Last weekend was the sunniest and warmest February weekend since the dinosaurs ruled the planet, and that’s going back a bit. It was all rather bad timing for me, though, as I had a bridge weekend with the boys from Leeds, which meant that, for most of the weekend, we were indoors, emerging only occasionally, like moles from their holes, blinking and squinting in the sunlight.

I did excuse myself from the bridge table on Saturday afternoon, to enjoy an entertainingly efficient performance by the City. We could have done without the sun there, actually – on a cloudy day our seats are the best in the house, but at this time of year we have the sun in our faces for most of the game. It’s just as well we go well equipped with a variety of stylish headgear, my own Australian bush hat attracting many an admiring glance. Anyway, we saw off Sheffield Wednesday, 2-1, to keep alive the hopes of promotion after the previous week’s upset at QPR. Guy (one of the bridge boys, and a lifelong West Brom fan) came with us, and pretended to enjoy himself… although City’s win coincided with a rare defeat for his team.

Other interesting footie results were Newcastle’s thrashing, 4-1 at Aston Villa (Keegan’s really up against it now), and Man City’s win at Old Trafford. All the talk before that match was about whether City fans would disrupt the minute’s silence (to comemmorate the Munich plane crash 50 years ago), but they didn’t. Typically, Man United took the credit for the City fans’ behaviour by claiming that it was due to them each being given a scarf on the way in.

This is a critical stage of the season for many clubs. From here on in, the league tables become more stable, with the clubs in trouble staying in trouble, and the clubs that are doing well (like City) beginning to feel more settled on their lofty perches. Others, like Bristol’s other club, can begin to hope for mid-table mediocrity, which, to be fair, would be a fair achievement for Rovers in the 3rd division, where they are already punching above their weight.

It’s also, obviously, a tense time for managers. Already this week Ian “Pretty Boy” Dowie has been sacked from Coventry, and Bryan “Smiler” Robson has been relieved of his duties at Sheffield United. Robson clearly saw the writing on the wall, and felt he might as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb, so rounded on the fans as being to blame for the Blades’ poor performances, thereby breaking Rule 431 of the football managers’ text book, “Thou shalt not piss off your own fans”. I felt a bit sorry for him, miserable sod that he is, given that they got a very respectable draw at West Brom on Tuesday in his last game in charge, but hey-ho, what do I know?

So, ladies and gentlemen, place your bets for the next casualty of the ridiculous management merry-go-round. My money’s split between The Messiah, and Ian Holloway at Leicester City. I must admit to loving every minute of Leicester’s difficulties, having made a small wager with my friend Dave that my City would finish higher in the league than his. At the time I thought I was being foolishly optimistic (one’s support for the Club often makes one blind to the obvious likelihoods), but now I’m almost certain of the win.

Which is more than could be said of the bridge at the weekend, when Leeds won the Ashes, yet again. So confident were they of doing so that they didn’t even bring the trophy with them to Bristol. Ah well, I’m off up there at the weekend, for Graeme’s 50th, so at least I’ll get to admire it on his mantlepiece.