'Suddenly, it's legitimate to hope for more' ... The David Rawson Rotherham United Fan Column

I like the way it nestles into its surroundings, rather than towering over the terraced houses and narrow streets. I like the way it's bigger inside than it looks from the outside. I like the way it's an authentic football ground, not a stadium.

I've always liked Oakwell, but I've never enjoyed myself there.

Mostly, this has been because we've been rubbish. See, for example, the utter surrender under Alan Stubbs, a humbling so complete as to be effectively the end of his managerial career.

Sometimes, we've been the victim of rampant injustice – okay, on one occasion we were the victim of rampant injustice from one specific referee – and had to trudge away seething with fury. I mean. Deon Burton got sent off for being fouled, Lee Williamson got sent off for slipping and I still don't believe their goal actually ever went in. It still makes me angry to think about it, even today.

What we've definitely not been is remotely fortunate. Or winners.

Until now.

Were we slightly fortunate to win? Maybe. They were better than us, first half. The second half was fairly even until we scored.

Do I care? Obviously not.

This was a classic ‘first goal winner’ game. And we scored first. And it was terrifically well hit. And they didn't. And that's that.

From nowhere, we're on a real, genuine run of positive results. Despite not playing anything like as well as I think we could. Or actually having our actual first 11 on the pitch at any point in the season so far.

I still don't think we can take our eyes off what's below us in the table, but I do think we can start, for the first time, looking at what's above us with a bit of optimism.

Because we're improving.

We're losing some of our early-season meekness, gaining some self-belief. Dan Gore and Kian Spence are determined scrappers these days, as well as having technique and skills. Joe Rafferty's clear delight in spoiling opposition attacking play is infecting his fellow defenders. The song refers to Sam Nombe, but more and more League One central defenders are finding Jordan Hugill in their heads and clouding their judgement.

Meanwhile, Matt Hamshaw is tweaking, shifting, adapting. At Oakwell, Conor Hourihane made substitutions, but kept dogmatically to the pre-conceived game-plan, even as it showed less and less signs of working. Hamshaw adjusted personnel, roles, shape. The emerging gaffer in the away dugout bested the head coach in the home one.

In truth, the squad is probably too thin to be a real contender at the top of the division. It's still more likely to be a season of establishing a culture than anything else.

But, suddenly, it's legitimate to hope for more. That makes a pleasant change.

As, of course, does leaving Barnsley with three hard-earned points.