We’d started well and were lying in about 5th place in the league but that was unfortunately as high as we got in the league that season. The team’s form mirrored my own, and after a 2-0 defeat at home to Burscough, I was dropped to the bench for a game against Spennymoor which we drew 3-3. I then got back in and played in the 1-0 defeat at home to Emley who were top of the league. The game was like a war, one of the most physical and nasty games I’ve played in. They had some big lads, were very experienced and really put it about. They also had every trick in the book in their locker, were very streetwise and manipulated the referee to a large degree. They went on to get pipped at the post for the league that season by Stalybridge who were just like them – big, experienced and nasty. Emley could play as well, don’t get me wrong, but it just proved the point Harry made to us that the best passing teams weren’t the ones who won league titles at that level of football, it was usually well organised, fit, strong and streetwise units that did. I played against Chorley in the FA cup and did really well so went into the Friday night game at Bishop Auckland in confident mood, believing that I was approaching peak fitness again.

Bishop’s ground, Kingsway, was a place I had been before, having watched games there with my Uncle Bob who lived not too far away in Barnard Castle. They were a famous old non-league club, having played in front of over 15,000 fans at Kingsway during their famous FA Cup and Amateur cup runs some 50 years earlier. My uncle and cousins were there watching that Friday in a game we lost 2-1. About midway through the second half, I went up for a routine header with Danny Mellanby, who went on to sign a full time deal with Darlington later that season. After I won the ball, Mellanby fell on me and his weight landed on my knee as I fell to the ground. I knew straight away I’d been hurt fairly seriously and though I tried to play in for the next 10 mins, my twisted knee was causing me excruciating pain. I came off and our physio Alan Galiphant quickly determined that I’d strained my medial ligaments quite badly and that I’d be looking at at least 2 months out.

Whilst I was out injured, I had a little more time on my hands and I took the opportunity to watch some of my mates play locally. Some of the lads still rib me today about the fact that I would often turn up in my Whitby tracksuit thinking I looked pretty clever, and looking back now, I wish I’d not bothered! I don’t consider myself to be that big headed in the metaphorical sense, and I really didn’t think I was showing off, but the little boy in me obviously struggled to hide the pride I felt just to play for a club like Whitby. We didn’t train very often as a club, mainly because the lads lived far and wide so getting everyone together was difficult – Harry just expected that you kept yourself fit and covered all the tactics in the dressing room before games. It was quite strange really playing at that level but training less than a lot of local sides, who often trained twice a week. I was given a couple of balls and some exercises to do which would help my rehabilitation process. I took one of the balls down to a Rowntrees game one Saturday afternoon and did a little with it before the game and at half time. This amused some of my old team mates no end and again, I cringe whenever they remind me of it these days.

When I received my signing on fee, I put £50 behind the bar in York for some of my friends that evening and I still wonder today if it was the right thing to do. I had no intention of showing off, just of letting my mates share in what I felt was simply good fortune to have received such great money for playing the game I love. Some observers probably felt I was “giving it the big one” but it was hardly bottles of Cristal in the VIP area of Stringfellows, just a few cheap pints at the student union bar in York we still met up in every now and then. Either way, I can’t deny that playing football added confidence to my character.

It would take 3 months before I played again, against Worksop at home in January. In that 3 month period, I’d spent the first 6 weeks just resting, attending all the games with my tracksuit on and trying to keep myself around the dressing room area. In that time our results were mixed, with us staying around the lower reaches of the table but never being dragged into the relegation zone. We unfortunately went out of the FA Cup in the 3rd qualifying round to Easington, a struggling Northern League team we were expected to beat. The season was quickly becoming one with little to play for the final 3 or 4 months seemed to be very low key. I gradually worked my way back to fitness both on my own and in sessions with Harry and Alan. When I started to play again, my own season followed a familiar pattern. Rather frustratingly, I never seemed to get to full match fitness and my performances were generally ok but no better. I also got sent off for the first and only time in my Whitby career, at Gainsborough in what was actually a terrific performance both personally and from a team point of view. The red card came after my second yellow – I’d been clattered a couple of times in the first half by their centre forward, Lee Ellington, and the first yellow was basically just because I gave him one back in full view of the referee. With the home fans taking a dislike to me as a result, I felt the second yellow was very harsh and had been influenced by their contribution. That said, it was one of those yellows that you sometimes take for the team. We’d just gone 2-1 up and with 15 mins to go it was crucial that we didn’t let them straight back into the game. They broke quickly down our right hand side and I made a covering challenge as they broke in numbers which was slightly mistimed, just in my own half. I knew my fate immediately and trudged off a little disappointed but knowing that the foul had allowed us to get back and get numbers organised to defend a set piece. We did just that and went on to seal the victory with a third soon after so I didn’t feel so bad about the early bath.

The season ended with a whimper in a 2-2 draw at home to Hucknall and the following week, we had a good weekend in Newcastle for our end of season jolly. It was memorable both for the fact that it was a good tear up and also because Graham Rennison and I felt the long arm of the law on our shoulder as we both took a piss outside the railway station in Newcastle!

My first full season hadn’t been a complete success by any means, but I guess it saw me establish myself at level 2. The experience had been fantastic, and I’d played with some great players. As well as the established lads from the previous season, having ex-Carlisle right back Matthew Pitts and former England semi-pro international Kenny Cramman as team mates was a privilege to me, and I learnt little bits from playing with each and every one of my team mates. Both Pittsy and Kenny departed soon after for pastures new but I remained. Despite having suffered highs and lows during the season and rarely being fully fit, I was accepted by these lads I looked across at and everyone at the club saw me as a first team regular. For that I was very proud, but I was still young and hungry to achieve something more than just that.