IN last week's edition of this august and widely-ignored column, I joked about the prospect of having to ban myself from attending any more games this season if Saturday's home game against Eastleigh proved to be the end of our recent run of spectacular form, due to my being a Jonah.

I embarked on this ill-advised line, safe in the knowledge that the imperious Reds would ensure that any such eventuality would never come to pass.

In the end, of course, it was never in doubt, but that didn't stop me from having a conniption fit as we twice went behind and then waited for the 96th minute to finally take the lead.

When the referee, who had baffled and infuriated both sides throughout awarded the penalty, I could stand it no longer and retreated to the corridor underneath the Directors' Box, just in case me actually, physically seeing the ball was the problem.

Fortunately, as I paced furiously, much to the bewilderment of the Bamford's security staff, I heard the blessed roar that meant that Paul Mullin was about his usual business, dispatching the penalty with the sort of ruthlessness usually reserved for Liam Neeson killing a nameless Eastern European gangster that has made the mistake of kidnapping his daughter.

Being back at the Racecourse for the first time since October was a huge delight. If there is a benefit to leading the weird double life that I currently do, I think the long, enforced absences from the ground mean that each time I return I can see, physically, the signs of progress.

Saturday saw a bumper crowd, one of our highest of the season, and to feel the buzz of expectation and the waves of belief rolling off the stands was very special.

We have banished some of the early season jitters and the relationship between the players, staff and fans is as good as it has been in my short time involved with the club.

The new temporary offices in the car park, the new faces both amongst the players, coaches and administrative staff, and the myriad tiny changes that one picks up from signage to a new tunnel all combine to mark a real sense of change.

On Sunday, I made the trip down to Aberystwyth to watch our Women's U19 team compete in the U19 National Playoff Final against Cardiff City.

The U19s gave a good account of themselves with Amber Lightfoot scoring the pick of the goals, but ultimately the Bluebirds' fitness saw them take advantage of a tiring Wrexham side to record a 5-1 win that didn't really tell the whole story.

For a team that was only constituted this last summer, it was a fantastic achievement for the Women's Football programme at the club. With the First Team pipped at the post for the title and the U19s performing so well, it promises great things for the future of Women's football at Wrexham AFC.

I hope everybody enjoys their Easter weekend, whether they are celebrating or not, and that the Easter Youngy can leave us all with six chocolate points under the Easter tree.

This Easter Youngy thing is not great, but you have to suck it up.

COYR