Filip

7 days ago I was getting prepared for a promotion party for my team, Hull City, on the occasion of what was fully expected to be a celebration of their promotion, automatically to the Premier League.

Curse the team. They never do anything the easy or logical way.  Everything fell apart against Barnsley in the penultimate game and my pretty impressive array of snacks and goodies had to be confined to the bin.

The close to sell by date buffet pork pies, celery stalks, salsa dips and three leaf salad mix looked as sad and dejected as I felt. The extra large pretzels just had to be eaten in my bid to find some form of consolation and comfort in the traumatic circumstances arising from the non-performance of my team.

It was my fault for buying everything from the clearance shelf at the local supermarket the day before. I was hopeful for the required result but after all there is a recession on and budgetary constraints are in place in our household.

It would have been a momentous achievement, not just the anticipated tastebud seducing combination of pork pie and salad but the first automatic promotion to the top league in more than 100 years. Hang on, statisticians amongst you may say, didn't Hull City get to the Premier in the 2008 season?

Yes, it is true.

But remember that was through the play-offs and a very memorable day out for 10% of the city's population to Wembley Stadium for the final against Bristol City. I was there with the people I wanted to be there with.

This season in the Championship has been tremendous but it has faltered somewhat in the last few weeks.

Phil, the barometer of all things City was distraught last weekend with the outcome of the game in South Yorkshire. He sent me a text that the team had "blown it" and I could do nothing but agree.

I should have replied to Phil's text that day and shown solidarity in our anxieties .We could have moaned and bemoaned our position as longstanding supporters of our home team.

I regret that now and I apologise openly to him for not offering a sympathetic ear and a man to man type shoulder to cry on. I do know that he did secretly follow another local team, Scunthorpe United and they got relegated last week so as far as Phil was concerned his world was teetering close to the edge of a sporting abyss.

As for myself, for the critical final game of the season at home to Cardiff I had devised a strategy to be completely away and out of contact or accidental earshot of any news, information, score updates and banter.

Me and The Boy, at the kick off time were sat at a pavement table of a greasy spoon café in York after having cycled the 26 miles or so from Howden. Being York, we were assured that there would be no chance of bumping into any Hull folk or anyone with any modicum of favourable feeling to Hull City. There is no love lost between our two cities in the matter of football.

Over the ensuing 90 plus minutes we were otherwise engaged in the return ride.

As we crossed the physical divide of the River Derwent ,at the Barmby Barrage, from North to East Yorkshire and therefore into the villages of the fan base of Hull City I feared for the sight of a street party, a proud newly erected flag flying from a house or car window, people dancing in the street or a queue outside the local off licence. There was nothing. Not even a small child in a replica shirt sobbing at the garden gate or kicking a beloved pet out of grief and heartbreak.

My masterplan of a complete blackout had been masterful but at the same time I was disappointed in not having any portents of either a good or adverse result.

At the end of the ride I checked my mobile phone.

There were only two messages. Both were from my brother, Mark who had also been at Wembley in 2008.

The first just said that he was glued to the radio. It was an old message.

The second announced that the team had done it. Not in any easy way as it transpired but they had done it.

So, when I am asked at any time in the future where was I when Hull City were automatically promoted to the Premier League in 2013 I can truthfully say, Chapel Close, Howden, Yorkshire.

I just had to ring Phil about the whole thing and he was happy.