It shouldn't need recapping to any observer of the Premiership why a result (preferably a win) against Stoke on Saturday was vital to our chances of avoiding the drop. A relegation six-pointer with no game for the next two weeks due to the international break: a loss would have been (and was) catastrophic.

The aftermath of the match saw any number of "Southgate out!" cries on amongst the fans, whether on the buses home, the pubs afterwards or on any number of online message boards, although this was far from the worst performance we've seen recently. Stoke have a solid home record and have beaten a list of teams better than us there. This was arguably the toughest of our "must-wins".

That feeling is back. The optimism of wins against West Ham and Liverpool has rapidly dried up, and a fortnight after we looked to be turning the proverbial corner, Boro are back to scraping draws in the must-win games.

In the aftermath of the result I ran into my housemate, who had an expression almost as gloomy as mine. He's one of those poor misguided souls who follow rugby instead of football, and also a self-declared Welshman, despite being born in England. He'd been watching the Six Nations match between Wales and Italy, which he declared "disappointing".

So we're out of the cup. I suppose it had to end somewhere, and did it really matter whether it was on Sunday at Goodison or at Wembley where we would run into the juggernaut that is Man United?

I'm sure every Boro fan wanted to be in the semi-final draw but, as Gareth Southgate said after the match, it would have been a bonus.

It was a battling performance from Boro and Everton needed a lot of character to beat us, which gives us some small measure of pride in defeat. This was neither Spurs-like rout nor a toothless surrender like we've often seen this season. I said previously that Everton were a team lacking a bit of invention and that was true - especially in the first half - but their league position shows they're still a very good team even with so many missing players. When Louis Saha came on they had an extra dimension and with the crowd behind them they had too much for us.

Here we are again: another entry and another massive emotional contrast to the last one. It's probably getting boring to read and it's certainly heart-rending to write about.

I wrote in my previous entry that we needed to maintain the momentum built up by wins over West Ham and Liverpool by getting something against Tottenham. It turns out we didn't even get a performance. Although we actually managed more shots than Spurs the only one that went in was an offside effort from Tuncay, and a defence that I have been praising for its solidity was smashed to pieces by Robbie Keane, Aaron Lennon and the other members of Spurs' ludicrously expensive forward line. It was, in short, a capitulation.

It has felt slightly ridiculous these last couple of weeks as the tone of this blog has veered from optimism to despair and lurched back through the gears again. But that’s football. You can write whatever you want about it, but sometimes the most finely wrought prose or acute, piercing insight just will not capture it.

Right now it feels almost futile sitting down and typing up this match, because only a week ago I was saying the exact opposite and next week I'll probably be saying something different again. That's the essence of football and that's why we love it, why we hold our heads in our hands and wonder why we turn up, and then why we punch the air and wonder what we'd ever do without it.