Not since I was a student have I felt less engaged with the club. Then, a combination of geography and finance prevented me from going to more than a handful of games. In between, beyond the minimal national newspaper coverage and Grandstand final score, it was nigh on impossible to follow what was happening on a week-to-week basis.

Defeat to Northwich should have been met with uproar. But when you’ve already been slain by Droylsden and Histon, it’s difficult to get too het up. The cup defeat to Southend also left me cold. Let’s face it; a victory would hardly have been our greatest cup upset, and the prospect of Dagenham in the next round was not something to fight for.

Perhaps it’s because there’s nobody to blame. Nick Merry, for all his car salesman slickness, has the club’s interest at his heart. Darren Patterson needs time, which everyone recognises. Even the target of the boo-boys, such as Duffy and Gilchrist, haven’t been around. Gilchrist, of course, has called it a day. An inevitable conclusion really; and probably best for all concerned.

Maybe it’s simply that this procession of cup games preventing us from establishing any kind of rhythm. Tonbridge Angels in the Trophy hardly raises the pulse, although a good run may actually help make this season mean something. In the meantime, I snooze.

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