COUPLE more wins over Nottingham Forest and Norwich respectively kept things rolling, but we then had an inexplicably long winless run that threatened to derail our promotion drive ? a win over West Bromwich was our first success in seven games. We returned to winning ways and there was a nice surprise in store for me when we travelled to Grimsby Town. It was the first time I had captained City, although I was unsure whether or not I would be doing so until just before the game. Jamie Pollock was injured and I had seen a few reports that I might be called on to lead the team out, and that it would be a nice gesture because I had ridden the hard times and was now a popular member of the squad. As Joe called out the team sheet before the game he said, 'And the captain's going to be Shaun'. All the lads cheered. I felt very proud ? and a little nervous.

My preparation before a game was all about me. I didn't have systematic superstitions such as tying my right bootlace first, but I did enter my own zone before kick-off and I could not really do that as captain! I wondered what to do, and then I realised, 'You know what? You've just got to be yourself.' I went around the lads saying, 'Come on lads, let's do it today!' but pretty soon I found I was out of motivational encouragement and could think of nothing else to say! Being one of the quiet ones, I was not used to all this geeing up. For a minute or so everything went quiet, so I started again, 'Come on, we can do this today!' I certainly wasn't an Andy Morrison type of skipper. I enjoyed my day with the armband, even though we only drew 1?1, and I kept it for several games in Pollock's absence. When the fans began singing 'One Shaun Goater! There's only one Shaun Goater', it was a proud moment, because I knew I'd turned things around. Things had come such a long way from the days when Joe read out the team sheet and I hoped, 'Don't pick me again, don't pick me again'.

'Shaun, you're up front', he would say, and I would wonder why he stuck by me through thick and thin. He believed in me, and I owe it to him for not bowing to crowd pressure and for believing I would win the fans over.

I really cannot remember when I first heard the song 'Feed the Goat and he will score', but I loved it. I recall the lads coming in at half-time and saying, 'Did you hear that song, Goat? They're singing about you', and it just caught on. Some people maintain it was during the 4?0 win over Fulham, others during the away win at Forest. I don't know who thought it up, but I definitely owe them one. The fans would sing when I scored, and if I didn't find the net I would put in a few strong challenges and they would start up again. I really wanted to keep that song going! Even Joe Royle would shout 'Feed the Goat!' during training, and in some ways it helped me become better known as a player. Soccer AM tried to get me on the show for a game called 'Feed the Goat' in which fans were taken out of the studio and attempted to kick as many balls as possible through a giant cardboard goat's mouth in the space of a minute to the background music of 'Feed the Goat and he will score'. I never took up the invitation, despite being asked a few times, because I was not very comfortable with being on TV and I preferred to keep a low profile away from the pitch. The song would play a huge part in my career; it became known up and down the country and I understand that it is one of the most popular terrace chants of recent times. I remember the Birmingham fans once singing 'Feed the Horse' for Geoff Horsfield, but it didn't have the same ring to it . . .

Fortunately all this was happening at a great time for the club, so I could enjoy it all the more. We had reached the last two games of the season, our penultimate game being at home to Birmingham City. We knew that if we got four points from the two games we would be promoted automatically. Charlton were already up and it was between us and Ipswich for the second spot. We played Birmingham on a Friday night, the game being broadcast live on Sky, and Ipswich were at Charlton the following day. When Robert Taylor scored the only goal of the night our fans went wild, and on the final whistle thousands poured on to the pitch, thinking we were as good as up. I remembered the feeling of being choked after we had beaten Wigan a year earlier to go to Wembley, and this time I sprinted off! A few fans caught up with me, but this time I was a lot quicker. Nicky Weaver was not so lucky; he was almost engulfed by the hundreds of well-wishers surrounding him. While the fans celebrated I thought, 'This isn't over yet', and sure enough Ipswich, no doubt fuelled by our victory scenes at Maine Road, won comfortably the next day at the previously impregnable Valley.

That meant we had to get something from our last game at Blackburn, and what an incredible game that would turn out to be ? in fact, surreal would be a better description. Our supporters were everywhere, even on a hill overlooking the stadium, and when we ran out at Ewood Park it felt like a home game.

