The first York City match I attended as a lad was 19 years ago. Old Division Two against the mighty Blackpool, who have graced the Premier League since. We won 1-0.
I have had special moments supporting my local team, and wouldn’t change them for the world. Trips to Wembley certainly resonate fondly in the memory.
But when I think of low points as a doting City fan, I always return to 2010 and an away trip to Grays Athletic.
Ironically, on that icy night on the outskirts of London, we won 4-0. But I cannot shirk the memory I had that night on the train.
I remember asking myself: “How on earth has it come to this? I’m on my way to Grays.”
It was a bizarre sensation, and one that made me laugh. To be fair, I was getting used to it. Another sobering moment was our away trip to Ebbsfleet United. I asked for the nearest cash machine in a local shop, and was advised that platform 2 would take me to Gravesend.
As the weekend fixtures fast approach, I find myself overwhelmed by a similar disenchantment.
We may be just five games in, however there is a dreadful sense that York may be about to face their second relegation battle in two years. They sit 18th. Considering they lost the last and fell out the Football League, the concept sits uncomfortably in the pit of my stomach.
Bit like a Bootham Crescent pie.
I mean, how have we returned to this? That moment of elation when York returned to the league feels a far cry from where we find ourselves now.
I was in a Canterbury car park when the winning goal went in that day. I remember smashing the dashboard of my friend’s car. He had locked me in to listen nervously on the radio. Magical moments have occurred and I am grateful for them.
In the modern era, Jackie McNamara (or Sackie as we like to call him in my family optimistically) has not helped.
Anyone who has ever played Football Manager (or Championship Manager to those of us greying more rapidly), know that he found himself with the absolute dream scenario this summer. A new league, and a clean slate on which to build an empire.
He didn’t.
It swiftly became apparent that he did not have the dressing room. The captain left, scoffing at Jackie’s offer of a new contract. The Player of the Season followed suit, dropping another league to get away. As for the press release when Michael Coulson pre-signed for St. Johnstone? It was cutting, which in my book is unprofessional. He was a club legend and left under a cloud.
The 6-1 away loss to Gateshead was one of the saddest things I have seen, arguably, in my 19 years supporting York. Granted, it was always going to strike a chord with me. Based in Sunderland this year, my home being humbled in the North East was always going to hurt.
So where next for York? Last week we saw a 96th minute goal after the captain had been sent off at Forest Green. It’s a real City trademark that, unerring ineptitude in defending during injury time.
That afternoon in 1997 feels a lifetime ago. Watching on wide-eyed at the likes of legendary Rodney Rowe cruising past defenders without a second thought in the third tier of English football.
But the current footballing climate is unforgiving and we are struggling. We have financial difficulties, stadium complications and a squad straight out the scrap yard. The catastrophic hat-trick.
If this doesn’t change soon, I worry for our future.
Alastair Ross - Grim up North 