IT is a shame the Inland Revenue has taken such an uncompromising stance on York City's finances. The taxman is in danger of becoming quite unpopular.

He should already plan for a reduced Christmas card yield from City fans.

My colleague Tony Kelly eloquently expressed supporters' fury with last night's observation that "not even the exploits of Dick Turpin could have surpassed your grasping digits".

The revenue's demand for 63p in the pound as part of the creditors' agreement very nearly sent the club to the wall. It is not the heartlessness of the demand which shocks; after all, this bunch would slap VAT on mother's milk if their political masters allowed it.

It is the inconsistency. As Tony pointed out, other clubs with similar debts have been allowed to pay the revenue substantially less: Leicester City 10p in the pound, Barnsley 35p.

A glance at the IR's recent shenanigans suggests we should not be too surprised, however. This is an organisation which can only be relied upon to be unreliable.

While labouring to squeeze the last drop out of honest little York City, the taxman has made little effort to run down the fraudsters, for instance. On a budget of £5.7 billion, tax credit investigators only saved Britain £15 million according to a National Audit Office report last month.

The auditors also noted that the Inland Revenue preferred to lean on small traders rather than big business.

That figures. Only last year it was revealed how massive multinational corporations were being let off millions of pounds in penalties for fraud by the revenue.

Despite taking so much of our money, the taxman remains strangely unaccountable. He is able to push York City to the brink and remain in blissful anonymity behind a London desk.

As a result, the local football fan is left feeling powerless.

So, in the spirit of civil disobedience as promoted by peace campaigners last week, here is a list of ten things to do to annoy the taxman (reduced to 7.1 things after tax).

1. Declare Bootham Crescent an offshore haven. This should work wonders. Some of Britain's wealthiest people, including the owner of Fulham FC, Mohamed Al Fayed, have saved themselves a fortune in tax by registering their expensive homes as belonging to offshore trusts. (Someone local may know how to use legal loopholes to change the ownership of a football ground. Any names spring to mind?)

2. Send in your next tax payment on one of those giant cheques created for donations to telethons.

3. Write to ask if the acronym PAYE on your payslip stands for People Abiding York Exempt.

4. Tell them you have bought a personalised National Insurance number off a bloke in a pub and it is now: 0-4U.

5. Barter. Offer to pay for your next tax demand with the contents of your potting shed added to whatever's left in the fridge on the night before your big supermarket shop.

6. Say sorry, you're skint at the moment, but suggest these other ways of raising the shortfall: a tax on Spanish golfers (the Seve levy); a tax on Oscar night speeches (the luvvie levy); and a tax on York's unclean public toilets (the lavvy levy).

7. Pose as an advertising executive with a brief to rebrand the Inland Revenue. Suggest they replace the lion and unicorn on their crest with something more appropriate; a vampire bat and leech, perhaps.

7.1 Reveal that the job title 'tax inspector' is an anagram for 'rat insect pox'.

Updated: 10:38 Wednesday, March 26, 2003