The first words I heard this morning, courtesy of the radio on the bedside table crackling into life, were "Hull City and Huddersfield town edged further towards automatic promotion" from the Today programme sports bulletin. Listening to this and considering some of the other stuff which has been put about in the media in the last few days, not least the YP article reproduced on here, which on reading it made me feel as if I had just awoken from some deep and prodigious slumber to find that promotion was now assured, made me wonder whether the view that City might perhaps not get across the promotion finishing line, or at least the cautionings of many, both on this list and elsewhere, that there must be no triumphalism or premature celebrations unless and until the league table told us that we were safe, were not just that teeny-weeny bit ill-founded.

The answer to this question, of course, is no it isn't, because, whatever may happen in the next two and a half weeks, we aren't there yet. But, at the same time, we are seven points ahead of the pack with only nine on the table, so surely we're in an invincible position. But then again, this is the team with possibly the greatest propensity of any to make things to go tits up on a grand scale, and so the ghostly spectre of failure hovers ominously over the Circle in a similar fashion to the fortnightly presence in the Ark director's box of the ghostly visage of the bogeyman Fish.

Half-full, half-empty. Positives, negatives. Plusses, minuses. All whirling round and round in the brain in ever-decreasing circles.

Not just the product of a mind rapidly being driven towards total and irreversible distraction, but pretty much what must have been going through the minds of the Tiger Nation the world over as last night they variously stood and sat in the North stand at Roots Hall, sat hunched over their radios or battled unavailingly with the vagaries of Hull City World. For this was a game which, for all it did little, in terms of the result and aspects (in individual terms) of the playing performance and the preventable nature of both the Shrimpers' goals, to set jangled nerves at rest as we enter the final furlong, offered a number of positives and was a graphic testimony to the resilience and character which Taylor, whatever you say about him, has undoubtedly instilled into his charges. Southend may have had nothing in terms of League status to play for, but, rejuvenated by their success in the LDV and anxious no doubt to prove a point as they were unlucky not to have claimed a share of the spoils at the Circle, were well up for this, maintaining a breathtaking tempo throughout, playing swift, decisive football when they had the leather and giving the Tigers barely a second on the ball when they didn't. Almost every other City team in my 38 years of Tiger watching would have succumbed pitifully, but last night we reacted with defiance, especially in the second half when we defended stoutly and broke with menace and conviction. It was classic, heart-stopping end-to-end stuff, and must have been a fantastic game for a neutral to watch.

Lining up in white were the following:-

Myhill
Thelwell Joseph Delaney Dawson
Green Ashbee Lewis Elliott
Allsopp Burgess

Subs: France (for Green, 72 mins) Hinds (for Thelwell, 72 mins), Walters (for Allsopp, 78 mins I think, although I was in such a state of shock by then I could barely calculate the time).

The 1 500 or so Tiger fans behind the goal gave their heroes a rapturous welcome and maintained a passionate and sustained volume all night, completely drowning out the passive home support - a far cry from the sullen mutterings of the Johnny-come-latelies at Moss Rose on Saturday. We went for it straight from the off and could have been ahead after only a couple of minutes as Allsopp skilfully controlled a bouncing ball on the right, cut inside and saw his low shot saved by home netman Flavahan. But Southend did not take long to show and the first of many anxious moments arrived on 5 when Dudfield outmuscled Joseph in the City box only to be outmuscled himself by DD. City's patient, resilient approach was proving an effective foil to the Shrimper's up-tempo style, and Allsopp was unlucky not to get a superb Burgess ball under control on 10 when he would have been through. The game continued in the same pattern without a great deal of goalmouth incident for some twenty minutes, much of which was played to a backdrop of "the Great Escape" theme tune from the City end (I mean, I know we aren't the most original set of songsmiths in the world, the inspiration of the Dolan era excepted, but surely we can do better than that?), but a great Tiger chance was spurned on 30 mins when Elliott broke stormingly from deep in the City half and found Big Ben, whose shot was only parried by Flavahan. The ball broke to Greeny, whose effort struck the outside of the post. As those who remember the Brabin goal a few years ago will know, the normal rules of visual perspective don't apply when you are watching a game from the North stand at Southend, and I didn't see what many claimed, namely that Greeny had men unmarked in the middle and should have squared to them rather than have a go himself.

Salvation lay at hand, though, a mere seven minutes on, courtesy of the unlikely hero-figure of Junior Lewis. The Leicester loanee again had a 90 minutes which overall can most politely be described as undistinguished, but he made no mistake when rising unchallenged six yards out to meet a Dawson free kick.

Waves of noise now rolled out from under the low roof at the City end, for surely now the tide had turned and the Tigers would seize and retain the ascendancy. Er....no, actually. In first half injury time defensive work that might have been a late contender for the all-time top sitcom survey being run by the Beeb soon put paid to that little notion. First off, Greeny should have walloped the ball either downfield, or even Row Z would have done, instead of trying to play out of a cramped City third of the field. Dawson, in a rare aberration for him, came off second best in the resulting challenge, and the ball fell to Southend livewire Maher, who was a thorn in the Tiger paw all night. The Southend number 17 duly floated a gentle cross into the box which Ash, on the six-yard line, should have blocked but inexplicably left, leaving Boaz totally unsighted as the leather dropped apologetically into the right-hand corner of the net.

The City fans were shell-shocked, and even a half-time dancing show from a troupe of scantily-clad jailbait (what a coarse place Essex is) failed to lift the mood of foreboding. Spirits were revived, though, as the teams took the field for what was to be a frantic 45 minutes. Again City made the early running with Big Ben having a header saved from a free-kick which saw Dudfield booked, but a minute after this Boaz made one of a string of fine saves, reacting superbly to tip a deflected shot over the bar. Three minutes later, with the Shrimpers now bossing midfield and making inroads particularly down their left where Thelwell was having yet another torrid time, the City netman came to the rescue again. But then on 56 City swarmed forward on the break and a sweet one-two between BBB and Allsopp led to Flavahan making a fine save from the Aussie's fierce rising drive. A minute later, City appeals for a penalty were turned down after BBB was sent flying as he attempted to reach a Green cross. Greeny then blazed over on the left when a square ball to the unmarked Allsopp might have been a better option.

This encouraging spell of Tiger pressure was soon over, though, and a further ten minutes were spent under the cosh. Eventually, though, a corner was forced on the left at three-quarter time. Dawson's flag kick was headed away by the dependable Cort, whose tussles with the irrepressible Burgess (my City man of the match) was one of the most absorbing features of the night, and the ball fell to Ashbee just outside the box. Now, some say that Ash produces his party piece once every season, others, including those who profess to be betting men but wouldn't risk a wager on it, say that he last did it two seasons ago, but frankly nobody much cared, as the City skipper controlled the ball and unleashed an absolute howitzer into the top corner which almost tore the net from the posts with Flavahan rooted to the spot.

Excitement was now - and I don't use this term lightly - at fever pitch. The replacement of the traumatised Thelwell with Hinds did much to steady things at the back and prevented Southend from getting in behind us down that side quite so many times, but the home side's pace and pressure were relentless. Boaz again came to the City rescue five minutes from the end when he again tipped a goalbound effort over, but then the Tigers surged forward again with the Tiger nation roaring itself hoarse and finished the stronger, always giving you the impression that a goal was on, but it was not to be. Elliott saw his shot deflected into Flavahan's arms, while the Ulsterman and Big Ben might each have made more use of their options instead of trying to walk the ball in, but in the end 2 -2 was a fair result.