Bootham Crescent Holdings - three words whose wretchedness has only been equalled in the history of York City Football Club by the names Craig, Swallow, Webb.

Until last week's transfer of power when the three remaining BCH directors of Douglas Craig, Barry Swallow and Colin Webb were replaced as part of the deal that at last restored the ground to the supporters, BCH was a by-word for all that has turned sour for the Minstermen.

If, as it was claimed, BCH was formed originally to 'protect the interests of the club', it has done little but jeopardise the very future of York. Several times the club has teetered on the abyss of oblivion, only to be yanked clear from the edge as the ground underneath crumbled by the magnificent efforts of its fans and its current board of directors.

Even now with the team's long-term future secured at Bootham Crescent, the club has to find swingeing repayments on a £2million loan over the next ten years. For all the understandable relief at escaping the crippling clutches of the Craig-Swallow-Webb axis, the future could yet be tinged with red-letter demands.

But according to Craig - BCH's most vociferous apologist - BCH cannot be blamed for anything. That argument is not so much flawed as facetious as well as being grossly insulting.

The BCH gang of three, who turned the antecedence of club history smack on its head, collected cash to the tune of £1,429,322 as part of the overall £2million price for the club being bought back.

Yet they gained their places on the board in the first place by the very same means as their predecessors. They paid £1 per one share for their investment in the club. And such was the diligent and dignified dictum followed by all previous directors that once anyone left, they were to offer those shares back to the remaining board members at that self-same £1 per share price.

It was that adherence to the rules which prevented the late Robert Gibb taking command of the club when Michael Sinclair opted to end his chairmanship. Gibb, whose son Gordon Gibb later unsuccessfully tried to take over the Minstermen during the BCH sale, was blocked from becoming the new chairman because of the rule that Sinclair's shares first had to be offered back to the existing board.

From then Craig took command with an investment of just over £128,000. Craig now leaves the building with £1,084,000. Not quite instant millionaire status, but what a return. Who needs the pools, or the National Lottery, or even Chris Tarrant?

Even given all the flak that Craig attracted, he and his fellow directors did not shy clear from the glory, glory days of Wembley 1993, beating Manchester United at Old Trafford in 1995, and the year after disposing of Everton similarly in the League Cup.

Craig and his cronies also basked in the praise for financial prudence for which the club was admired and for which they were rightly feted until the 2000-2001. Then, a fiscal policy which Chancellor Gordon Brown would have warmed to, went through the roof. The club wage bill topped £2million, with players' wages vastly outstripping income.

Even if previous directors had embraced the custodian nature of their responsibility, I doubt that given the circumstances of the club and subsequent ground sale, few fans would have blanched had Craig and the BCH clan made some profit on their initial investment.

But not only did they ditch that principle of stewardship, they turned their Crescent regime into a significant earner. BCH - a brazen, callous, haul.

Updated: 09:37 Tuesday, January 18, 2005