Ah, the dawn of a new millennium, the 21st Century…just spare me the arguments about when it actually started, please…
 Whatever, the 21st Century was here; a point in time that used to look so futuristic and distant, even in 1990. Where were the flying cars, silver boiler suits and meals in pill form that the books and films had promised us? Still in our imaginations, it seems. Of course, times were a-changing. The internet was spreading and growing, becoming more and more influential in the way we worked and played. At work we could e-mail crap jokes and preposterous urban myths to all our friends at the click of a button. At home we were able to negate the need for red-faced, surreptitious episodes in newsagents, but had to wait half an hour for anything decent to download on the dial-up connection, by which time curious wives and mothers had kicked the bedroom door down.
 Still, the greater world around us moved on apace. In the news headlines we saw Pope John Paul II apologize to the world for the wrongdoings of the Roman Catholic Church over the centuries. Vladimir Putin became president of Russia, presumably taking a few days to clear all the empty vodka bottles from his office in the Kremlin, Israel withdrew IDF forces from Lebanon for the first time in 22 years, Concorde crashed into a hotel in Paris, Al Qaeda bombed the USS Cole in the Arabian Gulf and chimpanzee-in-chief George W Bush won the protracted US presidential election with some electoral jiggery-pokery in Florida
 The biggest films of the year included Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible II, Ridley Scott’s Gladiator and a bearded Tom Hanks in Cast Away. The world of popular music featured a generational battle of the divas between Britney and Madonna, and U2’s Beautiful Day marked a return to form for Bono and the boys. Music snobs go back to your Peruvian goat nostril blowing, please.
 In other sport and football, France won Euro 2000 with a golden goal, Real Madrid won their 8th European Cup/Champion League title, Tiger Woods achieved the golfing Grand Slam, that German fella won the F1 Championship, Pete Sampras bored his way to another Wimbledon Tennis victory and Italy joined the Five Nations Rugby union tournament to make it the Six Nations and finally gave Scotland someone to beat.
 For me, 2000 was a year of massive change. There was the move to Thirsk, my thirtieth birthday and – the biggest one of all – the arrival of my son in the middle of August. Everything changed at that point: I was now responsible for a new life, one that I would nurture and mould. It scared me half to death, and I still can’t quite believe it ten years later.
 I had to give up my season ticket, of course. Of course?! Well, there were many factors here, which I won’t go into in case it sounds like I’m making excuses. I was able to keep my Sky Sports subscription, at least, and would be able to keep up with Boro’s fortunes via the various mediums available. The gentle tones of Alistair Brownlee and Century Radio were number one on the car radio.
 As for the football itself, the fans of Middlesbrough FC had reason to be optimistic about the new season. We lost Christian Zeige to Liverpool under controversial circumstances, but this was off-set by the arrival of Alen Boksic, Christian Karembeu, Ugo Ehiogu and Joseph Desire-Job. Boksic was another example of Bryan Robson’s ability to attract top-drawer talent to the club. Would his coaching skills measure up as well? After something of a sterile, uneventful season, Boro fans were looking for some excitement. I’m not sure what transpired was what they had in mind.
 It all started so promisingly as well. The first game of the season, less than a week after my son’s birth, was away to Coventry. We stuffed them 3-1 with Job and Boksic sharing the goals. Here comes that hope again. You can’t do anything about it; it gets into your head, even though you know where it is going to end up.
 A draw with Spurs was followed by a 2-1 home defeat to Dirty Leeds, and the hope was soon receding. A indifferent run of form was becoming established…draws with the odd defeat: Derby, Villa and Manchester City sharing points with us and Everton dooming us to yet another narrow home defeat. Southampton away provided a measure of respite with a 3-1 win and a brace of Boksic goals. It was becoming painfully obvious that Mr. Boksic had class and skill oozing from every pore, but he seemed to keep it hidden a lot of the time. He would also develop a reputation for being injury prone, and the cynical whisperings about his reportedly astronomical weekly wage were soon heard in the pubs and work places of Teesside.
 A wretched run of eight league defeats and one draw then followed, starting with a 3-1 beating by the Geordies. Goals were hard to come by at the right end, but flew in with joyful abandon at the other. Charlton, Ipswich, Arsenal, Manchester United, Leicester all took great pleasure in adding to this horrible run. The fans’ patience was running out fast. A team with such talent just shouldn’t have been struggling so badly and losing so poorly to average teams. There was also another early exit in the League cup, with an aggregate defeat to lowly Macclesfield.
 At the end of November, fellow strugglers Bradford City were the visitors to the Riverside and promptly went into a 2-0 lead. The boos started to echo round the stadium, a sound I hadn’t heard a lot of in my Boro life to date. Mr. Robson’s future at the club was starting to look decidedly uncertain. Ehiogu and Ince scored in the second half to salvage a point, but it didn’t stop Boro sinking to 19th place in the Premier League. The crowds at the Riverside were noticeably lower, threatening to dip below 28,000. Something had to change.
 An away defeat to West Ham marked Bryan Robson’s last game as sole manager of the team. Chairman Steve Gibson decided against the nuclear option of sacking him and brought in the much-needed acumen and smooth demeanour of former England manager Terry Venables. There were opinions galore as to what his actual role was, but it was clear that he had been asked to come in to take the reins whilst giving some guidance and advice to Robson. Where that left Robson was uncertain; would he be able to resume sole management duties at some point? He was, as they say, damaged goods in many peoples’ eyes.
