I’ve seen York away on a Tuesday night. It was in the heady days of a 17 game unbeaten run – some younger fans may even look at this as a golden age; which is a terrifying prospect.
By happy coincidence I was in Harrogate for an exhibition. I had fish and chips from a shop that appeared to be an extension of someone’s front room. I thought myself somewhat of a pioneer; a stranger in a strange land.
I had assumed that aside from a handful of hardened regulars, a couple of local exiles and one or two, like me, there through happenstance that we would smatter across the away terrace like sulking children in a school playground. But no, we were there in force, on a Tuesday in York.
We were pretty poor but escaped with a draw when Chris Hackett stole into score with a couple of minutes to go.
Things are different now though, we’re 40 odd places further down the league, the crowd has dropped by two thirds. But, in what has become a meaningless procession towards the beach a win is a win. It might be fair to conclude that the core of a decent squad is in place, but the depth needs building throughout the summer. Good season next year? Can we even dare to hope.