In true City style, the Tigers stutter to promotion five seconds after missing a penalty - all thanks to Tranmere's collapse in form.  Truly a remarkable achievement for City's rather shell-shocked fans to contemplate.

It's injury time, and we are really going for it, looking for the goal that seals promotion whatever is happening in the Wirral. We force a barrage of corners which Swindon barely clear, Elliott squeezes a header wide, Cort has another brilliantly tipped over, the whole stadium seems to be stood up as we swing in another. Rhys Evans, the Swins keeper, who has been magnificent all afternoon, doesn't get this one first time, scrabbles for it and Leon Cort falls over. Penalty, apparently, astonishingly; and we go mad. A hurried conversation between Elliott, Barmby and Fagan and young Craig gets the gig. He steps up, side foots it without great pace or purpose and Evans inevitably makes the save, but palms it out to Ellison who sticks it away as everyone stands still. It all falls silent as we realise that the whistle has gone, the goal doesn't stand, but we don't know why. Everyone looks at the ref to see if the spot kick is to be re-taken, but he's pointing dressing-roomwards, and the game is over and we've drawn. The tannoy man announces 'We have a final score, Tranmere nil, Blackpool nil' and the players leap, the stadium bounces and we're up. It was bizarre, it was bemusing, it was, and the gods curse me for having become a spoilt football fan in just 2 years of success after so many of misery, just a little bit of an anti-climax. We should have won, but very good goalkeeping and some less-than-predatory finishing meant that we didn't.

But that's going to be my only moan this day. We've done it. This is far more of an achievement than last campaign, when our resources dwarfed all those around us. This division is notably stronger than the one below, almost every side can pass the ball and is well-organised, and they all saw us coming. But they couldn't stop us, and we've done it, easily. This was no tense afternoon at Yeovil with 2 teams both of whom desperately needed the win looking over their shoulders at rivals circling like sharks. This was a canter, some fun in the spring, after the hard work had been done in November and December and March, and the promotion-style exuberance had happened at Prenton Park. This is how it is when you are a big club going places and expecting to get there on time.

Myhill
Stockdale Cort Delaney Dawson
France Ashbee Lewis Elliott
Barmby Fagan

So, a notional 4-4-2, and not merely so because of the roaming Barmby. As a fellow-watcher pointed out, we were much of the time playing with 5 forwards, so eager were the team to get at the Swinds, with only either Ashbee or Lewis hanging back to cover the defence. In the early minutes, playing towards a North stand 2/3 full with City fans, Dawson lashed a free kick against the wall, Stockdale and France stepped nimbly through the visitors' creaking offside trap but they scrambled back to get it away for a corner. Then France's telling through ball is given further impetus by Barmby's exquisite dummy and Fagan cleverly puts in Lewis who stabs it just the wrong side of the post. Lovely, lovely football. Next, Fagan crosses, Barmby, having realised that he can beat this lot without actually touching the ball, dummies again and France's first time hit is well saved by Evans as we drool over more toothsome football.

Swindon, well, they weren't really trying at all. Disinterested and intimidated they seemed, none more so that Sam Parkin, again linked with our club. In the November snow in Wiltshire in our last reversal before our season-changing run of victories he scored twice, nicely enough, without looking anything marvellous. The fact that he has scored another 20 league goals to add to those 2 suggests that he is a proper predator-goalscorer, perhaps in a way that Fagan and Barmby are not. Maybe so, but yesterday's display also suggested that he is a lot of other things that they are not too, such as lazy, uncommitted and heavy-footed. If that was his 'come and get me' game then I hope we don't.

But we got on with the football. Barmby elected to kick the ball for a bit instead of skipping over it and was equally adept at this, finding Fagan who turned wonderfully and volleyed excitingly only for Evans to save, wellyly. If you see what I mean. The little master then participated in another mesmerising passing move, putting in a telling cross that Ashbee half-volleyed over. And still we came, the brilliant Fagan holding up and passing, missed out the onrushing Elliott for Dawson to lash just the wrong side of the upright. Elliott was then fouled, and Barmby curled the freekick in and over the wall and down under the bar with the deftness of a Roger Federer forehand but the excellent Evans again got to it and pawed it away. At half-time we waved our lads off happily, having hammered them 0-0.

