I drove around for ages, it turns out that public pitches aren't so easy to find in Brighton. Eventually, I settled for a park that resembled a football pitch laid on the sea itself, I would probably have been as well running in the Channel. Far from perfect, but at least there was grass. I tried to make the most of it and laid my cones out in preparation for some running drills. Similar to many of the trials that I had been on up to that point, it was a bit of a non-event. It was the type of pitch where instead of painting white lines, there were mud tracks outlining what I can only presume was the perimeter, with one goalpost two yards higher than the other. Needless to say, it was one of the more depressing outings as the conditions made it difficult to carry out a worthwhile kind of session which was normally the only positive that I could take from my days. Particularly when the biggest challenge was stopping the dogs on their morning jaunt from nabbing my equipment. With another run ticked off, we drove back north to the interim surroundings that had become our home.

The next day I went back to the park that I had got to know well and on the Wednesday I got the call asking me to go and train at York City. Jackie McNamara had recently taken over as manager. He had achieved success in Scotland and I had friends who had worked under him before who spoke highly of his methods. It was an exciting opportunity. It was late on the Wednesday night when I was asked if I could make it to training the next day. I jumped at the chance and said I would head up straight away. Four hours my satnav displayed, getting me there a little after midnight. I said my goodbyes again and hit the road. They had booked me a hotel, a good sign and a gesture that I certainly wasn't accustomed to. The manager had known me from my time in Scotland which as a Scottish player trying to find a club in England always helps. Scottish players trying to make their way down there often face the barrier that, until proven otherwise, its automatically just assumed that your sh*t as mentioned in one of my previous blogs, excuse the French. I trained well for a couple of days and signed a short term contract on the Friday afternoon. I was over the moon and it was a massive weight off my mind, even though the real hard work was about to start. I had waited all that time for an opportunity to stay in England after a difficult spell at Gillingham and I had a good feeling about it. On the pitch the club were in freefall somewhat but I was confident things would turn around. The initial contract I signed was enough to see me by for the next month. Even as a small sized community club in League Two there were other players comfortably on five to ten times my salary but I didn’t care. I was very grateful for the opportunity and on a footballing front, it was all I had hoped for.

t wasn't perfect for my family life but it was just about manageable. A four hour commute for my wife and as my contract was only for a month to start with no firm plans could be made anyway. What a week. I started in a game the day after signing. From running up and down hills in Brighton on the Monday questioning whether it was all worth it to making my debut on the Saturday. It was very surreal. I hadn't really kicked a ball in months either, I'd been training myself and kept as fit as I possibly could but looking back its crazy how things developed.

City were relegated from League 2 at the end of the 2015/6 season. Galbraith had been one of the brighter lights in a depressing season. In his end of season review, Dave Flett of The Press, said Galbraith showed "flashes of ability, but his end product was frustratingly unreliable". Additionally, he always spoke well when interviewed on BBC Radio York. He signed a new one year deal. It was to be another relegation season, like his time at Gillingham, the manager who'd signed him moved on and he fell out of favour with the new manager, Gary Mills. He describes the end.

"The writing was also on the wall well before official confirmation (late June 2017). I say that lightly though as I was never actually told by the manager that my contract wouldn't be renewed. On second thought I hope I'm not just late for pre-season training! Of course, I am being facetious. I did not require such confirmation, checking my bank balance on the first of the summer months was indication enough that my P45 was imminent. If there was however any doubt about my future previously then a disagreement with the manager over the merits of taking the team to his local pub the day before away games put the final nail in my coffin. Suffice to say I did not believe in such methodology in an era where professionalism is supposed to be paramount. Or at least that is my view. The fact that we failed to win any of the games where this abnormal activity took place probably underlines this and if there was ever something that summed up that particular season then that was it."

In total, he played 30 games for City (21 in League 2 and 9 in the following season) and scored 2 goals. He didn't make the FA Trophy Final squad.

After City, he took a journalism course (from where this blog came) and played in his native Scotland.