What a relief it was to get back to winning ways on Saturday.

After the disappointment of the Leyton Orient match and our recent slide down the table, beating Stockport County was a must for the sake of the team’s confidence and my sanity.

Yet, as pleased as I am about the result, I also realise we must not get too carried away.

No disrespect (are you sure? Ed) but Stockport County were utterly woeful.

The Hatters should have come into the game in the same mindset as us, thinking they had a great chance of picking up three points against a side on a poor run, but, instead, they played one up front and hoped for the best.

It wasn’t until we took the lead that they showed any attacking intent whatsoever and, by then, it was too late.

I shouldn’t be complaining, though. Brentford were in desperate need of a win and Stockport gaffer Gary Ablett, a man whose tactical acumen appears to be inversely proportionate to the size of his Adam’s apple, did us a big favour.

The match was reminiscent of some of the one-sided affairs we witnessed at Griffin Park last season, when we cantered to wins against dross such as Chester, Grimsby and Accrington Stanley.

Perhaps I should go easy on these dreadful teams and concentrate on excentuating the positives of the Bees’ performances.

But that would be no fun at all, particularly as one of my cheap digs has got me noticed in the latest issue of the esteemed publication, Derek I’m Gutted, a fanzine dedicated to Port Vale.

It is heartening to know this paper’s readership spreads to the Midlands but it seems the good people of the Potteries weren’t too happy about me slagging off their beloved team or their weird backer, Robbie Williams, last season.

In retaliation, the fanzine cruelly dubbed me a “poncy London hack”.

As if that wasn’t upsetting enough, they also got the name of the paper wrong.

With the economy still looking shakier than Alan Bennett’s defending, the Times needs all the free advertising it can get, so for it to be mistakenly referred to as the mythical West London Gazette is most disappointing.

My long-term ambition as a journalist has always been to make it into the pages of Private Eye but, as that is pie in the sky at the moment, an appearance in Derek I’m Gutted is not a bad consolation prize.