Not exactly classical stuff, this, but if City finally manage to haul themselves out of this wretched division at the end of the season, yesterday's offering at the Circle will undoubtedly be a game which Tigerwatchers will look back on as one of the key, if not the key, moments of the season. The League leaders came to town and showed for long spells during the match why that status was well merited, but ultimately could resist neither a dogged, workmanlike and hungry Tiger machine in general, nor the deadly finishing of our own very own Welsh hat-trick wizard Jason price in particular. This was an absolutely massive game for City; defeat was unthinkable, a draw not much better, and, as has been the case all too rarely in the history of our Club on such occasions, we delivered. Oh yes.

Yesterday's line-up showed only one change from the starting line-up at Bootham Crescent, with the Muss being replaced by Myhill. A case of Tinker Taylor again? Maybe, although rumours abounded of Myhill only missing the York game because of a stomach upset. Anyway, whatever. We carded the following:-

Myhill
Hinds Joseph Delaney Dawson
Price Ashbee Green Elliott
Burgess Forrester

It was glorious football weather, clear and crisp, with a down Hull way as the Tigers kicked off towards the highly creditable following of around 4000 Doncs, many resplendent in the favours they had received for Christmas, in a record Circle League gathering of 23 006. Things became even more glorious a mere three minutes in as our heroes raced into the lead. Elliott won a free on the left, which Ashbee was about to waste by taking quickly, but then thought better of it. Whether this was the result of wise second thoughts on the part of the City skipper or a roar of disapproval from a team mate is not clear, but in either event it was a wise choice, as Greeny stepped up to deliver an absolute peach of a ball into the box which dropped just short of the reach of visiting netminder Warrington, allowing Pricey to rise and flick a header past the now-stranded keeper and into the unguarded net. The Welshman whirled away in triumph, shirt held aloft, three sides of the Circle erupted, and the thermometer read six degrees.

City continued to look as though they would be a handful for the away defence without creating any further clear cut chances, but the Doncs gradually worked themselves up into cohesion and it became clear that we were not going to romp away with this one at this early stage. The first moment of anxiety for City came on 11, when a disputed free kick was taken quickly by the much vaunted (although it's hard to see why from the two games he has played against City this season) McIndoe, complete with wussy thick black gloves. However Myhill was alert to the danger and pouched the effort with ease. The City netman was however tested a bit more rigorously four minutes later, when another free kick took a tricky deflection, but again the American reacted well (one aspect of Myhill's game which is superior to that of the Muss is definitely the sharpness of his reflexes and general alertness).

The visitors had clearly recovered well from their early setback and for long periods during the remainder of the half enjoyed the lion's share of the leather, thanks in some part it has to be said to an over hesitant City approach in midfield coupled with a tendency to over elaborate unnecessarily and then take the soft option and play a colleague into trouble in turn. The main culprit on both counts, it has to be said, was Ashbee, who had a complete nightmare in the first half although improved considerably in the second. Despite this, no real threat was conjured up for the City goal for well over twenty minutes.

And then, just as it looked as though we should survive through to half time, Donny grabbed what at that stage was a well-deserved equaliser. There was only one principal culprit for this goal, namely the grey-haired man on the touchline and his insistence on the potentially suicidal expedient of having all eleven players back to defend a corner. After Myhill had tipped over a header from our old friend Leo Fortune-West, who received his customary deluge of abuse from the City faithful (for the Johnny-come-latelies among us, the reason for this is that some years ago he turned us down in favour of (I think) Rotherham after saying he didn't want to come north from wherever he was at the time), the resultant corner was competently cleared by the City rearguard to about 40 yards from Myhill's goal. There being no City player within challenging distance (although Greeny charged out and did his best), the leather was despatched swiftly back into the City box by a Donc with far too much time on his hands, from where Fortune-West took possession and, with his marker Joseph hopping from foot to foot in his vague vicinity like a man bursting for a piss (no, not a gratuitous anti-Joseph dig; this was about the only thing he did wrong yesterday), switched the ball to his left foot and shot high to Myhill's right and into the net. A well-taken goal, but one which would surely have been prevented had a single Tiger been allowed to stay upfield to challenge for the clearance. When will you stop being so damned pig-headed, Taylor, and just admit you're wrong on this one?

The thermometer read six degrees.

Half time reflections? A disappointing 45 minutes in the light of the flying start we made and the preventable nature of the equaliser. Our opponents were skilful and pacy, often breaking with three or four men in support of the man with the ball, but we showed them too much respect at times and ought to have been a bit tighter and more careful in our half of the field. The other thing niggling me and my companions throughout the half was the constant procession of individuals, to a man (or child) unfamiliar faces in the part of the East Stand where I sit, in and out of their seats which started, without a word of a lie, a mere two minutes into the game. For crissake either stay at home, or take your brat for a piss before the game starts, and tell him he has to wait till half time for his ruddy crisps.

Other points of interest during the interval were the fact that Myhill spent much of it on the field practising his kicking, and the fact that once again the, Rev. Allen Bagshawe's carol ritual emptied the seats faster than any security alert could ever have done.

So to Act II, and I don't know what was said in the home dressing room but it certainly had the desired effect. City were altogether more solid and purposeful in the second period, keeping a much tighter rein on the lively and tireless Doncsters to the extent that Myhill did not have a proper save to make in the second half. On the attacking front we gave early notice of our intentions on 48 when Greeny made a determined run down the inside-right channel and fired in a low drive to the near post which Warrington could only palm round the post. The overall effective Elliott was next to show, seeing his drive tipped round the angle of past and bar.

The thermometer read six degrees.

Would we now defend our way to a 2-2 draw? Actually, not a bit of it. The issue was put beyond any doubt on 78 when some smart interplay out in the right hand corner saw Burgess rise almost unchallenged six yards out to meet the resultant cross. Big Ben didn't connect cleanly with it as he ought to have done, and Warrington was able to make a fine reflex save and push the ball away to his left??.straight into the path of Price who had raced in from the right, and who claimed the match ball with a vicious low drive from a narrow angle which the beleaguered Warrington could only help into the net.

And that was it. Except that we were denied a likely fourth at the death by an incorrect offside decision against Allsopp, who was a good two yards inside the City half when the ball was played through to him by Burgess. That might have been harsh though on the now-deposed League leaders, who had played their part in an entertaining and skilful game, but who by the end looked a dispirited and disconsolate bunch. Apart from keeper Warrington, that is, who, as the other players shook hands and the thermometer read six degrees, seemed intent for some reason on doing some damage to the person of Elliott and had to be restrained by team mates and officials as the City Ulsterman was ushered swiftly from the field by a member of the backroom staff.

Seven points, then, from a difficult run of four games. Not a bad haul. One significant consequence of yesterday is that the result gives the lie to the sneering observations of our rivals that City cannot beat the top teams. Rovers were in fact the second team to fall at the Circle this season and lose top spot as a result. If you believe, then, that these things come in threes, you might fancy the same thing to happen when Atkins brings his neanderthals to drag their knuckles along the Circle turf in three weeks' time. And if we can actually now stay true to form and win the next two highly-winnable games, you never know who might replace them.