AS WE enter the final week of the Scottish Premiership season, most of the issues at the top end of the table have already been decided. But at the bottom end of the table? As the legendary Sir Alex Ferguson once put it, it's now 'squeaky bum time'.

It really is still all to play for with Inverness Caley. While admittedly now looking like big favourites to suffer the dreaded drop, they’ll still know that six points and a prayer could catch Hamilton Accies and at least give them a second chance through the play-offs.

The Accies themselves, along with Motherwell and possibly my old club Dundee, still have to dodge the play-off spot this week but at least in that situation you are getting a second bite at redemption.

I can only imagine what the fans of these clubs are going through at the moment, but, what does it feel like for the players to be involved in these most pressurised of relegation situations? And what does it mean to the club off the park when you do drop down into the minefield that is the Championship?

Being a bit of an expert (some would call it Jonah) in such matters, I can tell you now it was both an utterly stomach-churning and very sobering experience. For players of the aforementioned clubs, please look away now!

Unfortunately, as a player, I suffered the ignominy of relegation twice from the Scottish Premiership, or as it was known back then, the SPL, with Dundee in 2005 and Dunfermline in 2007. Both situations were different in that with Dundee, we totally blew up after the split, picking up only two points from 15 after looking all but safe.

Meanwhile at Dunfermline, under Stephen Kenny, we came from miles behind St Mirren to go on a fantastic run and only go down on the second last day of the season. But, the end result was ultimately the same. However, it is the Dundee relegation and how it ultimately unfolded, and, the aftermath, which will continue to haunt me for the rest of my days.

Think of the cruellest way to go down, and then multiply it by 100.

The last game of that SPL season in 2005 had us going to Livingston needing to beat them to stay up. If we won, Livingston went down. It was as simple as that. A gigantic match for both clubs who had known tough times previously. I can remember we actually went and stayed the night before in Livingston, which was unusual, and the chairman came in and offered the squad a huge bonus to win the game.

Listen, that was not required. We all desperately wanted to win the game and if anything, that gesture probably just added more pressure on the players.

But he knew how much money the club would lose if we didn't stay in the SPL, and ultimately, what the consequences of relegation would be. I'm not afraid to admit, I was a selfish football player, but for probably the first time in my career going in to a game, I wasn't thinking about myself or about the money, honestly.

When I got my head on the pillow that night, I was thinking about the kitman, the chef, and the girls in the office who looked after the players brilliantly, who not only had been at the club for years, but were also massive Dundee fans. What would happen to them?

I was thinking about the youth players, some of whom were maybe 50/50 to get a new contract, thinking about the fans and the hurt and the stick they would get. Okay, maybe for a split second I did think of the win bonus. But there was so much more hanging on this one game.

As the match against Livi hurtled towards the 95th minute, we were drawing 1-1 and staring relegation in the face. I convinced myself the next time I got the ball, I was going to go for it – and I did.

Cutting across the box in injury time, I struck a left-foot shot, a rarity in itself, which bounced and bobbled its way towards the bottom corner, bang in front of 5000 Dundee fans, each willing it to go in. It hit the inside of the post, and trickled along the line into the arms of the keeper. The final whistle went straight away.

I crashed to my knees and sobbed uncontrollably. An inch the other way; an inch the other way and two days later, back at Dens Park, I wouldn't have witnessed those office girls crying in the corridor after losing their jobs. Or seen those youth players heartbroken, their dreams shattered after being told due to relegation they were not getting that new deal as the budget was being slashed.

I felt incredibly guilty. I couldn't look any of them in the eye that day. But that is the consequences of relegation and unfortunately, those exact same circumstances will occur at a club in the Premiership this week and maybe another will follow in the play-offs.

They say football is a game of fine margins. I would certainly concur.