Fighting to retain Sammy McIlroy at the helm, spirited but limited Stockport grind City down to their level and eek out a 0-0 draw.  The goal famine up front is now reaching epic proportions, I fear it's time to call in Bob Geldof.

My good lady accompanied me to the Circle yesterday. This is an event that normally comes round only a couple or so times a season, and so yesterday she was quite understandably rapacious in her pursuit of all the news and information which she doesn’t receive on a weekly basis like the rest of us. One of the topics on her agenda in the pre-match pub yesterday was the amount of time normally spent by the holders of the Tiger Chat match reporters’ Pitman Shorthand Dictionary in compiling a typical match report, this being a topic which has been known from time to time to cast a ripple or two over normally calm (ha!) domestic seas of a Sunday morning. And so, as the England wickets began to tumble on the television screen above our heads, this very question was posed of my only other match reporting colleague present at the time, Mr B M Gretton. Now the aforementioned Mr Gretton is a trusty individual, and more particularly a man who can be counted upon, if in the appropriate frame of mind, to come to one’s rescue on such potentially-hazardous occasions, and on this occasion he did not disappoint, stating that in his experience the crafting of the match report, if done to the appropriate specification, should take well north of a couple of hours, a response consistent with my own experiences.

Scrolling swiftly forward to 4.53 yesterday, and the shrilling of the final whistle of referee Atkinson, Mr Gretton leaned across to me conspiratorially, and observed knowingly, "I think you might be able to shave a few minutes off this time, Tommo".

An observation which aptly summed up the proceedings yesterday. For it is hard to recall a City performance in recent times which was so devoid of incident and passion, to the extent that it was all reminiscent of much of what was served up during the Hateley days, to give Dolan a break for a while. Added to this was the fact that the opposition manager was rumoured to be one defeat away from departing Edgeley Park "by mutual consent", and so sent out a team with clearly but one instruction ringing in its ears – namely to avoid defeat - an instruction carried out to the letter, but at the cost of turning in a shockingly unadventurous performance so early in the season. The result was a wholly unentertaining game of football in which the final whistle was one of the few pleasurable moments.

This was truly the antithesis of the entertaining and convincing performance at Peterborough the previous week, and all the more puzzling for the fact that the line-up which started yesterday was one change away from that which had started at London Road. In search of an explanation, some were trotting out the old chestnut of the expectations of the large Circle crowds (16 182 yesterday, by the way) placing undue pressure on the team, but surely that old bogey was laid to rest last season. On Humberside after the game, Taylor, in a moment of uncharacteristically frank analysis of his charges, insisted that the team were not playing to instructions with their early and easy long balls to the front two, but offered no reason as to why.

The form of the front two obviously doesn’t help. Allsopp’s physical commitment, ball control and sheer presence of mind are palpably deteriorating by the week, despite as much encouragement from the crowd as he has any right to expect, and it is high time – for his own good – that he is treated to a spell in the Reserves. Next to him, Wilbraham has for me done little to justify the expense of bringing him to the Circle. There were some encouraging signs last week, but yesterday he reverted to type, being frequently out-muscled, out fought and out of position, which was all the more disappointing for the fact that he was facing his former club. These two may complain about the service they are getting, but it seemed like a vicious circle yesterday; the defence and midfield seemed to have increased expectations that any City attack would be swiftly repulsed and were, it seemed to me, less inclined to create opportunities that would only be wasted, preferring to sit deep in readiness for the counter attack. The defence themselves were not immune from the odd gaffe, and edginess descended over the entire team, not to be lifted even when the front two were supplanted on the hour.

Only a theory, but whatever the reasons, it badly needs sorting. The other thing worth saying at this juncture is that, having stepped up a division, there are fewer if any soft touches. Yesterday’s performance might well have still garnered us a full share of the spoils against the likes of Bury or Boston, but the players will hopefully soon come to terms with the fact that you have to work harder for your crust in Division 3 (to give it its real name).

OK, on to some facts, with which I can deal justifiably summarily. We lined up as follows:_

Myhill
Thelwell Cort Lewis Dawson
France Ashbee Keane Elliott
Allsopp Wilbraham

The weather was fine and the Circle thermometer read a balmy 18 degrees as the Tigers kicked off towards a mere smattering only of Stockportians. For the first quarter of an hour or so there was no sign of the disappointment to come, as we started from pretty much where we had left off against the Posh. Elliott saw a low drive from a narrow angle tipped round the post by netman Cutler after five minutes having been set up by a clever ball from Ash, but the City skipper ought to have done better a minute later, when he had space and time to tee his shot up from 20 yds after good work form Lewis and Allsopp had created the position, but only succeeded in sending the away fans ducking for cover.

