After a rocky August, the Ross Revolution finally has lift-off. It’s taken a few tactical tweaks, a few injury miracles, and one 18-year-old wonderkid from Liverpool, but Ross County are suddenly looking like a side that knows what it’s doing.

First up, Albion Rovers away. It’s the kind of fixture you dread in this division – a bobbly pitch, a half-empty stand, and a man selling pies who looks like he’s been doing it since the 50s. None of that bothers Trevor Steven, though, who rolls back the years with a vintage hat-trick. The veteran midfield man finishes like it’s 1985 all over again, and we sneak away with a 3–2 win.

Back home against Dumbarton, and Trevor’s at it again. Two more goals, both struck clean enough to make Neville Southall shiver somewhere in Merseyside. Wood and Connelly chip in for good measure as we stroll to a 4–1 victory. Two games, five goals for Steven – and the press still think he’s finished.

Next comes Cowdenbeath. They’re ninth in the table, we’re flying, and yet it’s another nervy one. We fall behind before Gordon Connelly takes matters into his own hands with a stunning late hat-trick to rescue the points. From the outside, it looks like a routine 3–1 win, but those who were there (all 432 of them) know better.

There’s no time to rest, as we’re straight back into it at Arbroath – a proper old-school ground with 249 hardy souls braving the sea air. Steven again, inevitably, plus a tidy finish from Mainwaring. It’s another 3–2 win, and suddenly we’re talking about five on the bounce.

Then comes Montrose at home, and if anyone thought we’d run out of steam, they’re sorely mistaken. Connelly bags another hat-trick – his second in as many weeks – as we sweep them aside 3–0. The crowd? 586. The belief? Growing by the week.

Make that six wins in a row. Ross Ruickbie is suddenly a rock at the back and even scores a perfect ten in a 4–0 dismantling of Berwick.

Off the pitch, though, it’s not all sunshine and scones. The finances are in tatters. We’ve somehow only managed to lose £200,000 despite playing in front of crowds smaller than the average Tesco queue. Chairman Roy MacGregor isn’t happy – half the squad is transfer-listed, though it’s hard to imagine anyone queueing up for them.

His mood doesn’t improve when I’m handed the Division 3 Manager of the Month award. “Anyone can buy a league,” he mutters, which is rich coming from a man worth £110 million. I think about saying so, but discretion feels like the better part of employment.

I’d love to say that spurred us on, but the next trip to Hampden Park puts that notion to bed. We play like we’ve eaten deep-fried Mars bars for lunch, and Queens Park’s Arbuckle punishes us with the only goal. A 1–0 defeat and a long 180-mile drive home to think about our sins.

We’ll need to pick ourselves up quickly, because next up it’s the big one: league leaders Alloa at Victoria Park. A win could take us right into the promotion mix – and after the rollercoaster of recent weeks, who’d bet against us?

A big crowd (by our modest standards) of 868 turned out at Victoria Park, and they were treated to a proper old-school scrap. Trevor Steven put us ahead with yet another of those cultured right-foot finishes, before Alloa’s Valentine equalised from the spot late on. Just as we looked set for a frustrating draw, up stepped Gordon Connelly to smash home a 90th-minute winner. The place went wild — or at least as wild as a crowd of 868 in Dingwall can get.

That victory moves us to within a point of top spot, and suddenly the talk in the pubs around Dingwall isn’t about the weather or the A9, but about promotion.

The good news doesn’t last long. A fax comes through — Barnsley are sniffing around our young centre-back, Andrew Duncan. Two hundred and ten thousand pounds on the table. In Division 3 money, that’s like someone offering to buy your garden shed for a new car. Tempting, especially with Chairman Roy still grumbling about red figures.

Before I can even sit down with Roy to discuss it, we’re away to East Stirling, where only 150 spectators brave the cold to watch Connelly tear them apart. He helps himself to a hat-trick as we stroll to a 3–0 win.

Then the tribunal meets. It decides Barnsley’s offer isn’t enough — instead, they’ll pay £625,000. Just like that, our best young player is gone. A small fortune in Highland terms, but there’s a hole in the team sheet that money can’t fill.

Still, we go again. Albion Rovers visit Victoria Park, and it’s another grind. Mainwaring gets the only goal of the game and we hold on, just. It’s not pretty, but it puts us back on top.

For the first time, we’re top of the table.

Then Dumbarton happens. Five-three. It’s a shambles from start to finish. Every time we score, they go straight up the other end and do the same. The defence looks like it’s been carved from butter, and even Trevor Steven can’t bail us out this time.

The newly-installed revolving door keeps spinning. Jason Crowe packs his bags and joins Norwich for £120,000. Another solid player gone, another headache for me.

By the time Cowdenbeath roll into town, we’re running on fumes. Mainwaring scores in the first minute and we look set for an easy afternoon, but within twenty minutes the wheels fall off. Winter, Munro and Nolan tear us apart, Ferguson limps off, and to top it all, Haro puts through his own net. We lose 4–2 at home. It’s one of those days where the fans’ applause at full-time feels more like sympathy than support.

Despite it all, we’re still somehow in the title picture. Connelly keeps scoring, Steven keeps leading, and the crowd keeps turning up in ever-greater numbers. It’s messy, chaotic and utterly brilliant — exactly what lower-league football should be.

To shore up the Duncan-shaped hole in defence, we somehow pull off a coup — Radostin Kishishev, an actual capped Bulgarian international, joins for £10,000. He’s probably wondering how he’s gone from Sofia to a shed beside the A835, but we’re not complaining.

His stats look fantastic. Determination 19, Tackling 20, Strength 19. He’s basically a machine. The only catch is that he’s signed from a “local Bulgarian team,” which feels a bit like buying a car from a bloke behind a pub. Still, he’s here, and he’s ours.

His debut comes in a drab 1–1 draw against Arbroath — a game so dull the local paper accidentally forgets to cover it. Broddle scores, Scott equalises, and everyone goes home slightly colder than they arrived.

A week later, though, we’re back to winning ways at Montrose. Mainwaring and Broddle both score before the break, and we hang on for a tidy 2–1 away win. The attendance? 318 hardy souls — all delighted to have an excuse not to go Christmas shopping.

Just when it feels like we’re stabilising, there’s another twist — Stuart Golabek leaves for Everton. Yes, Everton. I can’t quite believe it either. A squad player with the stats of a PE teacher is now off to Goodison Park for £110,000. Maybe I’m the one doing this wrong.

Boxing Day brings a trip to Berwick, and it turns into a proper Christmas party. We go behind early but turn it around to win 3–2, with goals from Connelly and Wood sealing it. A long and boozy 250-mile drive home follows, punctuated by multiple stops for petrol, pies, and the occasional haggis.

Then, just as I’m starting to feel smug, the monthly awards roll in. Manager of the Month for Division 3? Not me. Not even Alloa’s boss. Somehow, it’s gone to the East Stirling manager — the same East Stirling who’ve spent the season getting battered every week.

On further investigation, it turns out they actually won their first league game in December and smashed a non-league team 6–0 in the cup. Fair play, SPFL, that’s probably a sympathy vote, but it’s hard to begrudge them a rare good month.

As the year ends, the table couldn’t be tighter. We’re second, level on points with Alloa, one behind Albion Rovers, and five clear of the pack. Every mistake could cost promotion, every late winner could change the season.

Come back next time to see if we can keep this Highland fling rocking into 1998.