I apologise in advance. This is not a sport's column. I don't want it to be. But (and it's a big but) please let me talk about it this week, won't you? You see, it's an awful time of year.

For those of you who are not football fans, and I quite understand that (yes, I do), the month of May sees the football season end.

Now, for some, that in itself is awful enough, but for many, it signifies the outcome of certain 'situations'. There's been much celebration for Bradford City, and for those of you who don't understand this, that's because they earned sufficient points this season to get promotion to the Premier League, ie 'tops'.

On the other hand, there are York City and Scarborough - who didn't get anywhere near that. Oh dear, guys.

Where did it all go wrong? Manchester City, Jimmy Glass's shattering goal for Carlisle, managers leaving - what's happened to the season of 1998/99? Reporting news is bad enough, but reporting such a demise is horrific. In fact, just as horrific as the time I was at St Peter's, and bunked off prep one evening.

I stood in the crowds waiting for the York City match, only to find myself next to my Head of House. He saw me and, needless to say, I didn't see the game... At least, I've got my troubles off my chest - it feels lighter, indigestion's gone, headaches are receding; and the doc says to keep taking the tablets.

But I don't know what to talk about now, and as the tablets are only there to make my nails strong (after umpteen years of biting them...), I'm not sure they can help in this scenario.

Anyway, the nails. They seem to be growing back. Amazing really. I've bitten them since I was ten, and my son does the same. I never noticed myself doing it, not unless I looked at them - and nail-biters rarely do that!

But now, I can hold out my hand and be proud. Well, apart from the thumbs, with which I'm still struggling.

Nervous habits, or are they? I think it probably was to begin with, but after so long, it's just something one does in a sort of life-pattern.

Like having a cup of coffee when you first get up in a morning; or eating a whole bar of chocolate when you only meant to have a piece.

Yes, I can sense your nods of understanding. Like ironing the front of a shirt - you have to have read my previous column inches to understand that one (no one sees the back and sleeves of a shirt under a jacket - got it yet?)

Unfortunately, I'm still thinking about the new season with anticipation and trepidation. Bradford City may not stay in their new found home of Premier League.

York City and Scarborough cannot stay in their new found homes (and I can't bring myself to identify them). I shall be very happy to report their moves upwards next year.

14/05/99

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.