Blackburn manager Graeme Souness had said that Charlton secured the title at Ewood Park two weeks earlier, and he didn't want to see another team celebrating in his own backyard. Those words must have worked because Blackburn were all over us in the first half. They hit the crossbar, they hit Nicky Weaver, one post, then the other ? everything ? and although they did find the net eventually they were only 1?0 up at the break. All the time they were killing us. 'I just want one chance ? one opportunity', I thought. That was all I asked for.

During the interval Joe told us, 'If you want to lose and throw away all you've done over the season, keep playing the way you are because that's exactly what you're going to do'. Then he added, 'Go out there and play like you want to win this, like you want promotion, like it means something. You're waiting on them to do something so you can react but the good news is, you're playing sh** but you're only 1?0 down. You've got forty-five minutes to decide whether you want to be in this division or to play with the big boys. Now go out and show me what you've got.' We sat there and thought about it for a moment, then ran out again for the second half. Dicky and I had not done much so we decided to really get into it, and within a few minutes Kevin Horlock put in the perfect cross and I knew it was coming to me.

I thought about smashing my foot through it, but knew getting it on target was the most important thing, so I just decided to sidefoot the ball. Fortunately the connection was sweet and it flew into the net. I ran off towards the Rovers fans with my hand to my ear ? I could no longer hear them giving me any stick ? I enjoyed that! City fans were jumping up all over the ground, and not too long afterwards Christian Dailly headed a long clearance past his own keeper to make it 2?1. Then Kennedy made it three, before Dicky added a fourth. That was it, and when the whistle went for full time I was thinking about all the chances they had had and failed to take. Blackburn's players were holding their heads in their hands, probably wondering how the hell they had lost the game, but for me it was destiny ? no other explanation would wash.

Two promotions in two seasons ? we went back to the dressing room, too exhausted to do anything and certainly with no energy to jump up and down in celebration. In fact, a couple of the pictures taken at the time show Dicky, Mark Kennedy and me sitting down, happy but completely whacked.

we came out to greet the fans from the Ewood Park directors' box it was like being back at Maine Road. The whole pitch, bathed in sunshine, was a sea of City supporters waving flags, singing songs and jumping up and down ? it was a fantastic sight, a moment when I wanted to freeze time, to savour the feeling for ever.

It was great to see the likes of Asa Hartford, Willie Donachie and Joe Royle sipping champagne afterwards ? and being drenched in it by the lads ? and to watch them thoroughly enjoy it. They had earned it with all their hard work.

I had a flashback to David Bernstein's words before our first Division Two game a couple of years earlier, and how he had said we could be legends. Although we were not legends as such, he was right in terms of our all being part of something special.

Certainly at that point I had no thoughts about becoming a legendary figure among the City fans. The champagne was flowing, but I didn't need it to enjoy myself and I doubt I could have felt any happier.

I had also had some amazing news of my own a few months earlier ? I was going to be a daddy, not to just one baby, but two.

Earlier in the year we had learned that Anita was having twin girls. But our dramatic game at Ewood Park almost turned into a disaster. While watching our win at Blackburn Anita had become far too excited. We were concerned she might be having a miscarriage and I took her to the hospital for tests. As there was a promotion party dinner at the Midland Hotel the day after the Blackburn win, I went along with Kyle Lightbourne, but didn't stay too long. Those forty-eight hours were a mixture of excitement and dread because we weren't sure whether our girls would be okay, but the doctor came in and told us everything was fine ? the heartbeats were normal. But within those two days I had experienced every emotion imaginable.

Shortly afterwards Anita was allowed home, and a couple of weeks later we flew to Bermuda and then went on holiday to the Bahamas with Kyle and his wife Rosemarie. An awful lot had happened in the last year and the break was desperately needed.

As I lay on the beach at Atlantis I thought about finally making it to the Premiership. It might have taken eleven years of hard graft and proving people wrong, but I had made it. It had been a fantastic season. We'd been promoted, I'd been voted City fans' Player of the Year and got into the PFA Divisional Team for the season. Now I could test myself against the best ? little old Goat from the tiny island of Bermuda, population 60,000. I couldn't wait to get started . . .