When I first heard that Mark Robins had been sacked, my blood ran cold. It reminded me of when you hear that a friend or relative has died. Maybe an over-reaction, but that's how it felt. The death of something that had been a huge part of my life.
When Frank was appointed I greeted the news with a shrug. Partly because the appointment was teed up days in advance, partly because I assumed he would be another Chris Coleman type who says the right things but ends up being distinctly average. Clearly, I was wrong.
As the saying goes, hindsight is 20/20, and this appointment proved that. I now see it as akin to a relay race - Robins did the hard running, and once exhausted, he passed the baton onto Lampard to run the last 100 metres at full pelt.
And now, after so many year of pain and hurt and defeat, the gold medal is in sight.