Bad to worse as a toothless attacking performance yields City's third home defeat out of 3 league starts this season as a timid Coventry side snatch a late winner.

Do you want the good news first, or the bad news?

Well, the good news is that the weather certainly improved through the course of yesterday afternoon. At lunchtime it was a grey old day in Hull, and as the wind began to blow along the estuary you could be forgiven for thinking summer was long gone. It could have been October! And yet – joy! – the sun came out, the clouds lifted and rolled away, and we were treated to a delightfully balmy East Yorkshire afternoon. Blackberry season is upon us, the harvest is in, and I for one will be in my pew at church this morning offering up thanks.

The bad news? Ah, yes. Well, it’s quite bad, I’m afraid. To say this performance had Relegation written all over it wouldn’t come close to capturing the enormity of it. If all the feral youths roaming the wilder shores of Hull’s tougher environs had swarmed into the Circle yesterday armed with their biggest inkiest spraycans and painted RELEGATION in ten-foot high letters all over the pitch, it wouldn’t have caught the moment. If Jackson Pollock had turned up off the train from Goole, glowered at the scene awhile and, in the customary style of that artistic charlatan, dumped a lorryload of acrylic paint on the green canvas and dared the world to deny it spelled RELEGATION, no one would have taken up the challenge. If we borrowed that massive HOLLYWOOD sign from California, stuck it on top of Brantingham Dale and changed it to read RELEGATION, added in a volley of flashing neon lights and secured the services of Ms Christine Aguilera to provide accompanying vocals (“Relegate me honey, we’re going dowwwnnnn, grrrrr”), backed by those talented performers who used to skip around in the background when the Two Ronnies were doing their closing number, perhaps also with those birds in black dresses off the Robert Palmer video, also maybe T’Pau and the lass who was on Top of the Pops with Hawkwind when they did Silver Machine, well, then we might be getting close to conveying the truth of it.

This display against Coventry was as bad as it gets.

I hope.

Let me hasten to add that our opponents were a pretty shoddy bunch too – the game had much in common with last Saturday’s at Ipswich as both sides peddled dull, nervy and pedestrian football – but Cov won courtesy of one of the rare moments of imagination in the whole match, and their fans will be perfectly happy with their day’s work. Certainly the sky blue fans on their way home on the M1 who tooted and gestured in (what I think was) an encouraging manner as we struggled to change a flat tyre in the rain sported wide grins. That’s three very ordinary teams we’ve played at home now. And we’ve lost to all three of them.

To the match. I haven’t got much to say. I can’t lighten the mood. Skip the rest of it if you want. And I’ll leave it others to develop the theme being widely debated as the shocked crowd streamed away from the Circle yesterday – will Parkinson last as long as Molby?

Opening up for City on Malcolm Pyrah’s birthday were:

Myhill
Ricketts Collins Turner Dawson
Fagan Marney Livermore France
Duffy Porkin

Cov started off with a giant back line trio comprising Robert Page, Elliott Ward and Matt Heath and made their intentions clear on 4 as the burly Page meted out a beasting to the Beast. The visitors plainly planned rugged defence, a midfield anchored by experienced Colin Cameron, widely regarded as one of the best 60 Scottish holding midfielders of the last ten years, and exuberance down the flanks courtesy of Chris Birchall, who was so impressively energetic during Trinidad and Tobago’s spirited World Cup campaign in June. The plan collapsed because Birchall had an atrocious game, though other Cov players were also surprisingly feeble – Stern John, a threat against us for Derby last term, was largely anonymous this time and bulky debutant Kevin Kyle, native of Stranraer and in 1994 voted into fourth place in a poll to find the “person living in the Galloway region most likely to be able to trap a football first time if given twenty or so chances”, was proving remarkably wasteful in possession.

Enough about Cov. They weren’t much good. So what does that make us?

Rotten, in a word.

On 27 Duffy bustled through and shot wide, but was ruled to have committed a foul.

Yes, gentle people. That was the best bit of the first half-an-hour. A shot that missed and wouldn’t have counted even if it had gone in. This is a terrible game. Parkin is sporadically troublesome, but is simply not fit. Duffy, as we learned on Tuesday, needs the ball played in front of him so he can deploy his genuine speed and shooting ability. There was no sign that our players had realised this – the Scot got no service at all. Fagan was our liveliest player but the overall feel of midfield was one of lack of coherence. Flowing moves? Umm, no. Much passing at all? No.

And, woeful though the efforts of all 22 players were, we could and should have been ahead before half-time. On 39 France hit a low shot which keeper Marshall should have pouched safely. Instead he spilled it and the ball trickled loose to the unmarked Beast on the edge of the six-yard box. He had more than half of an empty goal to aim at and he had time to pick his spot, but he contrived to target the foot of the goalkeeper sprawled haplessly on the turf, and the shot spun away for a useless corner.

There were three added minutes, which contained a couple of shots (as many as there had been in the previous 45 minutes), one a deflected effort from John that was held comfortably by Myhill and the other a harmless drive from Marney that sailed high over the bar.

Dreadful.

