The club had endured a roller coaster ride for many years, but those adventures were miniscule compared to the unfolding drama on the day when the club died, and was then resuscitated in dramatic fashion.

Every Darlo fan watched Twitter, Darlo Uncovered, various news channels and listened to BBC Tees — some did the lot — and endured some highs and lows.

Mark Drury was on duty for BBC Tees outside the Arena that day, and he recalled the most dramatic day in the club’s history for the book “In the Dying Seconds.”

I expected 18 January 2012 to be a busy day, but I never thought it would become one of the most dramatic days of my working life.

I went to work at BBC Tees that morning knowing I was going to be despatched to the Arena to report on what we expected to be the final decision on the future of Darlington Football Club.

The announcement from administrator Harvey Madden was due to be delivered at noon and I expected to be reporting live from a press conference inside the ground and then speaking to Harvey Madden and Craig Liddle about what we hoped would be the club’s survival, but as seemed more likely, could well have been the end of professional football in Darlington.

It was a day when all preconceived ideas went out of the window and I just had to react to the most ridiculous set of circumstances and go along for the ride.

Early on in proceedings, things didn’t look too good for the Quakers. Craig Liddle arrived at the ground at around 11am and told me he had been feeling positive, but wasn’t now. He trudged into reception with the resigned look of a condemned man.

[caption id="attachment_16203" align="alignnone" width="298"] Craig Liddle at Darlo's last game of the season.[/caption]

Over the course of the next hour squad members started to arrive and made their way into the ground, along with Harvey Madden, who didn’t say anything on arrival, just marched in, briefcase in hand.

As 12 o’clock approached, twitter messages began to appear from inside the meeting, as I was live on BBC Tees. Tweets saying, “It’s gone, the club has gone” and “The man who said he wouldn’t kill us just has” signified the end of the road had been reached. I started interviewing some of the fans who had gathered to hear the news and then watched as one of them laid his scarf down in front of the stadium doors.

Players started leaving the stadium and I spoke to Paul Arnison, who, unsurprisingly, didn’t know what he was going to do with his future.

At this point, the world went silly.

As Andrea MacMillan read the midday news on BBC Tees, telling the region about the apparent death of the Quakers, a car screamed up to the stadium, two men jumped out and ran straight for the reception doors shouting, “He can’t do this, we’ve got the money!”.

I recognised Doug Embleton and Shaun Campbell as the men in question and started shouting down the line to the studio, “Come back to me, now”!

A startled Andrea had to hurriedly abandon her bulletin as John Foster, who had just gone on air with his show, handed back to me at the stadium, where I introduced Doug Embleton, who was telling the assembled reporters that they had a briefcase full of money, which would give Harvey Madden more time to find a buyer for the club.

I told Doug and Shaun that they were too late as Harvey Madden had already wound the club up, but they said they would demand to see him and what difference would going half an hour past the deadline make?

The staff inside the stadium had seen the commotion outside and were probably listening to the whole conversation being broadcast live on BBC Tees, so they let Doug and Shaun in, to cheers from the fans.

So began a bizarre waiting game, as a club that had already been pronounced dead was offered an unlikely, if short term, lifeline.

Around half an hour later Doug and Shaun emerged and announced Harvey Madden had agreed to meet them at a secret location to discuss the possibility of extending the deadline for liquidating the club.

Moments after they left, Harvey Madden made his way into the car park. I asked him how he could discuss saving a club he’d already liquidated and he replied that another hour or so wouldn’t make any difference, as long as there was a chance of saving the club. He wouldn’t say where the secret meeting was to be held (after all, it wouldn’t have been much of a secret then would it?) and left the stadium, along with a posse of reporters and other interested parties.

I stayed at the Arena and phoned the BBC Tees News Editor Steve Mackey, telling him the meeting was at Blackwell Grange Hotel (I’d been tipped off by one of the people going to the meeting) and settled down to catch my breath and wait for Harvey Madden’s return.

In the meantime Steve sent our Darlington reporter Jonathan Swingler to Blackwell Grange, while John Foster and Paul Addison tried to make sense of events back in the BBC Tees studio.

Not all the first team players had left by this point and the majority stayed to find out if they had a future after all. One player decided he didn’t. A tearful Aaron Brown left the stadium and gave me one of the most emotional interviews I’ve ever done as he said how he couldn’t keep living on an emotional rollercoaster, 250 miles away from his pregnant girlfriend. He wanted to stay, but couldn’t handle it anymore. With that, he left, with a tearful backward glance at the Arena he’d called home.

As the meeting at Blackwell Grange dragged on, the youth team players arrived at the Arena in two rasping engine Corsas to receive the news of their futures (they didn’t have much of one, sadly) and left shortly afterwards.

A bemused looking Craig Liddle popped out at one point and said he didn’t have a clue what was going on any more and had given up trying to work it out, before leaving to go and get some lunch.

Around two hours later, Doug and Shaun returned to announce Harvey Madden had agreed to give the club a four week stay of execution, thanks to the money the fans had provided. Cue celebrations from the assembled fans.

A short while later Harvey Madden returned and spoke briefly to the press, telling us this was a stay of execution and everything depended on the money that could be raised from the forthcoming home games if the club were to see out the season.

Craig Liddle then spoke to me, saying it was the most incredible day of his life, but he was looking forward picking a team for that Saturday’s game. I asked if he would have to register himself? He replied that things were bad, but not that bad.

Last to leave the stadium was Harvey Madden. For the second time that afternoon I had to interrupt Andrea’s news bulletin. Madden told me he’d never known a day like it and in all his time as an administrator had never dealt with anything approaching the extremes of emotion he’d witnessed since arriving that morning.

[caption id="attachment_16202" align="alignnone" width="300"] Administrator Harvey Madden[/caption]

He quipped that it was no wonder he was grey and then repeated his warning that this was a temporary stay of execution.

All that was left for me to do was try and explain to Neil Green and the BBC Tees listeners making their way home from work at 5 o’clock, just what had been happening at The Arena that day.

It was a day of high adrenaline, improvisation and pure drama. Professionally speaking it was the most rewarding day of my life and more importantly, it was a day that saw a football club of more than a century’s standing die and then be resurrected.

A ridiculous, wonderful day and one that I will never forget.