For anyone looking below Manchester United and Chelsea this season, there was plenty to see.

I came into Voiceoffootball, in November 2006, thus: “Saying supporters don’t care or don’t understand football business or that it’s not their business anyway is, at best, lazy generalisation.”

Off-field events since have enforced a business education on fans, plus an ethical and political one.

David Conn’s Guardian column has inspired thought-provoking and thought-through responses on subjects from the faux-socialistic principles behind FC United of Manchester (FCUM) to the political machinations of Thailand’s economically divided society.

And the desire to get to the truths behind the billion-pound investments into top-class football has increased amongst fans and journalists alike. Harry Harris’ analyses of West Ham, for instance – Tevez AND the risky Magnusson buy-out (with club-threatening small print and really funded by pre-1991 crook Björgólfur Gudmundsson) – have been grade one investigative journalism.

Private Eye’s coverage is largely inspired by its anti-Fayed agenda, but recently they were able to devote their two-page ‘In the City’ column entirely to football. Celebrating the forthcoming six hundred millionth pound of Abramovich investment in Chelsea (self-financing still a dream). Scrutinising the six hundred million less pounds of Gaydamak investment in Portsmouth. A bit about someone in Leeds called Bates. A lot about Thaksin Shinawatra (an ‘Eye’ target since before his long-forgotten days as a ‘lifelong’ Liverpool fan).

And Fayed too. Tracking his mutation into Robert Maxwell, shuffling millions annually around his businesses to keep Fulham afloat. Even Shinawatra said ‘noh’ when Fayed offered Fulham – the two unsurprisingly have business connections.

Meanwhile, the aforementioned FCUM have been accused by the intelligentsia - as their on-field success generates more filthy lucre - of becoming the Manchester United of the North West Counties League they comprehensively won this season. Without, naturally, the Glazer debt which inspired the entire enterprise.

But if their success has offended more idealistic sensibilities, the publicity engendered has reminded people of United’s debts – one successful season merely papering over cracks formed when they went from Champions League group to out of Europe entirely in December 2005.

The glory of winning the Premiership title would once have masked concerns, and excused next season’s exorbitant admission hikes at the Theatre of Debts. Not now.

AFC Wimbledon have stagnated on the field after consecutive play-off failures, but they’ve appointed Terry Brown as manager, who took similarly re-born Aldershot from Wimbledon’s current position to the brink of the Football League the Shots left in financial ignominy in 1991.

Brown has already signed ex-Dons star Marcus Gayle, the second player to turn out for both South London Wimbledons. The first, Jermaine Darlington, cost them the 18 points (and lucrative FA Trophy progress) they gained whilst fielding him without international clearance.

Their campaign against that punishment got it reduced to three points and was supporter-organisation at its magnificent best – a world away from the “XXXX-out” nihilism which has so dominated and disfigured the genre. Politically astute, disciplined, intelligent, persuasive.

Yet it was widely unpopular, disparagingly portrayed by rival fans as ‘money talking’. The sort of ‘big club favouritism’ levelled at the authorities. Wimbledon are “too big for their boots” they cry, with which ex-chairman Kris Stewart agreed: “We’re a League Two club in Ryman League boots.” Resentment lingers from their early barnstorming success and purchase of another club’s ground, reducing Ryman League Kingstonian to tenants, like the Dons themselves after they left Plough Lane (worse still for Kingstonian, in what used to be their own home).

Old rivalries and jealousies abound, then – although critics of Wimbledon’s ground-buying have a more solid base. But in the main this season, supporters have earned greater respect for their views than ever before.

Justice came to Dagenham and Redbridge. Boston United’s relegation met with little sympathy. Having a convicted criminal as manager did less than wonders for their PR (Steve Evans resigning this week was the ultimate in stable door-shutting after horse-bolting), especially when his crimes included the tax fraud which materially helped their promotion in 2002. At Dagenham’s expense. That the clubs have swapped places shows that justice, like Guinness, can come to those who wait.

Calls for better TV punditry have had minimal effect, but on Match of the Day last month, Alan Shearer produced the rule book of which pundits often display ignorance to correctly explain why an Ole-Gunnar Solskjaer goal was disallowed.

Whatever the opposite is of ‘making the telephone directory sound interesting’, Shearer is it. Meanwhile, Alan Green still wastes taxpayers money on a Millennium Dome scale, and David Pleat’s world ‘mispronouncing players’ names’ record attempt continues apace (‘Purlo’ had an outstanding season with Milan). Still, progress of sorts.

New favourites have emerged for the 2010 World Cup. Providing the necessary international qualification rule changes are made, allowing players to represent the country where their club is owned, the competition will be a shoe-in for... the British Virgin Islands. The Islands must be the world’s only tourist attraction that can double up as an industrial estate, so many clubs have registered offices there. If I ever holiday in the Caribbean, that’s where I’ll be, and I’ll make sure to get a plane seat next to Bates, Fayed et al. We’d have SO much to discuss.

And there an end. To the season AND Voiceoffootball. Sadder about the latter, naturally. I’m grateful to all at VOF for the opportunity to fling my ill-conceived opinions your way. Less importantly (well...), it’s got me a paid weekly column gig. Not enough for a British Virgin Islands holiday, but it’s a start, and I’ll remember you all when I’m famous (and that goes for thingummy, whatshername...).

And with or without VOF, don’t worry any of you I’ve mentioned in my columns (and any others) who have served themselves ahead of football and its fans. We’ll get you in the end.