Another rather half-baked performance in the first half, but a much better showing in the second only spoilt by a scrappy last second Sheffield Wednesday winner, is scant reward for a 24,000 plus record KC attendance.  This result secured the Owls a play-off berth, big clubs like them should surely be in the Championship alongside the Tigers next season.

Apologies to the tiger-chat community, for disagreement among your crack squad of match reporters as to whose job this game was precludes normal service – far be it from me to say at whose door this fault lies - so let me do no more than sketch for you the rhythms of this match.

It won’t take long.

We judged it perfectly last season by going up away from home in the season’s penultimate game, and then partying at the single remaining fixture. This season it’s all going on too long – and it was like this twenty years ago, now I bring myself to remember, when a season of spectacular excellence similarly fizzled out as we were forced to play fixtures no one cared about. Take golf. Lantern-jawed Ernie Els. He’s five up, with four to play. He stops. I suppose football can’t be like that, but turning out for games that cannot in any circumstances alter our final League position brings a degree of emptiness.

So yesterday’s final whistle brought urgent tannoy entreaties to stay off the pitch, but as far as I could see no one had the remotest inclination to launch an invasion. Sheffield Wednesday had scored a weird and unexpected winner deep in injury time, their fans were celebrating raucously, we’d been beaten at home. Sure, it’s been a wonderful season but football is largely about the here and now, and all Tiger jubilation was inevitably muted. The apparatus needed to put together the traditional CocaCola Promotion stage was brought out to the centre circle and assembled – but o so very slowly, surely it was all more slick this time last year or was I simply surfing on euphoria then? The players came out in twos, and that was nice, especially the customary spoof “who the hell is he, how did he sneak his way in?” participant, this time announced as someone carrying the unlikely name “Alton Thelwell”. Hurray, we’re up. Well done. Peter Taylor and Ian Ashbee last of all, good on yer both. We were them promised that the players would wander round on a lap of honour, but first things first, and they stopped to allow multiple photographers to take pictures – none of those photographers were at Exeter at that night game when we got cuffed 3-0 and looked no better than a struggling Northern Prem side, let me tell you that in my most curmudgeonly tones – and after a while of grimacing at the flashbulbs I felt I’d seen enough and went home.

Publication of the list of pre-season fixtures earlier this week excited me a lot more than any of this jazz.

Never mind, we were a good deal less lame against Wednesday than we had been at Walsall last week, and in fact we were harshly treated by the scoreline. A draw would have been the fair result on the balance of play, but Wednesday won the game courtesy of two shockingly feeble displays of defence by us at either end of the match. Talbot put them ahead on 18 after our ridiculously soft refusal to clear a ball bouncing around cheerfully inside our box. The visiting players seemed as surprised as anyone that they’d been gifted the goal. And they seemed surprised as well on 93 when Myhill, abetted by some tired-looking defensive positioning, contrived to allow Quinn to claim a winner. Everyone was surprised, even aghast, by that one – City had played a tepid first-half but a better second and, if a winner was to emerge from this game, it looked a good deal more likely to be us than them. But all we got was Elliott’s firmly-struck penalty on the hour, awarded after a breathtakingly stupid and utterly blatant hand-ball in the box on the hour. For a good slice of the second period we looked capable of cutting deep into the tender flesh of a very young side that grew increasingly shapeless, nervous and lacked leadership throughout and, in Jon-Paul McGovern, had one of the most dishonest midfield shirkers I’ve seen in a long while. But we never quite shoved the dagger home. We didn’t look that bothered, at bottom.

Albeit that the afternoon’s football was a bit off the pace, some players stood out. Robbie Stockdale was one. His first-half display was of a quality that prompted Mr Taylor to haul him off at the break in favour of Marc Joseph, and not a single member of the crowd, not even door-owning Mark Gretton, was in a mood to voice complaint. Situations vacant. Right-back, Hull City. Summer shopping. Junior also departed at half-time, replaced by the honest and indefatigable Hessenthaler. He’s small but he never gives up – he reminds me of Attivo hopping gamely over the twigs to win the Oaks at Kelso. You can see why this wee man has such a band of admirers at every club he’s played for. He won’t be with us next year. Plenty of players would have responded to such circumstances by strolling around not breaking sweat, waiting for the final pay packet and the road west away from Hull. Hessenthaler, however, is congenitally incapable of giving less than his best. The same is true of Ashbee, though he gave the ball away an awful lot yesterday, even by his standards, while Ellison too deserves much praise for effort though little for end-product and he could also usefully be advised that the hands-on-hips, bent-at-the-waist attempt to suck in oxygen after a hard sprint looked daft on Chris Waddle and worse on a fair-to-middling lower Division hopeful.

Our largest roar was reserved for Ben Burgess, back as sub for his first outing in over a year. He looked a shade cumbersome, but then he always did. I’m pleased Mr Taylor has been able to get him back involved before the summer break, and I can’t see any reason why a fit Burgess would be unable to have a real go at some Division 2 defences next season. Burgess/ Fagan/ Barmby – some interesting possible combinations there.

The programme promises some exciting times ahead. Showdown! Hull City AFC versus the Hull Daily Mail! We’re not talking to them again, apparently, and this time the fuss seems to be over City ripping off some stuff from the Mail – a charge which, as far as one can tell, our Chairman is in no position to deny – and the Mail taking steps to protect its own commercial position against City’s notion of establishing a radio station. Reading the relevant piece, I couldn’t help concluding that the Mail was doing no more than any company in its position would do, it’s not a charity after all, and the match programme’s excitable attempt to incite me to moral outrage over our club’s alleged maltreament at the hands of the Mail left me utterly cold. Still, I don’t like the Hull Daily Mail at all and would never buy it so, whatever may be the rights and wrongs of this judged from a neutral perspective, I hope Mr Pearson wields a wickedly sharp sword in this matter.

Though frankly if there were ever to be an “official Hull City” radio station I can’t imagine I’d waste my time listening to its dissent-free candy-floss either.

Sheffield Wednesday will have journeyed home happy, and I am pleased for them that after a murky grey lunchtime which will have denied them the grace of a proper entry into Hull they will have left for their West Riding base with the declining sun picking out the majestic curves of our bridge astride its silvery estuary. I thought Wednesday looked a paper-thin outfit and I don’t expect to be playing them in the League next season. Still, as far as craic is concerned, this was the first game of next season, proper opponents, proper travelling support, proper atmosphere, over 24,000 stuffed into the Circle. Next season is going to be great. Yesterday was OK, sort of.

HULL CITY (4-4-2): Myhill; Stockdale, Cort, Delaney, Edge; Barmby, Ashbee, Lewis, Ellison; Fagan, Elliott.  Subs: Joseph (for Stockdale, 45), Hessenthaler (for Lewis, 45), Burgess (for Barmby, 72), Dawson, Duke.

Goals: Elliott 60 (pen)

Booked: Ashbee, Ellison

Sent Off: None

SHEFFIELD WEDNESDAY: Gallacher, Bruce, Bullen, Wood, Heckingbottom, McGovern, Adams, Whelan, Brunt, Quinn, Talbot.  Subs: Peacock (for Talbot, 69), Hamshaw (for Brunt, 83), Rocastle (for Adams, 83), Adamson, Aranalde.

Goals: Talbot 19, Quinn 90

Booked: Heckingbottom, Quinn

Sent Off: None

REFEREE: P Crossley

ATTENDANCE: 24,277