to throw at the Manchester City youngster, so may offer one more written testimony and that is his aura in goal eclipses any Bolton number one since Jussi Jaaskelainen. And if he can get into the Big Finn’s ball park one day, he will have had a marvellous career.

Wanderers spent large portions of the game protecting their own penalty area. Debutant defender Luke Mbete, another Manchester City talent, oozed confidence from the start and looks like another very capable addition.

Eoin Toal and Gethin Jones marshalled the busiest lane of Posh attack – and a word of praise here for the excellent Ephron Mason-Clark, who despite his side getting the proverbial kicking, just kept on ticking.

The timing of Bolton’s goals proved so decisive. The opener, as scrappy a strike as you could possibly wish to find, saw Aaron Morley whip in a free kick from the right, Santos bundle the ball towards goal and then get some sort of deflection on Gethin Jones’s goal-bound shot.

The Bolton captain ran away in celebration, and was awarded the goal by the stadium announcer, but those in the press box needed some convincing. Had Rico really just scored for Bolton?

The first half felt like it was played at manic pace, which was great for the neutral but not necessarily for those who have grown accustomed to Wanderers dictating the tempo of a game. It was a nervous watch at times.

No sooner had Clarke-Harris nodded a great chance wide at the far post than Charles scored his first of the day from the penalty spot.

Shola Shoretire had been practically strangled against Cheltenham, whose deep lying defence showed little inclination to engage. In this sort of chaotic environment, though, he could pick his moments to drop deep into space around the penalty box, and those to run at defenders. On one of the latter occasions, he was tripped by Nathan Thompson and referee Lee Swabey gave a 42nd minute penalty which Morley initially fancied, but Charles rightfully claimed.

His second goal of the day arrived impossibly early in the second half. We had debated the fragility of a two-goal lead at the break, how after only two minutes of football could it have been extended to three?

Gethin Jones was the chief reason. Restored to right wing-back in Conor Bradley’s absence, the vice-captain put in a quite superb display, his cross for the second goal the stand-out highlight.

The three-goal lead had not quite sunk in when a fourth arrived. Mbete stepped forward into midfield to drive Wanderers forward, Charles by now untouchable as he linked play, and after Shoretire collected the ball with back to goal, he was pushed down by Frankie Kent.

Referee Swabey had little doubt, pointing immediately to the spot. Some of the home fans felt it less of an obvious penalty.

Charles wasn’t going to miss a chance for his first Bolton hat-trick. By now he was the cock of the walk.

And as such he joins a list of luminaries which includes Joe Mason, Fredi Bobic, Dean Holdsworth, Nathan Blake, John McGinlay, Andy Walker, Tony Philliskirk, Tony Caldwell, Franny Lee, Ray Parry, Nat Lofthouse, Willie Moir, Joe Smith and many, many more in that 5,000-game archive.

Perhaps it is conditioning but even at 4-0, the sight of Santos picking up a booking as he tripped Clarke-Harris on the edge of the box just made for a slightly uneasy feeling with 30 minutes of the game remaining.

This was one of those rare occasions, however, that Bolton just had it in hand.

And when Morley swung in another cross from the left, flicked on by sub Cameron Jerome, there could not have been a more deserving recipient than Santos, six yards from goal.

Seeing out yet another clean sheet from there was the task Evatt demanded from the touchline. He hadn’t allowed himself any backslapping in the technical area, nor when the final whistle had gone.

Tuesday’s game against MK Dons now takes priority. It would be incredibly sad to think a poor result at the UniBol could render this effort less meaningful.

But Evatt was not for dwelling on the win. Only as he disappeared back down the tunnel did he shoot a satisfied glance that caught this writer’s eye, underlining just how proud he had been to mark the club’s 5,000th game with a win of such magnitude.

There will be time ahead for backslapping and testimonies. But the hard work continues.