This was a good spell, albeit not without its scary moments as Cort stupidly backed out of a 60/40 challenge, allowing Beckett to shoot, but luckily straight at Myhill, while a Thelwell fresh air shot in his own box on 17 might have caused consternation had Dawson not dealt with it.

We forced a few corners which came to nought save for an Elliott header eighteen inches over on 12 mins, but the front two were struggling (and not helped by the referee’s liberal attitude to some overly-robust defending) as early as the twenty minute mark. Stockport started to challenge more and, it may fairly be said, actually looked in control by the half-hour mark. Indeed, an Elliott effort which went wide on 31 mins marked City’s first attack for nearly 20 minutes. A Cort slip produced another scare on 33 but Myhill managed to divert the resultant shot with his foot, and the City keeper did even better five minutes later when he smothered a deflected shot. We began to push forward a bit more as half-time approached, but it was all pretty unavailing stuff.

The celebrated chief football reporter (don’t know if he still is) on the Scottish Sunday Post, Doug Baillie, who once actually reported on a City game (a 3-2 pre-season win at Ayr in the 70s), would, had he been present, doubtless have described the first half as "gey dreich". The second half was, it has to be said, also dreich, and to a comparably gey extent as the first half to boot. It picked up a bit, but not much, and before long the front two were falling apart now and duly replaced, with France and Elliott moving up. After a Green run down the right, France cut inside but shot across the face of the goal, and then on 66 spooned the ball over when it dropped kindly for him just inside the box. His reward for this was to be moved to right back – his third position in eight minutes – with the entry onto the field of Walters. And the ex-Trotter (or do they now have some invented nickname now as well?) soon made his presence felt, when a looping Ash header surely only needed a touch to divert it past Cutler but was treated to a fresh-air swipe from six yards. Does anyone else have in their mind’s eye a vision of the City training ground with Walters manically swinging a banjo to and fro in the vicinity of, but never actually making contact with, the rear end of a cow as the beast itself munches nonchalantly on a pile of grass?

Another scare followed for City on 71 as Myhill – who must be exempted from any criticism of the team in general – tipped a rasping Beckett effort over the angle of post and bar. A minute later we went the closest we had been to date, when Walters chested a Dawson ball into Greeny’s path and the Cumbrian drilled a 25-yarder inches wide of the left-hand post.

But it was really pretty meagre fare by this time, not helped by the constant timewasting from our visitors, which eventually earned the keeper a deserved booking. It did get a bit tasty on 81 though, when Ash not unreasonably took exception to the way he had been fouled and it all quickly flared up in front of the East stand with a dozen players involved and some genuinely intent on landing punches. When order was restored Ash was fortunate only to be booked along with one of theirs as he had clearly taken a couple of swings, one of which may even have connected.

And then, after a free kick moved to the edge of the box for dissent had been wasted by Elliott driving it straight into the wall on 82, lo and behold we actually hit the target, Cutler producing a fine reflex save from an Elliott strike from a few yards out after Price had set him up. But that was it, and we had to settle for a share of the spoils.

Although a somewhat patchy start, we would all surely at the start of the season have accepted our current League position after ten games. It is something to build on and, while I fancy the City management will have their work cut out in restoring and maintaining the confidence of the front runners in particular, for once it is not complacent to say that, despite some indifferent stuff at times, we are genuinely handily-placed. We should certainly have no truck with the dullard pronouncing loudly in the East Stand latrines after the game that that was it and Taylor had to go, or the oaf on Humberside afterwards who pompously announced he was going to stay away from the Circle until consistency returned (no doubt now busily telling anyone who cares to listen that he’s an Arsenal/Chelsea man himself).

But if we are serious about an assault on further glory this term, yesterday simply will not do, and for once I’m not going to criticise those who left early.

HULL CITY (4-4-2): Myhill; Thelwell, Cort, Lewis, Dawson; France, Ashbee, Keane, Elliott; Wilbraham, Allsopp.  Subs: Price (for Allsopp, 59), Green (for Wilbraham, 59), Walters (for Thelwell, 67), Edge, Duke.

Goals: None

Booked: Ashbee

Sent Off: None

STOCKPORT COUNTY: Cutler, Williams, Griffin, Mair, Cartwright, Robertson, Goodwin, Lambert, Adams, Welsh, Beckett.  Subs: Jackman (for Griffin, 73), Daly (for Lambert, 88), Geary, Barlow, Spencer.

Goals: None

Booked: Adams, Cutler, Goodwin, Mair

Sent Off: None

REFEREE: M Atkinson

ATTENDANCE: 16,182