Finally, he’s gone. For me – and for a lot of Valiants – it’s five weeks too late. That shambles at home to Plymouth was the moment to act. Three wins from twenty‑one gigs is abysmal, a sad, sorry tale, and the end was inevitable. We’ve been wretched.

By all accounts Darren Moore is a lovely bloke. He took us straight back up last season, and yes, that was the expectation, but football never follows the script. Just look at Walsall and their spectacular collapse last year. They made a right show of themselves. We weren’t exactly a joy to watch under Moore; we never tore anyone apart with fluid, incisive football. But we got the job done through belligerence more than brilliance. And days like Wimbledon away in April – confirming promotion, limbs everywhere, the world briefly making sense – those memories will last. Those are the days that make life worth living, and for that, Darren deserves a genuine thank you.

But he’s gone. He had to go. That chapter closes now, and we move on.

The cold, objective view is that we won’t stay up. The hope – the faint, stubborn hope – is that we at least go down swinging, clawing back a bit of respectability, throwing a few big punches before the inevitable. A bit of passion and pride before we hit the canvas.

But why be pragmatic when we can let our imaginations run riot with the dizzying possibilities of 2026? What is life without dreams? Miracles do happen. Maybe, just maybe, we can defy the football gods, turn our whole existence into an act of rebellion – the phoenix rising from the ashes, the boulder pushed all the way to May. Dream the impossible dream. Other teams have done it, so why not us? Just imagine the amount of piss that would be boiled if we pulled off a great escape. Is that not enough in itself?

Of course, the voice of reason will say this squad hasn’t got the minerals for the Sisyphean task ahead. But January is coming. Faal and Brown need sending back to their mama clubs. They’re painful to watch and nowhere near League One standard. Aussie Joe is heading back to Villa whether we like it or not. We need a new keeper urgently – Ben Amos was shocking for those first three Huddersfield goals and cost us against Reading too. Markosi is a bad trip we need to wake up from. In truth, we have vulnerabilities everywhere. January has to be smart, ruthless business. We need a manager who can give us that.

And as for the new gaffer? I’m not going to pretend to be an expert. I don’t study the form, but Carol needs to think carefully – not just chuck a ridiculous five‑year contract at the next bloke who says all the right things in the interview.

And so tonight, we’re back in Yorkshire. Bradford City away. They’re doing alright for themselves, third in the league after scraping promotion last season. I don’t see us winning. Not tonight, Josephine. For me, it all begins on New Year’s Day.

There’s still a lot to play for. It’s not over yet. Nowhere near. Dream harder. Up the Vale!