This week I had the distraction of having two wisdom teeth removed. Generally speaking, I was very brave boy but I still have the occasional flashback to the surgeon saying in his calm, soothing monotone; ‘don’t worry, the cracking noise is just your tooth not your jaw’. This wasn’t as reassuring as it was intended.

I’d been given various bits of advice by people who’d had it done before; recovery times were measured in weeks or seconds. One person described his procedure as being so quick and unobtrusive, I think he might have mistakenly been describing extracting a bogie from his nose.

In the end it was somewhere in between, despite the local anaesthetic, I was told it ‘got surgical’, whatever that means. Apparently, I had an age-related complication of a tooth being fused to the bone. Frankly, being told I had age-related complications is first for me and one of the more devastating aspects of the whole thing.

For most of the week, the game against Bristol City, was just beyond my planning horizon with a robust regimen of paracetamol, ibuprofen and yoghurt obscuring my path. By Saturday I was fine, if slightly uncomfortable, and was craving something relatively ‘normal’.

Although increasingly familiar, The Championship isn’t normal for us, not yet, we’re constantly told that we’re punching above our weight and outperforming what’s expected of us. We go into most games marvelling at our opponents deep well of resources. It’s easy to foster an inferiority complex.

Equally, the arrival of Matt Bloomfield and the beginning of another managerial era, meant the game wasn’t particularly normal. Plus, we’re signing midfielders at a rate of four a day at the moment, so even our starting eleven isn’t as normal as it might be.

The response to Bloomfield’s arrival hasn’t been greeted with universal acceptance. We can be fairly sure he wasn’t the club’s first choice and his stats, particularly with Luton, don’t exude confidence. That said, he has something to prove and that will hopefully inspire him to take a deeper ownership of our future.

The manager’s role is evolving, clubs have clearly spotted the flaw in over-relying on one person for future success and immediate stability of their club. As fans, we’re generally obsessed with the manager, but clubs are shifting to de-risk the position. They’re no longer an all-consuming overlord and increasingly a cog in a larger machine. To some degree, it’s where Gary Rowett went wrong; he was brought in to do a short term job – keep us up – and seemed to have little interest in the wider machinery of the club. Bloomfield, hopefully, is a more comfortable longer-term fit.

Before the game, over an unremarkable latte and 0% beers, the last of the great hellraisers; Brinyhoof, Gingermoods, Johnny Biscuits and I discussed how the new manager might be introduced to the crowd. Liam Manning skulked in his dugout, Gary Rowett perhaps mustered a brief clap towards the crowd. We were craving something a little more extravert, there’s no love for Karl Robinson, but it’s still quite nice to have a manager whose ego pulsates through the club.

In the end, Bloomfield strode out to take and give the applause while the perimeter advertising bore the legend ‘Welcome Matt’ – which may just have been introducing the latest branded offer from the club shop. It was a strong start, unlike some of his predecessors, he was prepared to give the illusion that this was more than a stepping stone or stop gap before something better came along. A little more Des Buckingham, a little less Gary Rowett.

City arrived wearing a regulation away kit from the 1970s; white shirts, black shorts, white socks. It had none of that ‘the kit invokes the spirit of the Avon, which carried slaves into the docks to forge a new prosperity for the people of Bristol’ nonsense all kits seem to have nowadays. More away kits should look like they’ve been supplied by the local sports shop, which absolutely isn’t a criticism. I loved it as much as the back of their tracksuit tops which simple bore the legend ‘Bristol City’ in an unremarkable serif font.

The first half slipped by effortlessly as the crowd occasionally receded into occasional periods of near silence. City’s fans didn’t offer much by way of vocal encouragement, but then City’s players didn’t inspire, despite the talent they clearly have.

The parity was, in part, as much our doing. The remodelling of our midfield brought a new level of control – Peart-Harris may have been a little out of position, but his athleticism down the left balanced Mills’ threat on the right. Konak’s has a little of the Alex Gorrin about him which drew an early yellow card and half-time substitution, but it was nice to see some more grit alongside Brannagan and De Keersmaecker. Gorrin, one of the many ex-players in the crowd, would have been proud.

The second half saw Konak replaced by Vaulks, who is always more comfortable when he has options around him so the dial didn’t shift much. For a period, we were on top and maybe could have expected a little more than a point. Little ground was given as City looked impotent going forward. At the other end, late chances were spurned, Mills never looked comfortable despite being one-on-one with the goalkeeper while Brown had a chance headed off the line.

Results elsewhere didn’t go our way with Portsmouth and Norwich both winning. The wise old elves texting into Radio Oxford were foreboding; the gap is growing, the point is not enough. But, there’s not a lot we can do about other teams and it perhaps misses the point.

A last-minute goal may have obscured the real improvement, a better shape, a more assured performance, a greater sense of parity with our Championship opposition rather than feeling we’re always scrambling for points. I was craving more normality and this felt like the most normal league game we’ve had since League One. Survival is still a long way off, but re-establishing our foundations and being less fearful of relegation will be a big step in the right direction. At times it may have felt like pulling teeth, unless you’ve had your teeth pulled, of course.