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Monday 2nd January 2006

I was just saying that I might not write this every day. Not that I was stopping altogether. Look here I am writing today. I am just giving myself the option of having a day off every now and again. So don't panic now.

Being a York City supporter is a tiresome thing to be. Not that I am a very serious one (I have never seen them play), but I follow them on Ceefax or on the internet. After the heady heights of beating Man United 3-0 at Old Trafford in the 1990s we (and I still call me and them "we" because I am one of them, even though I do nothing to contribute) now find ourselves in the Conference. We had a rubbish season last year, nearly going down, but this year things started well and we were in the top two and looking at promotion. And we still would be except for the fact that we're had about seven or eight games that we were winning or drawing where we let in a goal in the last three minutes and ruined everything.
Today I was following our game with Scarborough on the BBC website as I prepared to go out for a run. What with one thing and another and despite it being a new year I managed to prevaricate and stayed in the house til the end of the game. And things were looking good. We were 2-1 up and Scarborough had had a man sent off. The ninety minutes was well over, but even though I clicked the refresh button every ten seconds the full time sign did not come up. Surely the game must be over. Surely York City hadn't blown it again. I had already worked out where these three points would leave us in the table.
But of course I shouldn't have been so presumptuous. Scarborough had equalised in the fifth minute of extra time with the last kick of the game. Whoever said "York City are magic" was clearly a fool.
Of course as a true fan (who never goes to any of the games - though I did watch Cheddar lose to Wells after Christmas, which is almost the same) I don't go the easy route of just supporting Chelsea (or whoever else is winning all the time). I support the team that was the closest to my place of birth (I only moved to Cheddar when I was 8 and am in fact a Yorkshireman) no matter how crap they are or how badly they are doing.
But even though I am nothing more than a casual observer, more interested in the statistics than the football itself I was gutted that my brave lads didn't hold on for the win that would have projected them towards a play off place. I went for my run with a heavy heart, which was a pain as I already had a heavy body to lug around. Not for much longer. In fact I only have to get a tiny bit fitter and I'll be eligible for the York City squad. The useless KitKat guzzling idiots.
See some days it really would be better to write nothing at all.

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