A splendid run of league victories ends in grizzly style as a total gutless City performance sees Colchester ease us out of the Cup with little effort.

Awful. Disgraceful. Shameful. Richly deserving a smack in the mouth.

I refer to our wonderful fans. I am fortunate to sit at the Circle among a most urbane and stylish group of ladies and gentlemen, passholders to the hilt, and therefore enjoy the opportunity of regular and convivial bonhomie at home matches. The FA Cup brings a rather different brand of person. Smirking, sneering, “I’m only here cos it’s cheap”. Many folk around me derived great pleasure from laughing derisively and describing City as rubbish and storming out early. How many fans do we have? About 5,000, top whack, the rest are gloryhunting scum and frankly I’d be happier if they just didn’t bother.

Enough. We’re out of the Cup and yesterday we were, I confess, rubbish. I won’t detain you over long with the details, not least because I have no positives to share with you. We know for sure that we are a good side and we are upwardly mobile, but none of this was on view on a soulless, drab afternoon of blustery football. I shall call Colchester the Better Side and though I will not engage in the witless middle-class preening that has every dismal bore who rings into football phone-ins wishing luck to their conquerors I shall nevertheless not begin to make any sort of case that we were worth anything other than a barren defeat.

Playing disturbingly badly were;

Myhill
Angus Cort Delaney Dawson
Price Green Junior Keane
Facey Wilbraham

Yep, that’s it: we have settled uncommonly comfortably into a most shapely 4-4-2 over recent months. And here we are playing a profoundly peculiar sort of 4-5-1, with Facey looking as bemused as a Dalek confronted by a flight of stairs at being shoved out wide on the left. Wilbraham, as you might imagine, was alone and lonely, and never for a moment looked likely to cause anxiety among the rugged Col rearguard. It’s as if our manager, having cut back the fancy nonsense and got a reliable set-up soaring up the table, decided he would show us that he’s got more to offer than just sending ‘em out same as last week.

Myself, I’m a same as last week kind of a guy. Especially after we’ve just won eight in a row.

In the first half Colchester scored just before the half hour when Keane loses the ball tamely, a pass is swept right to left and one of theirs finishes the move with his left boot.

Then, just after the half hour, a gruesome mess in our box following a corner allows another of theirs to stick the ball in our net.

And we’re two-nil down, which is how it stays.

That’s it really. There’s nothing else of substance I can usefully draw to your attention.

Hmph. When a manager comes up with tosh about preferring to lose in the Cup rather than in the League – as the (admittedly ever unreliable) HDM claimed of Mr Taylor – you begin to suspect that the players will be sent out with the wrong attitude. And so it proved – most of our team’s demeanour shrieked DON’T CARE. But surely this was the chance for several fringe or, at least, not fully established performers to seize the day? Barmby is missing through suspension so this really is a glorious opportunity for Green to prove what many of us, though perhaps not the manager, believe – namely, that he is a skilful and inventive playmaker who is comfortably able to dominate matches not just in this Division but in the one above. Well, not against Colchester. He pranced around to minimal effect and I thought Green desperately disappointing yesterday. Ashbee’s out, so Junior or Keane, or preferably both, have the space to demonstrate they can lead by voice and by example in the centre of the pitch. Both look lightweight. Ashbee’s stock soared yesterday as we watched his would-be replacements potter around at half pace.

Worst of all? Jason Price. It wouldn’t concern me in the slightest were he to be booted out of our club Monday morning, never to return. His attitude was poor at Stockport, but it was stinking yesterday. He couldn’t be bothered. I suppose he thinks he should be first choice come what may, and, if not, he sulks. Do it on someone else’s time, please.

Look, this club is in great shape and, as we so thrillingly know, we are probably only ten or so wins from being promoted into the same League as teams lately managed by Peter Reid, Bryan Robson and other Giants of the Game. But if you’re only as good as your last game we’re rotten.

Second half, Keane is gone and Alssop takes up a striking role. 4-4-2, then.

On 53, we have our best opportunity to haul our way back into the tie as a ball from left to right allows Price sight of goal, but he shoots back across the face of the goal and wide. If we’re to escape we need to subject the Col net to some sustained pressure but we can’t even get the play predominantly into their half. On 61 only an excellent save from Myhill thwarts a smart move by the visitors.

Rain tumbles on to a sodden pitch. Dawson moves the ball left to right, Price contributes and an Alsopp shot is smothered by the keeper. We’re the better side now, and Green is beginning to look the dominant force in midfield, but it’s all so late, it’s all so patchy, it’s all so WE’RE BETTER THAN THIS.

Angus may have played himself out of a contract offer and gives way to Wiseman. Then Wilbraham, dismally poor but ill served by his midfield, is replaced by the modestly perky Fry. There are twenty minutes to go but they aren’t pretty. Alssop earns a yellow card for a nasty over-the-top tackle that might have merited a red, while his teammates slope around with screamingly negative body language. Junior has shoulders that can talk. “We’re getting nowt today”, they droop. Indeed we aren’t.

HULL CITY (4-3-2-1): Myhill; Angus, Cort, Delaney, Dawson; Green, Lewis, Keane; Price, Facey; Wilbraham.  Subs: Allsopp (for Keane, 45), Wiseman (for Angus, 64), Fry (for Wilbraham, 66), Duke, Hinds.

Goals: None

Booked: Allsopp, Dawson, Myhill, Price

Sent Off: None

COLCHESTER UNITED: Gerken, Stockley, Brown, Baldwin, Chilvers, Keith, Halford, Watson, Johnson, Fagan, Williams.  Subs: Cade (for Williams, 83), Hunt, Bowditch, Elokobi, Cousins.

Goals: Williams 27, Fagan 29

Booked: Fagan

Sent Off: None

REFEREE: P Joslin

ATTENDANCE: 14,027