Christmas 2001 was a big family affair for me and my little brood. We travelled up to the wilds of the Perthshire countryside in Scotland to spend Christmas Day at my uncle’s guest house with various members of my extended family. We had a light sprinkling of snow to get us in the mood, and my one-year-old son didn’t seem too bothered about being kitted out in the full Boro kit that Father Christmas brought him. My father, on the other hand, didn’t look too impressed. Ultimately, I was the brain-washer-in-chief, and I was just doing my job.

 2002 started with a New Year’s Day fixture at home against Everton. Folk hero Gianluca Festa scored the only goal in a 1-0 win. Then it was time for the FA Cup 3^rd round. Boro weren’t to get an easy ride in this competition, drawing Wimbledon away, but managed a 0-0 draw to set up a replay at home. Old Leeds boy Noel Whelan started his best run of form for the club, adding to a Cunningham own goal to earn a 2-0 win and a 4^th round tie with McClaren’s former employers, Manchester United.

 Consistently inconsistent as ever, Boro lost 2-1 at the Al-Fayed funded new boys Fulham in the next league game, before drawing 1-1 at home to Bolton. Whelan was on the score-sheet once again.

 The following weekend saw the visit of Manchester United in the cup. The game was on TV, and everyone expected a full house, but the fans took a stand against the pricing for the game, and only 17,000 turned up to watch. Many regretted their decision later, because Boro managed to pull of something of an upset, repelling the Man U attack and scoring two late goals. Noel Whelan’s goal – latching onto a mistake by Laurent Blanc – was followed by a Leeds salute towards the joyous (but half-empty) North Stand. His feelings towards the red half of Manchester were plain to see.

 Whelan scored again to give us a 1-0 victory at the Stadium of Light on the following Tuesday night. We had yet another 0-0 draw with Charlton, then a 2-2 draw at home with mega-bucks trophy chasers (in those days) Leeds United; Ince and the veteran loan star Dean Windass grabbing the goals. A 2-1 win at home to Fulham in midweek was followed by a 1-0 defeat at the Boleyn ground in ‘appy ‘ammer territory, resuming that staccato pattern of draws, wins and losses. At least the form in the cup was holding up. Blackburn were the next team to be beaten, 1-0 at the Riverside in mid-February. The keenly-watched quarter final draw threw up the rather chewy prospect of Everton. There had been no easy draws at all.

 Leicester visited the Riverside in early March and very kindly scored the winning goal for Boro. The hapless Frank Sinclair slotted the ball past his own ‘keeper from a good 30 yards to the amazement and delight of the Boro fans. Southampton away (on a Wednesday night – credit to the fans who travelled for that one) were next up, and Noel Whelan secured a 1-1 draw for us.

 The following weekend was the FA Cup quarter final against Everton, which was won much more easily than expected. Whelan, Nemeth and Ince scored in a comfortable but unspectacular 3-0 win. The match was televised once again, but this time there was a larger crowd of over 26,000. Attendances for the season had settled at between 26 and 30 thousand depending on the opposition. Was that something to do with the football on show? McClaren’s style definitely wasn’t flashy, all-out attack, but the goals against column was showing a satisfactory number. The lower attendances were probably down a combination of factors – including the football and the increasing prices to watch a game. Me? Well I didn’t get to go to many matches this season. Family commitments made it difficult to justify the cost of a season ticket, but I was at least thankful that many of the games were shown on TV.

 Liverpool visited the Riverside next and were sent back to Merseyside without a point. Southgate scored the winning goal in the 2-1 triumph – his first for the club. Then it was time to visit Old Trafford, which no longer seemed an unbreakable fortress after the spectacular win there in 1999. Our emergence as something of a bogey team to United was enhanced with a 1-0 win in front of the largest crowd of the season in the Premiership. The recently-arrived-on-loan Benito Carbone made the most of a defensive mistake and set up Alen Boksic to slide home the winner. I don’t think Roy Keane was very happy with his team mates that day.

 March finished with a 1-1 draw at home to Spurs, courtesy of another goal by the French full-back. Robbie Mustoe gave us a 1-0 victory against Derby County on 1^st April, and then Carbone and Ehiogu scored to defeat Aston Villa at the Riverside. Boro were up to 9^th position in the table.

 Next up it was Arsenal in the FA Cup semi-final. The Gooners were on course for another double-winning season under the mercurial, selectively-myopic Arsene Wenger. Boro’s team was ravaged by injury and had to call on youngsters like Luke Wilkshire, the Australian winger, to fill in. The Boro contingent went to Old Trafford full of hope more than expectation, but organized a card display to demonstrate their kinship and feelings of communal pride. I wasn’t there myself, but watched it on TV. The card display and the singing were incredibly inspiring, making those of us watching at home feel proud, so it must have rubbed off on the team.

 Boro battled their hearts out against the London aristocrats, not letting them settle or play their normal game. There were one or two chances created, but spurned. Hope was kept alive and kicking until an Arsenal corner was diverted into the Boro goal by Gianluca Festa. Thierry Henry strutted around like Freddy fucking Mercury in celebration of the own goal, right in front of the Boro fans as the distraught Festa sank to his knees. All we needed was a robe, a crown and a guillotine.

 And that was that. There was no coming back. Arsenal got their league and cup double and Boro’s season petered out. Home defeats to Blackburn and Chelsea were joined by away defeats to Leeds and soon-to-be-relegated Ipswich Town.

 So Middlesbrough finished 12^th on 45 points. It wasn’t bad; it wasn’t great. It was OK. Given the way the season had started, things could have been worse. The unexpected FA Cup run had given fans something to cheer, but it was obvious that there was still work to do. Steve McClaren was still trying to stamp his mark on the team and obviously had a few ageing Robson-era stars like Mr. Boksic to deal with. His continuing involvement with the England team and their preparations for the World Cup in Japan and South Korea, as well as rumours about him considering an offer to manage Leeds United, didn’t endear him to the fans as much as some might have hoped. Only time would tell if he could win the fans over.

 It was summer again. I took my wife and son on holiday to the scorching hot island of Corfu and while I watched the World Cup games in a bar by the brilliant Mediterranean Sea, I didn’t know what was looming round the corner for me and my family. Not far from where England were being dumped out of the competition by Brazil, something like the beat of a butterfly’s wings and the slight shift in tectonic plates started a chain of events that would once more take me on my travels.

 I do love a bit of Chaos Theory…