And while I’m in grumpy mood, am I alone in thinking our programme, so readable in the last two or three seasons, has deteriorated significantly in quality? Up to three quid in price now, and yesterday’s issue included a batch of banal soundbites from our players, a bland piece about Coventry, a dull feature on Sam Ricketts, a blatant advert for the new Rothmans masquerading as an article, newspaper cuttings, a dull feature on Dean Marney (at Ipswich, we learn, “neither side wanted to lose the game”), lots of adverts and an appalling snivelling piece from Colin Young whining about how hard he’d found it to get his press accreditation confirmed in Germany this summer (o the pain of it! Let’s have a whipround for the distressed hack! Would your expense account accept cash or will only Amex do?). Oh, and a dull feature on Darryl Duffy. Worst of all, however, is the newly-instituted Fan of the Day feature which, at best (as yesterday), is a witlessly dull catalogue of platitudes, but more seriously could undermine the club. Tuesday’s column, topped by a photo of a man nailed on for Gold at London 2013 should “looking like a smug self-satisfied git” be accepted as an Olympic sport, revealed that the City Fan of the Day selected Johnny Giles as his boyhood hero (cos I started off as a Leeds fan, y’know, they were good in them days were Leeds) and also that the lowpoint of his time supporting (sic) City was the chants aimed at the QPR fans last season – though it seemed clear the individual had not attended the game. Ye Gods. The club handled this affair well – seek to identify the tiny number of offenders, but do not fan the flames of the self-serving media firestorm. In short – this was NOT a major incident and the club treated it with appropriate circumspection. And yet here is the club’s own publication helping to inflate the myth. Shame on those involved – and ultimately this buck stops with Mr Pearson.

O second half, let me get it over with quickly, I’m not enjoying this. On 59 Cameron took a free-kick 25 yards out from goal and belted it 25 yards over the bar. No one was remotely surprised. Marney shot wide on 60. He does that a lot. On 65 the sun came out, but a minute later Duffy and Parkin were eclipsed, replaced upfront by Barmby and a pleasingly vigorous Burgess. On 70 Kyle – it rhymes with guile, but don’t be fooled – sent in a raking 25-yard shot which Myhill had a good sight of and pawed away for a corner with no great alarm. Then, on 82, Marney found space and hit a swerving shot from the edge of the box which Marshall beat away unconvincingly.

At this stage the game had 0-0 written over it, but only with a smallish marker pen, definitely no spraypaint or dancers or flashing lights. But we didn’t even get a measly point. Cov sub Kevin Thornton, who had arrived on the hour, had looked more enterprising than anyone else as he nipped down the left wing, and he won his side the game. Shapeless defence, Thornton cuts inside and takes the shooting opportunity early, and watches as his effort speeds low over the turf, across Boaz and just inside the far post. Decent finish, but ragged play from our defence – and am I being harsh or was Boaz a shade slow in getting down to the shot, as he seemed to me a shade slow to get down to the shot that gave Derby their first goal (the offside one)?

There were four added minutes, in which the main thing that happened was Turner falling over the ball.

Lost 0-1.

Of the starting eleven, four were Parkinson acquisitions: Ricketts, Turner, Marney and Livermore. Ricketts is the most tentative full-back we’ve had since Bobby McNeill. Even Stockdale was more assertive (though frequently only in making assertive errors). Surely Ricketts must be better than this? I’d like to see proof. Soon. Turner is not physically imposing, nor does he seem to have much vocal presence. He looks inferior to Collins, which surely was not the plan. Marney has ability and, in particular, gets forward attractively into shooting positions. So far he’s wasted every single one. Livermore is a cumbersome player who slows the game down when in possession and normally passes sideways. He’s big but weak. I was pleased when we signed him because I wanted to call him the heart of the team and a man with real guts, and even somehow work in a kidney reference, but I really have not taken to him at all. Livermore has been offal. But if it’s meat that’s on the table, let’s not ignore Parkin. The man’s not fit. It’s a disgrace. Add in players who are performing below their true level – Myhill, Dawson – players who have yet to prove they belong at this level – Collins, Duffy, Burgess – players who the manager doesn’t seem to fancy – Welsh, Andrews – players who the manager REALLY doesn’t seem to fancy - Green – players who may once have existed but may well not do anymore – Thelwell and especially McPhee – and … and … well, and nothing. I’m fed up. I’m stopping now. This is not at all what I expected from this season.

HULL CITY (4-4-2): Myhill; Ricketts, Turner, Collins, Dawson; Fagan, Livermore, Marney, France; Parkin, Duffy.  Subs: Barmby (for Duffy, 66), Burgess (for Parkin, 66), Welsh, Thelwell, Duke.

Goals: None

Booked: None

Sent Off: None

COVENTRY CITY: Marshall, Heath, Page, Ward, Hall, Cameron, Hughes, Doyle, Birchall, Kyle, John.  Subs: Adebola (for John, 60), Thornton (for Cameron, 60), Hutchison (for Doyle, 89), Osbourne, Whing.

Goals: Thornton 85

Booked: Kyle, Thornton

Sent Off: None

REFEREE: N Swarbrick

ATTENDANCE: 16,145