So it's good-bye from him. And now good-bye from him… Times are a-changing.

So that's it, then. We ended up in a lowly 17th place and had nothing at all to play for on the final day.

Well, thank St Glenn (who should replace St Jude as the patron saint of lost causes) for that.

It's such a relief to have survived. It's no exaggeration to say that I'd become haunted by the prospect of falling through the trapdoor to League One.

The portents of doom seemed to be everywhere, from the voice in the lift at work taunting me with 'Going down' every evening to this clue in the Guardian crossword on the day of the West Brom game: 'Going further down, take a bit of food, concealing unfinished poem (10)'.

(Solution: relegation.)

I even started to hear mournful, wailing voices in my head ? though to be fair that was the recent Radiohead album on my iPod.

Looking back, I was probably worrying too much. After all, I didn't hear one 'Going down' chant when we went to Portman Road, which suggests that even the Town fans didn't really think it was likely.

But there's a part of me that's actually pleased I felt those gut-wrenching pangs of dread again. It means I'm getting my old passion for the game back.

I don't know whether it's been detectable in this column over the last two years, but I've felt a certain detachment from football since my Mum died in late 2003. Promotion that season and relegation the next left me? well, not cold exactly, but certainly not as euphoric or despondent as in the past.

For a long time, watching games at Carrow Road without her felt very strange, and I often felt as though I was just going through the motions.

But something seems to have happened over the last couple of months; something approaching the old intensity of feeling has finally resurfaced.

My theory is that the ups and downs of this season have given me a jolt and re-established the connection. A bit like giving a dodgy TV set a thump to get the picture back, if you like. Or you could say I've been rebooted.

I actually got a bigger kick out of seeing us secure our safety against QPR than when we won the league in 2004. And yes, I know that sounds ridiculous.

(I'm reminded of a classic episode of Roseanne in which Dan's ten-pin bowling team avoid finishing bottom of the league with the final ball in their final match and celebrate wildly, chanting 'We're not the worst!' and 'There's somebody worse than us!')

Avoiding relegation is a great achievement in the circumstances, though. After all, we did only have eight points when Roeder took over in November. (I'm surprised he doesn't mention that more often in interviews…)

One pundit on Five Live (I think) said around that time that 'Norwich have gone', and it was a question of which two teams would go down with us. To recover from that position in a season when over 50 points is needed for survival, and to do it with a game to spare, is far more than I could have hoped for back then.

The other great thing about the afternoon of the QPR game was seeing Dion lift the Barry Butler Trophy.

Of course, it's a bit of a worry that a 39-year-old in his final season should have been our best player. What does that say about the others?

(Anyone who ever saw me play will not be surprised to hear that I never won a Player of the Year trophy. However, I did come a close second on one occasion and had an acceptance speech lined up for my team-mates along the lines of: 'I have to thank the rest of you for making me look good; if any of you had had a half decent season, I wouldn't have got within a sniff of winning.')

But Dion's win was fully deserved for the impact he's made since being back at the club. There have been a few players in recent seasons that have, by common consent, been unfit to wear the shirt; in contrast, we have been absolutely privileged to have Dion.

I remember watching Look East years ago, just after Dion had been released by City and had scored a hat-trick on one of his first appearances for Cambridge United. The presenter said they'd had a letter from one of Dion's relatives asking them to show the goals again, as they'd missed them the first time they were screened. (The programme duly obliged.)

I got the distinct impression that the letter-writer was keen to see the hat-trick as they thought it might prove to be the highlight of Dion's career. If that was the thinking, it was gloriously wrong.

It has now been confirmed that we've also seen the last of Darren Huckerby in a City shirt, but I'll save a fuller appreciation of him for another column.

I understand the thinking behind the decision to release him, but I'd have given him a contract for another year. His performances over the last few weeks have shown that his old spark has returned.

And that's a wonderful thing.

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With our place in the Championship assured, the chief interest for what remains of the season is the question of which teams are going up and down.

My preferences tend to be based on which clubs are easiest for me to get to from London. Thus, it would be very handy if Fulham and Reading come down from the Premiership and Palace and Watford stay down.

Geographical proximity is of course the only reason I was happy to see Ipswich miss out on the play-offs. (Cough.) And at the bottom of the table, Southampton is far handier for me than Leicester, so that worked out well too.

As for the team coming up from League One with Swansea and Forest, I'm keeping my fingers crossed for Southend or Carlisle.

Carlisle? Oh yes.

My wife's mother and father live there, so I've got the conversation planned in my head already:

'You know, darling, we really don't see enough of your parents?'