Fourth or not, calm and humility needed

So, eight games left, five of which are at the only-recently penetrated fortress that is Eastlands. The club in the best financial position it, or any other has ever been, a tried and tested foreign manager, a squad assembled at eyebrow-raising cost, a season which has seen us make an impression at least on those we hope to ultimately catch. You'd think we'd be dancing jigs, wouldn't you? You'd be wrong.

Perhaps it's natural that as the stakes get higher the tension increases, but i get the impression that a good number of Blues are enjoying following the side less than ever. A support well-known and generally respected for it's ability to not take itself so seriously now seems fractured, short-tempered and in lots of cases a bit too keen to play the kid hard done by, perhaps as much a complaint about top-level football nowadays as anything.

Attitudes from the outside changed pretty much overnight as the takeover came to fruition, i think that's quite natural. How we're thought of outside of the club and its support is certainly a bone for contention. As a football fan in general as well as a Blue a certain part of me is against money dominating the game, but you sweep those calls of conscience under the carpet in the hope of seeing the club you love and live through better itself.

My concern is that we're beginning to live up to the image that a proportion of others have of us, that we're demanding of success despite not having had sniff of it in almost two generations, gradual improvement not good enough, glory wanted overnight, and the financial position we now find ourselves in cause enough for a swagger that we really haven't in any way earned.

Not that our olde place as a favourite of the neutral wasn't borne out of a certain deal of sympathy. A formerly great club stifled by a stubborn chairman and dwarfed by the rise and rise of its nearest neighbours, we had little choice but to have a sense of humour, we didn't have a leg to stand on. Without wanting to come across all Schindler, i do feel that's ebbing away, but then again, in the modern game maybe that's to be expected, i'm sure there are those over the city who would agree.

As we approach the business end of what should prove our best season in donkeys years you'd think that there might be a celebratory mood around the club, a sense of relief that for the third consecutive year we've made obvious progress, and a general air of excitement at the possibility we could achieve Champions League football. Thing is, i don't feel it, more so an anticipation that we're bound to fail.

The midweek loss against Everton was our first defeat at home in any competition in almost a year. A year. Twelve months. Afterwards the 'typical City' tosh was trotted out as usual, despite the fact that the position we now find ourselves in is completely new to us. All our rivals, let's not forget, have suffered late season heartbreak and wobbles when competing towards the top of the table. We haven't, blips will occur, we'll be stronger for them, and lessons will be learned, it's a natural case of a club growing.

In the day of instant opinions it seems that any football club is one disappointing result away from its latest crisis, or an unexpected three points off temporarily being the best thing since sliced bread. A handsome victory at Stamford Bridge and we're "certs for fourth", Mancini a genius, three dropped and he's suddenly under pressure, criticised for making changes, mocked for losing his cool.

I'm always slightly uneasy when people hark back to our darkest times as reason for us to not be disappointed with occasional lapses in either form or performances at present, but ten, five, even three years ago we could have only dreamt about being in the position we find ourselves now - on the verge of a place in the elite club competition in the world, and with it all in our own hands. Though only mismanagement had us there in the first place our ascent up the top three divisions of league football in just over a decade means we should be especially proud of where we now find ourselves.

Our remaining eight games will quite rightly be billed as cup finals, so in that sense perhaps the pulling out of hair is understandable. You could argue that the next few weeks are the most important in our history, but that's not to mean that falling just short would be reason for ripping everything up and starting again, or that any result which goes against us on the way is a crisis, or decision a conspiracy.

I can only speak for myself, but though nervous to the extent of occasionally feeling physically sick as we approach such a vital run of games, can we not just sit back and enjoy the bloody ride, keep our sense of humour, win and lose with dignity, accept that we're moving forwards, not get on our high horse because we've got so much to lose, and should it come off or not then graciously take the plaudits or accept defeat, win friends on the way up and all that?

I sincerely hope we can.