After all the waiting, the rumours, the hot tips from those 'in the know' and all the celebrity gossip, Big Brother finally invited Martin Hinshelwood into the Diary Room.

An invitation that came squeakily close to the end of what's been a seriously weird close season.

It would have been even weirder if Steve Coppell had got the job, mind. The other 'dead certs', Tony Adams, Danny Wilson and the linguistically challenged Cameroon manager, would have been interesting choices. Although if the latter had sent the lads on to the pitch in those nifty little lycra vests, it's a merciful blessing that Warren Aspinall has gone on to better things.

But how could any self-respecting Brighton fan stand up - sorry Mr Perry, I meant to say Sit Down Properly - to greet Mr Coppell with anything other than the traditional, time honoured greeting about his health? Loyal support is one thing, needing a soapy mouthwash is another and his appointment would have resulted in a very tasteless dilemma.

If football is about anything, though, it's about traditions and I'm a great fan of them even though you've got to put them into perspective. In the days of the Great Trek to Gillingham, it was absolutely essential to get off the train at Haywards Heath for the 'traditional' breakfast of two teas, two hot chocolates, one coffee and five Danish pastries. If the station buffet couldn't come up with the goods then the whole day was doomed.

That we lost most games anyway was absolutely no excuse for letting traditional standards go by the board. When we got to Withdean, a whole new set of equally barmy traditions set in and they seemed to work their magic this time around.

Are we in danger of being bewitched by all this magic, though?

Two Championship-winning seasons, the City Council's support for Falmer and a centenary year of celebrations were all heady delights. But is there a danger that this culture of success has become so traditional that the team are expected to conjure up the same magic this year?

Division One is going to be a serious challenge and even the eternal optimists are going to have to get a grip on reality. We've got a good Championship winning side, but it's still a Second Division Championship winning team and we're going to be playing with some very Big Boys now.

Getting our feet under the table early and settling down nicely in mid table is going to be a realistic measure of success and one that the team can be proud of. Unfortunately, when you've been up there with the Stars, it's difficult to accept anything less without assuming that the Gutter is beckoning invitingly.

The close season Prophets of Doom have certainly swarmed out of their gutters recently and on certain internet message boards the lunatics have been taking over the asylum, helped no doubt by this strange mixed-up sort of close season of highs, lows and downright don't knows.

There has been some welcome relief provided by the pre-season friendlies and it was nice to see OGH back on his feet again. Although I'm not convinced that the Ginger Prince should have let Beckham's barber persuade him that blondes always have more fun.

At long last, the charms of Burnley are beckoning and the travelling blue and white striped army are on the march. "Division One, here we come!" we said triumphantly as we hailed the Championes just a few months back and now the day of reckoning has arrived. So let's hope that in all the confusion, Big Brother didn't get mixed up in the Diary Room because I really don't want to discover we've got Jade in the dugout.

August 10, 2002