I was in Oxford on Saturday away from the trials of what was happening at The Valley. There was a large, noisy and joyous anti-fascist demonstration-cum-carnival going on outside the Westgate Centre.

The reason, it turned out, was to counter something called a ‘patriots march’ which walked past us as we headed down the High Street. The organisers estimated they might muster a dozen protestors in total. There may have been that many but only if you include the bored policemen escorting them down the street on bicycles. It didn’t feel like they were equipped to fight Islamic extremism, which they believe Oxford is succumbing to.

The only thing that distinguished them from the thousands of Christmas shoppers apparently not succumbing to Islamic extremism was their St George’s and Israeli flags. The flags of a migrant resident of Palestine and that of the ultimate expression of asylum; interesting.

Now, I can demolish a good book in a few days and I’ve read a lot of good books this year, The Racket by Conor Niland, Uncommon People by Miranda Sawyer, More Than a Shirt by Joey D’Urso to name a few. Going into December, I was on track to beat my best year in terms of the number of books I’ve read. 

That was until I got to my latest – Rise and Kill First by Ronen Bergman – the story of Mossad, the Israeli secret service. It’s a 750-page monster, which needs every page to tell its story. I’m half-way through but it’s fairly evident that if you’re bold enough to pick a side in this conflict, you probably don’t understand the problem.

Real life is messy with many cul-de-sacs, irrelevances and contradictions. Some books try to reflect this but most simplify the story arc; discarding the ephemera is a convenient device to keep the reader engaged. Tangents, parallel strands, inputs and outcomes are simplified or ignored for the benefit of the central story.

We do this in real life too meaning some people convince themselves they’ve found the headwater of life’s complexities by following an arc to its source. The Oxford Mail thought the dozen ‘patriots’ meandering through Oxford was worthy of the third story on their homepage; one was quoted as saying the purpose of the march was to ‘stop the boats’ and ‘have a laugh’. He has it all figured out.

At Oxford United, we identify moments and individuals who pivot the club towards its historic moments. In truth, the point we’re at is a rolling wave of moments crashing on top of us. Our survival or otherwise this season isn’t defined by Gary Rowett or January, but by Firoz Kassam buying us 25 years ago, who in turn arrived by virtue of Robert Maxwell dying in 1991, who was drawn to the club because of decisions taken half a century ago and more. Whatever the Oxford United equivalent of stopping our boats is, it’s not the only influence over us achieving our goal of ‘having a laugh’.

I didn’t follow the game against Charlton closely, but the themes that seeped through were grindingly familiar. Two poor teams scrapping out a draw, hoping for a moment of quality or luck. Their moment came, ours didn’t, they took the points.

These things happen, but they’re now happening with a regularity which is hard to ignore. Swansea, Norwich, West Brom, Sheffield United and now Charlton are all teams who were apparently hurtling towards destruction and ripe for the taking. We’ve managed a total of one point across the lot.

Again, Gary Rowett’s post-match analysis was a fair reflection of the game and our situation, but for a few weeks now he’s sounded like he’s running out of ideas. His commitment, which has never looked to be in abundant supply anyway, feels like it’s slipping away. He may continue to do his job, but he can’t ignore the fact he might need some other options up his sleeve.

Championship management has almost become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Managers rarely last more than 18 months, so managers prepare themselves for the end almost as soon as they walk in the door. Rowett has always been careful not to be drawn deeply into the club, he’s a hired gun, a mercenary. In return, we pay him handsomely, benefit from his experience and reserve the right to get rid of him in an instant. It’s a devils pact. Rowett’s approach could be a calculated move, self-protection to avoid becoming too associated with one club’s success or failure. It also makes him a more objective, honest and better manager too.

But as the results have slipped away, he’s become the story, a lightning rod of conjecture. This puts him in a difficult position. He may not be the sole reason for our struggles, as some suggest, but if we are to survive, we need to settle this distraction first, either by working through it or removing it from the arc. And that’s before you start addressing the problems in the squad or on the pitch.

As the question marks grow it creates a gravity, fans are quick to be drawn in. Some players will look at themselves, but others will cite the consensus as to where the ‘real’ problem lies. That’s when factions start to develop; groups of people using the same evidence to reach different conclusions, losing sight of the actual issue and simply focussing on each other as being the problem. I’m not suggesting that’s where we are yet, but if you get to that point, it’s a long way back.

Those that have written off the season are wrong; we were in the relegation zone at Christmas last year and survived and we’ve yet to play eight of the bottom half at home. There are points to be won and lots of them, but, while Portsmouth remain within striking distance; a gap has appeared above them meaning one win is no longer enough to pull our way to safety.

Some are frothing for an immediate decision, but with two games in quick succession, I’d be surprised to see Rowett go now. Southampton are in good form and the Boxing Day game is always a gathering of the Oxford United diaspora and not a place to play out our psychodrama, but Swansea on the 29th looks like it could be pivotal.