A lot happened over that festive season. Just before Christmas my other half seemed to develop a low-grade stomach bug that ruined her enjoyment of my company’s party and Christmas Day itself. We had no idea what could be causing it until one of my aunts, in her trademark blunt manner, suggested that she could be pregnant. The aunt was right: a test confirmed this diagnosis between Christmas and New Year. I was going to be a father. I was elated and terrified in equal measure.

 We spent the New Year with relatives in the Borders region of Scotland. It wasn’t as remarkable for the arrival of a new millennium as for the fact that half the people at the party were suffering from a rotten flu virus. With my wife still suffering from morning sickness, it was something of a subdued affair. I did my best to keep in with the spirit of things, however, and didn’t protest too much when offered yet more alcohol by my host on the first morning of the New Year. When in Rome, do as the Romans do; when in Scotland, get shit-faced.

 It was mid-January before the Premier League recommenced, but before that we had the traditional excitement of the FA Cup third round and the arrival of the top-flight teams. It didn’t provide much cheer with an embarrassing exit at the hands of Wrexham. If there’s any consolation to be gained from the fact that we were considered giants on the recevieng end of a giant-killing, it was ridiculously scant. Our reputation for good cup runs suffered even more with a fifth round defeat at the hands of Tranmere Rovers.

 Still, there was the league to play for; at least we had to ensure we’d still be in the Premiership next season. The change in century and millennium didn’t affect the customary New Year crapness, and an abject 4-1 home defeat to Derby County set the scene. We lost to Leicester, Manchester United and drew 0-0 with Liverpool before we were subjected to another awful home display. Aston Villa came to the Riverside on St. Valentine’s Day and obviously felt in the mood to recreate a massacre. Boro were destroyed 4-0 and Gazza found himself sent off and injured at the same time after a reckless forearm smash to the rock-hard face of Villa’s George Boateng. He broke his forearm and wouldn’t play for Boro again.

 Just as the fans were starting to question Bryan Robson’s continued tenure as manager, the team was magically stung into action. A seven-game unbeaten run ensued, starting with a 2-0 win over Coventry. Draws with Leeds and Southampton preceded a rarest of rare gems: a home win against Arsenal. Boro played out of their skins to emerge with a 2-1 victory and prompted the inevitable, “Why can’t they play like that every time?” questions.

 A Zeige goal helped us gain a point at Sunderland and a young, red-haired whippet of a lad from the youth team called Andy Campbell scored the winner against Wednesday at home. At the beginning of April we travelled down to White Hart Lane and let Ricard loose against a Spurs defence who seemed to freeze every time he played against them. That 3-2 win in the capital marked the end of the good run.

 April marked another change in my own life. The daily commute to Leeds was becoming tiresome, so we had decided to sell our house in Ingelby Barwick and move to Thirsk. It was decided that this was a good, central location in the region and was also closer to the in-laws, who would come in useful once the baby was born.

 I missed the next midweek home game because I had to attend a team-building event with work colleagues. It was as dreadful as it sounds. My father took my ticket and went along to watch with my wife, and had to sit on his hands through an incredible game that finished 4-3 to Manchester United. I saw the goals on TV later and was slightly gutted that I’d missed it, despite the end result.

 The season was once again coming to a close. Safety from relegation was all but certain by the middle of April, but there seemed to be little chance of a top-half finish this season, despite a similar haul of points. There was an away defeat to Coventry and then a 1-1 draw at Chelsea before Brian Deane’s penalty proved enough to earn maximum points against West Ham at home.

 May began with another frustrating 2-2 draw with the black and white mob from up the road, with Juninho and Festa getting our goals. The young Robbie Stockdale earned a point at home to already-relegated Watford before Brian Deane and Juninho scored the goals that put a nice gloss to the end of the season with a 2-0 victory over the blue half of Merseyside at Goodison Park.

 It was, overall, a pretty unremarkable season. A twelfth place finish (just behind Newcastle on goal difference) wasn’t terrible, but there had been no improvement over the previous season, despite early optimism and decent performances. Consistency seemed to be the issue with the team; one week we were beating Arsenal, the next we were being thrashed by the likes of Derby County. The spine of a decent team were there, and it was hoped that we could hold onto this and maybe add a few more star signings to propel the club further up the Premier League.

 As for the rest of the league, it was notable for a few things. Man U won the league by 18 points, Leeds came third and qualified for the Champions League qualifying round and Watford, Sheffield Wednesday and Wimbledon were relegated. The Dons had a new, interesting destiny ahead of them and the Crazy Gang days were well and truly over.