Pressure? What pressure? There was none on evidence as Dale simply swept aside their opponents with a men against boys performance that saw us hardly get out of first gear for much of the game. It was a win which left even the doubters shaking their heads, and further proof that these are golden times that we are living in.

Dale v Lincoln games tend to have go through phases. Those supporters of a certain age always tended to look upon this fixture as being a nailed on three points for Dale. But around the mid to late 1990's, everything changed and Sincil Bank has become one of those grounds where Dale wins just didn't happen.

Indeed, our last victory down there came courtesy of a winning goal from a certain Keith Hill back in 1997, as a last day 2-0 win denied the home side a spot in the Play Offs. And since then, it's just been a few 1-1's to show for our efforts.

But despite Xmas looming large, around 500 Dale supporters made the cross country trip to the Cathedral City to see if Hill's men could repeat the efforts of their manager and maintain our position as Kings of the Castle.

The home side's lowly position has taken its toll. The busy, vibrant Sincil Bank of three or four years ago was a shadow of its former self. Crowds were down, the home supporters muted with the die hards simply wishing the season to be over with six months of it still to go. and perhaps worst of all was the set of 9 or 10 kids who had purchased the "Idiot's Guide to the Accrington Stanley Ultras" handbook, calling themselves the Passionistas. I know. If League 2 is going this way, perhaps its a good job that we've signalled our intention to leave.

It took a matter of seconds to see the gulf in class between the two sides. Indeed, I know how arrogant and cocky this sounds, but with exactly 54 seconds gone in this game (thanks to their geet big countdown scoreboards), I'd firmly declared the win was in the bag. You could just tell.

This Dale play in such a way that they look like they've been together for years. The midfield Jason duo play with such an understanding that its almost impossible to believe that this was only their fifth game together. And it was those two who dictated everything happening in this game. Neat simple passing, allowing the Dale wingers and full backs to take a chance on that run, before threading them in.

We were in control, with the home side chasing shadows, and for arguably the first time, we were playing with a belief that we were top of the league on merit. Champions elect? Far from it, but it was confident stuff from Dale as we bossed the game against the home side.

There were a few half chances but nothing yet to test the gloves of the home side, but such as the control, you knew a goal was on the way. And so it proved to be. After all the Dale attacking and a corner awarded right in front of the travelling supporters, Lincoln scored with possibly their first real foray into our half.

In fairness to the home side, it was a fantastic move which led to their goal as they broke from a Dale corner. The clearance from the corner was carried nearly fifty yards by the home side's Lichaj before threading the ball perfectly through the Dale defence to the on rushing Herd who rifled the ball into the far corner.

That certainly wasn't part of the plan, but what struck me was conceding this goal seemed to have no impact on us whatsoever, neither on or off the pitch. There was no wobble or worry, just a firm belief in business as usual and if we carried on as we were doing, then the result would take care of itself. If anything, that goal left us something of a wounded beast. It was time for second gear.

We stepped up our pressing, and Chris Dagnall did all the right things finding room in the penalty box out of absolutely nothing, but his finish troubled the seagulls only. You could smell the fear of the home side right now.

And so that proved to be the case as we'd had the result sewn up by half time. It took just ten minutes or so for us to get back on to level terms with the Imps, with a classic bit of attacking Dale play.

After switching wings with Thompson, loanee Atkinson became the provider as he sent Scott Wiseman scurrying down the wing in front of him. Wiseman cut the ball back to Chris O'Grady who was lurking around the penalty spot, and despite three defenders within spitting distance of him, he had no trouble whatsoever in burying the ball into the top corner.

Forget fear, right now, the only thing we could smell was blood and the game was there for the taking. There might have been just seven or eight minutes left to the break, but there was a real sense on the field that we would not be content going in with just that equaliser to show for things. We wanted this game won by half time.

The home side were living dangerously surviving chances from Dagnall, O'Grady, Atkinson with even Tom Kennedy getting in on the act at one point, but the best of all the chances came from a Joey Thompson looping header which had the home keeper racing back to tip it over. He was merely delaying the inevitable.

From the resultant corner, Craig Dawson leapt like the clichéd salmon with a bullet header which must have invoked a memory or two for his manager. A great goal by the teenager taking his tally to six for the season, and with news filtering through of a Bournemouth half time hammering (after all, what sort of side with promotion ambitions goes 3-0 down at half time to the likes of Morecambe?), it was clear our position at the top was to be carrying a four point cushion.

Had I been a home supporter, perhaps the most worrying thing was the realisation that had set in amongst the home team. For long periods, the home side were playing like a mid table side playing out the last two or three weeks of the season. I know much of this showing was down to our own performance, but they looked so incapable of doing anything about it. There was no fight in evidence at all. Teams have been relegated with more about them than this.

The second half again saw Dale in absolute cruise control. Lincoln weren't having a look in, or even a touch of the ball at times. It was a classic lesson in Dale domination and perhaps in fairness to the home side, the last few weeks have seen many sides from all parts of our division on the receiving end too.

Had there been any shred of doubt about the result, then they were gone on the hour mark when we made it 3-1. A free kick was awarded just outside of the Lincoln box, and Dagnall tossed the ball to TK telling him he was making a run. By the time the Lincoln defence reacted, the ball had been popped over to Joey Thompson at the back post with an identical finish to the one at Bradford which was incorrectly ruled out that night. This time, his efforts at nipping in at the back post were correctly rewarded, capping another fantastic display by the local lad.

It was a repeat of last week at this point, with Olés being the order of the day as we knocked the ball about with aplomb knowing full well that it might be worth keeping something back in the tank for further adventures that lay ahead. It was simple stuff and at one point Tom Kennedy pulled out a couple of tricks beating his winger, then did it again just because he could.

And with fifteen minutes to go, the Passionistas had seen enough. It was a fantastic statement of intent to see the self proclaimed most passionate supporters packing their flag away not long after 4:30pm. They knew, we knew. The only appropriate flag to be waved at this time was the white one.

Time ticked away, and the late entrant Higginbotham almost scored a fantastic goal from out of nothing, when he let fly from the far touch line. It narrowly avoided embarrassing the home keeper. The shot never looked on, but right now with confidence so high amongst the camp, they must feel like everything can come off.

The last five minutes saw a bit of a flurry from the home side, with their best spell of the game. Their best effort was forced down brilliant by Tom Kennedy, and nagging memories of a late two goal comeback by Lincoln around about 8 or 9 years ago, gave a completely irrational bout of worry, but that TK block aside, the home side were toothless in front of goal.

The final whistle came and went to much celebrations on and off the pitch. A thoroughly deserved victory that kept us on top of the tree, and ensured that we'll join the likes of Slade, Band Aid, St Winifreds School Choir, Mr Blobby, the Flying Pickets and the seminal Renee and Renato by having a Christmas Number One.

But the intention is not to stop there. We've seen plenty of FL rebranding over the years. We've witnessed Division 4 become Division 3, and then Division 3 become League 2. It might just be time for the Rochdale Division to change its name.

We're past the stage of expectation now, which has somewhat haunted us at times over the past few years. This is dream stuff from the Dale, and you have to think that this Dale side has it in them to achieve whatever they want. Of course, reaching the end of January intact remains a vital bit of grounding for all Dale supporters once the dust settles from yet another win.

But before that dust settles, we're running out of superlatives for this Dale side, and it will be quite some time before we fully realise just what a job Hillcroft have done at Rochdale.

We're hitting points totals already that seasons previous have struggled to beat come May, we're playing a style of football usually only reserved for the European moneybags, and we've never spent Saturday evenings smiling quite as much as we're doing now. Footballing heaven.