Tim Allman, Capital Canaries I've always been a pessimistic City supporter. After Wes' penalty thumped against the bar at the Cuckoo Farm mud bath and he expertly tucked the disallowed rebound away, I was still worrying that we would mess it up somehow.

Tim Allman, Capital Canaries

I've always been a pessimistic City supporter. After Wes' penalty thumped against the bar at the Cuckoo Farm mud bath and he expertly tucked the disallowed rebound away, I was still worrying that we would mess it up somehow. I didn't think we would score at Wycombe and I would have taken a draw at half time against Brentford and also against Walsall. And don't get me started about Exeter. I was worrying all week if the game would even be on.

A month and five league wins after our wasted journey to Walsall all my worries needn't have been worries at all as City have won five on the spin, and with victory over Hartlepool on Saturday it could be six wins in a month. Eighteen league points in January is enough for two Manager of the Month awards.

Just as a bad team (Norwich City FC last season) finds different ways to lose a game, we now seem to be finding various ways of winning a game and each victory has been very different.

At Wycombe we dominated the game, and could have easily been four goals to the good before that mad five minutes in the second half. It was getting more than a little tense in the away end as Holt had one cleared off the line, Wycombe hit the post, and finally Korey Smith tucked the ball away in the 77th minute. Other highlights of the day were having my picture taken with Captain Canary, getting hit by John-Paul Pitman's wayward shot in the first half, and having to wait an hour in the freezing cold for the park and ride bus after the game. It arrived just as the post match glow of victory was starting to wear off.

Gemma and I were two of the nineteen hundred City fans in the away end at Colchester. Who knows how many were in the home end? At a guess I would say at least seven hundred and fifty, and maybe even one thousand. Each time I bump into a City fan I'm told that they and some mates sat in silence and watched City dance through the puddles and demolish our wannabe local rivals. One of the Capital Canaries was sitting in the corner and took all sorts of stick from the Yellow Army close by. Another pal was in the end opposite and said that it was one of the most difficult things he has done for ages, keeping quiet as the City goals literally rained in.

As I set off for the Exeter game, I questioned my own sanity in trying to get to a potentially snow-bound game in another part of the country. Why not stay at home and listen to Neil and Chris on the radio? Was it dedication or madness going to that game? I'm glad I did as the trains were great. Well they were nearly great. The doors on the train from London had frozen in the cold, we were late leaving Kings Cross and we almost missed our connection at Cambridge. We only just made it as we had phoned ahead to our fellow travellers to ask the guard and driver if they wouldn't mind holding the train as our connection time was around 30 seconds. They did and if anyone wondered why the 11.10 was five minutes late at Norwich it was due to the good nature of the National Express staff. And the game? Nothing much to write home about really; another three goals and the three points were never really in danger after Grant Holt's early header.

Brentford was a special day. City won it with ten men, we had colossal performances all over the pitch, and a brilliant strike from Chris Martin. We sit in the corner of the River End Upper and were looking right at the shot that flashed across the goal in the last couple of minutes. Well, I was sort of looking at it, with my hands in front of my face fearing the worst. It was a day that I won't forget in a while and reminded me how we won against Derby in the Championship season when a twice taken Iwan Roberts penalty and a late goal from Fr Paul Mulryne stole the points.

I wasn't allowed to go to Walsall as I had to work which was a shame. It was the first game I had missed for a few weeks, so I had to make do with the commentary, and a few glasses of wine to ease the nerves and temper the pessimism. As Cody's shot flashed in on eighty five minutes, the cheers rang out from the City faithful in Kenton as another three points were on their way back to Carrow Road.

I go to games now thinking that our run is bound to come to an end soon. Colchester was the game but we walked it. Brentford was after the Lord Mayor's show, but City won and Walsall was the Lord Mayor's show after the Lord Mayor's show, but somehow the team keep on surprising me and finding new ways to win a game.

It's been an amazing January.