The second half saw 2 immediate changes. Price replaced France, I've no idea why, if he was injured I missed it. Equally significantly, Swindon had clearly had a monumental bollocking in the dresssing room and they were immediately more effective.Sammy Igoe suddenly remembered both that he was quite good and that he was playing and started to make space down our flanks. In fairly quick succession white-booted-wanker-left-back Grant Smith fired embarrassingly over, Howard took Igoe's pass and ran well before just shooting wide and Myill tipped over a good effort from Fallon. We were more subdued, although Lewis might have done better when trying to deflect a Dawson free kick goalwards. This was more or less Junior's last act, as he was replaced by Ellison. Say what you will about Peter Taylor, but you are unlikely to ever say that he panders to the crowd. It wasn't so long ago that Junior warming up brought howls of anguish from as far away as Montreal. After this lively, committed and skilful performance his withdrawal produced mutters of disappointment from the faithful. But Ellison's muscular style has become appreciated too, and soon he linked with Fagan, Barmby, Elliott, and Barmby again for a cross that just ran away from Fagan in a move that surpassed even the brilliance of our first half efforts. Incidentally, if anyone watching the video finds that I've got the participants out of sequence, I apologise; it's not easy recording it when they're doing it as fast as they did or when you've drunk as much as I had.

We thought Ellison had won it minutes later, as Evans for once missed one and the domed one's flick towards goal produced the mother of all scrambles which eventually resolved itself in the keeper emerging, like Finlay Calder from beneath a ruck of English forwards, determinedly clutching the ball to his chest. The netman then had the energy to institute a ruck of the firm-pushing-in-the-chest nature with Swindy teammate David Duke. It wasn't obvious that anything on the pitch had prompted this, so I can only assume that Evans was objecting to having to line up next to a former Grand Wizard of the Ku Klux Klan and all too current racist, anti-Semite and hate-monger. Custodian of the leather! We were destined not to beat him this day.

And so to the final schemozzle and the final whistle, and now a final few weeks to digest the manner of our achievement. And a final thought from me, on the players who have been outstanding for us, which is most of them. Specifically, Leon Cort has been immense in the last 6 months, whilst Nick Barmby has pleased me as no Hull City player has pleased me in my twenty-odd years watching, apart from Theodore Whitmore. I don't have any higher praise to give than that. But player of the season for me is still a shoe-in, and it is Stuart Elliott. 26 league goals from a left winger who has also been our only forward with a genuine aerial threat is a wonderful achievement. He had his quiet games, he had one yesterday, but when he was in the team we always looked like we could win and we normally did. More worryingly, but equally tellingly, when he wasn't in, we struggled: after his injury against Huddersfield we won without him at Stockport, the only really hopeless team in this division, and then couldn't win at all in the next six that he sat out, winning again as soon as he was back, and pretty much keeping winning until we couldn't beat Port Vale or Oldham when he was on international duty, as he had been earlier in the campaign in our only real embarrassment of the season when we tanked at Huddersfield. The manager will have noticed this too and will want to insure against it next season, but I think we fans can celebrate it as a remarkable campaign from the gifted and brave God-botherer. Well done Stuart, well done everyone. Well done, Hull City AFC.

HULL CITY (4-4-2): Myhill; Stockdale, Cort, Delaney, Dawson; France, Ashbee, Lewis, Elliott; Fagan, Barmby.  Subs: Price (for France, 45), Ellison (for Lewis, 66), Joseph (for Stockdale, 78), Hessenthaler, Duke.

Goals: None

Booked: None

Sent Off: None

SWINDON TOWN: Evans, Jenkins, O'Hanlon, Heywood, Ifil, Smith, Igoe, Duke, Howard, Parkin, Fallon.  Subs: Roberts (for Fallon, 86), Book, Pook, Robinson, Caton.

Goals: None

Booked: Igoe, Jenkins

Sent Off: None

REFEREE: M Jones

ATTENDANCE: 23,125