Previous times City have been relegated - and it's happened quite a few times in my life - I can remember being honestly, utterly devastated.

The first time in my lifetime, admittedly when I was seven, was enough to make me decide I was a Liverpool fan for a few years - and it was only when my dad splashed out on season tickets about four years later that I saw the light.

Other times I was utterly foul company for the remainder of the day, even week.

CHRIS SUTTON: City's approach to Premier League must change

One occasion I was in Newcastle on the night that Sunderland sent both us and the Magpies down and the evening degenerated into a night of red wine and wallowing in mutual self-pity - with a sprinkling of gallows humour about looking forward to Burton for good measure.

This time? I pretty much felt nothing.

Don't get me wrong, I've been feeling pretty glum about football for near enough the whole season, so I'm not totally numb to what has been a grim season.

But once relegation was confirmed thanks to a swift seven-minute turnaround from Burnley at equally doomed Watford, the full time whistle provoked a similar reaction from me than you would get if I went to the supermarket and discovered they were out of runner beans. I should point out at this stage that there are few food products I am more indifferent to than runner beans.

For weeks now, relegation has felt utterly, utterly inevitable. Pulling no punches, ever since we lost to Brentford we've been sleepwalking there.

There was a fair bit of chat about the word 'apathy', with boss Dean Smith clearly not agreeing that people don't care - and he's right, we do care.

Perhaps apathy isn't the right word in the most literal definition of the word - perhaps numbness would be better.

For weeks I've been joking about the warm embrace of relegation - that it's an escape from everything rotten about the Premier League, and believe me, there is so much rotten about England's top flight.

Really though, even with all of its nasty drawbacks - the financially rich and morally poor owners, the teams with more monetary value on their benches than our starting lineup, the starstruck referees who put their whistles to their mouth the minute Cristiano Ronaldo bats his eyelids, to name just a few - it is where you want to be.

But exiting it this time though has just left me feeling numb.

Perhaps if it had happened under slightly more dramatic circumstances I would have felt a bit more, but if I were to describe my reaction to the confirmation in gif form, it probably would have been that one of Alan Partridge shrugging.

And the fact I've found myself feeling this way in a weird way, hurts more than the relegation itself.

I honestly don't think I've really felt this indifferent about a Norwich side since Chris Hughton took a dynamic side that had just risen through the leagues and turned it into peak Stoke City. This is part of the reason I've decided to make this my last season as a regular columnist - though I may pop up now and again with random thoughts here and there.

Don't get me wrong, I'm sure if we have an exciting transfer window with a few interesting new arrivals and piece a few early wins together I'll start to feel the spark again - and absence makes the heart grow fonder - but I now just want to see the back of this torrid season.

I'm struggling to muster the enthusiasm to even attend the last two home games, they almost feel like a chore.

What these final four games should now become is the opportunity to experiment and blood players that will actually be prepared for the fight next season.

For me, there is no real point whatsoever in fielding Billy Gilmour and Matthias Normann for example - neither will be here next season and neither have done enough to warrant being given a swan song. Brandon Williams, again won't be here but has at least shown pride in wearing the shirt, so I'd be happy for him to get a farewell.

But really, the end of the season has to be treated as a crash test for next season - the chance for Dean Smith to experiment with different set-ups and personnel to start plotting the route back next season. They are free hits.

Quite often you do find that once a team is officially relegated, they begin to suddenly play with freedom and I think we all need that to happen.

If I was Dean Smith, I'd certainly be putting out a much-changed team against West Ham on Sunday, if only to see what some of the fringe players can do, particularly those who could potentially have important roles to play next season.

I don't necessarily expect wholesale changes to the squad, partly because the season has been so terrible it is tough to see who the vultures will actually circle over.

I imagine Max Aarons will finally get his move away, it having felt inevitable that he would be off every window for about the last three.

Teemu Pukki can once again go down knowing he has made a good account of himself and will likely win Player of the Season - but his future seems to have been settled.

There may also be some movement of fringe players, but really who else is going to have suitors queuing around the block for them?

Whatever happens over the summer though, it is more than just the confidence of the players that needs rebuilding - it's the joy that comes with being a Norwich City fan. At the minute, I'm not feeling much.

Player of the season has to be Teemu

When you get to the end of an awful season it can sometimes feel a bit hollow to name a player of the season.

I can't actually picture how it feels for a player to win the trophy at an end of the season that very little was achieved - it can't quite feel as special as being named the best of the best in a triumphant season.

I remember a year ago it did feel fairly obvious who had to win the Barry Butler Memorial Trophy - despite a strong case for Ollie Skipp it absolutely had to be Emi.

While it can be tough to choose a winner after a brilliant season, it can be equally hard to choose the best of a bad bunch.

This season it has to be Teemu Pukki for me.

Hitting double figures in the Premier League full stop is no mean feat, but doing so in one of the most goal-shy sides to grace to top flight in recent memory is something else.

But even when he's cut an isolated figure he's run his socks off to try and make things happen when others in his position may have sulked. That deserves rewarding.