Who the bloody hell is that? said the bloke next to me, as Steve Finney's name was read out over the tannoy before the game - unaware that he had signed from Manchester City. With twenty minutes left, he made the trip to the decrepit Boothferry Park worthwhile - even if we did have to resort to drinking those awful squash drinks that you pierce the lids with a straw - the snack bars running out of drinks on a scorching hot August afternoon.