IT'S not that long ago that cross-city sniggers and sneers were aimed from one York sporting venue to another.

Back in the days before York City was acquired by the fans and when York Rugby League Club was in its dying Wasps incarnation, there was an air of superiority that wafted haughtily from Bootham Crescent towards Huntington Stadium.

How a sporting transformation has been wrought in such a short time.

Even though York RLFC - now flying under a proud City Knights banner - failed at the death in their promotion push, their achievement in coming so far in such a short space of time has been little short of spectacular.

They may not have stashed the promotion they thoroughly deserved, but theirs has been an ascent in status, both on and off the field, that has gladdened the heart and rekindled the embers of an era when rugby league, rather than football, ruled the roost in the Minster city.

If ever there is a sporting example for the Minstermen to follow then it is that of the Knights. True to their name, they have ever been bold and valiant and totally adventurous on a quest to restore pride, passion and achievement to the best oval ball game there is.

Like City in their darkest days, a bedrock of supporters rallied to the cause to kick-start the club's renaissance. The crowds have flocked back, the feel-good factor has been phenomenal. The terraces - home and away - have chimed with how proud the fans are of their club.

But more than just raw commitment has underpinned the Knights' flight to undeniable well-being. Talent and ability has been harnessed from the backroom to the playing paddock, so much so that this week's grand final flop should not rip apart the club as some might initially fear.

Yes, there may well be a crestfallen feeling at the last-ditch downfall against Halifax in the hoodoo-land of Widnes. And there will be the nagging feeling as to how the players' collective psyche will have been damaged by such a morale-mauling reverse.

But even with the loss of inspirational coach Richard Agar to Super League Hull FC for next season, the recently-announced tie-up between the Knights and top-flight titans Leeds Rhinos bodes impressively for the Huntington Stadium crew.

Again, the Knights did not wait for things to happen, they were positively pro-active. They spied, identified and hired a replacement for the outgoing Agar in Mick Cook, and in so doing ensured that the axis with their nearest Super League neighbours reinforced the York club's capability to at least go one better than this season's runners-up conclusion.

For this observer the resurrection of the Knights mirrors the way Rugby League is proving such a powerful alternative to professional football, particularly when contrasting the respective elite divisions of both sports.

The Super League this season has been one passion-crammed encounter after another and is destined to culminate into a classic climax this Saturday night when the Rhinos take on world club champions and West Yorkshire arch-adversaries Bradford Bulls in the grandest and last-man standing of Grand Finals.

All through the season the Super League powers have gone at each other with proverbial hammer and tong, yet amid all the maelstrom of sheer physical combat match officials and their decisions are respected and hardly ever challenged. No bulging veins in foreheads and necks, no streams of invective to make Gordon Ramsay blush, and no rent-a-crowd mobbing of the referee in the 13-a-side game.

And if anyone wanted further evidence of the tiresome nature of upper-class football. Witness witless England captain David Beckham in the late exchanges of Saturday's World Cup duel against Wales.

Injured in a 50-50 tackle with left-back Ben Thatcher, Beckham indulged in a cowardly challenge on the defender in an attempt at revenge that was as puny as it was pitiful. Maybe it's football that deserves our thud, fret and sneers.

Updated: 09:02 Tuesday, October 12, 2004