A result of potentially immense significance, the Tigers travel to high flying big money spending West Bromwich and return with three points thanks to superb strikes by Fraizer Campbell and Caleb Folan.

Report by Ian Thomson.

Boing Boing Phut. Ha!

I know that, for those of us of, ahem, advancing years, it becomes increasingly difficult successfully and accurately to exercise one's powers of recollection, but let us all try to cast our minds back to a little over a season and a half ago, and the first game of last season: our previous visit to the Hawthorns, no less. On that day, whilst we were a shade unlucky with the foul on Welshy at the death going unpunished, we were for long periods, especially during the first half, comprehensively taken apart by a more skilful, faster, more canny and altogether more formidable Baggies outfit, fresh from the Premiership and expectant of a swift return. But yesterday's stirring encounter at the League's highest ground showed just what progress we have made in the interim. Progress which, or at least the pace of which, few City fans of the pre-2002 school would have expected if we're honest.

We have seen some epic Tiger performances in recent years, and yesterday's will without doubt in years to come deservedly be talked about in the same breath as the greatest of those. The second-half showing from City was as fine a forty-five minutes as we have turned in for a long time, and was all the more commendable by dint of coming on the back as a spell of sustained Albion pressure at the back end of the first half which saw the home side get back on level terms and left Tigerfolk - both on the field and off it - decidedly relieved to hear the half-time whistle.

Granted, we have been bedevilled by inconsistency of late, especially at home, and that is something that we are going to have to address if we are going to play our part in the home straight of the Great Play-Off Chase. But even the most sceptical about our credentials in that regard would surely have to concede that, on the strength of what we saw yesterday, we really can dare to believe. It honestly isn't a fantasy: we can do this!

Phil Brown has had his detractors, and at times the stick he has received has been well-merited. So let's show what fair-minded people we are and make sure that he picks up the bouquets this weekend. He took a risk by picking a veritably adventurous line up, and reaped the reward for his endeavour. Looking at the wider picture, Brown has moulded a team of real credibility and enhanced his own credibility in the process. Two-thirds of a season after we escaped relegation by the thickness of a fag paper, we suddenly look at our most effective since the days when we had a young blood by the name of Brian Horton as manager. Whatever happened to him?

And how fitting in so many ways that the Hawthorns should provide the stage for City to give notice of their capabilities. Firstly, the men from the Black Country have in the eyes of many been the most accomplished outfit we have faced in the last couple of campaigns, and so to beat them at home, and deservedly so, was all the more significant for that. And secondly, I used to regard West Brom as an outfit that it was impossible to dislike, a good honest community club bereft of pretensions, but to my eyes a lot of that wholesomeness and self-awareness has been swept away of late, doubtless as a result of their having tasted life in the Premiership. The once-engaging supporters now seem to assume that their team are going to win as a matter of course, whilst the club generally seems to have adopted the mindset that they are actually a Premiership club simply marking time before they are restored to their rightful place, as evidenced by such spectacles as the showing of the Premiership scores before the Championship ones on the scoreboard and the ludicrously pretentious musical prelude to the teams coming out. One wonders whether they will end up rueing their hubris come the season's end.

The weather in the West Midlands was dry, overcast and milder than of late.  The starting line-up raised a few eyebrows as well as muttered observations along the lines of "Ash is going to have to graft today" (and he certainly did). With Garcia back and Dawson recalled, we lined up thus:-

Myhill
Ricketts Turner Brown Dawson
Garcia Ashbee Okocha Pedersen
Campbell Folan

The West Midlands Metro having proved itself to be more reliable than was the case last season, my chums and I arrived at the Hawthorns at the uncommonly early hour of twenty to three, which allowed us to enjoy the delights of the pre-match entertainment in the guise of the Fusion Dance Co, which seemed to consist of a troupe of barely-pubescent young ladies, unco-ordinated of garb, gyrating around unchoreographed to some taped music. Some wag in my hearing wryly observed that this was probably all part of some apprenticeship for the trade of Footballer's Wife, but the more disturbing impression with which the onlooker was left is that if this is what floats the boat of yer average Black Country male it doesn't exactly portray them in a meritorious light.

Whatever, we kicked off towards the Birmingham Road End, away from the City support, probably around 1500 strong and in fine voice, tucked away in one corner of the Smethwick End as usual. As at Norwich, there seemed to be a little bit of difficulty in accommodating those for whom it's essential to stay at the bar until the kick-off, but the latecomers and those disturbed by them missed nothing as the early stages were a characteristically cagey affair, notable only for referee Tanner awarding the Baggies a couple of dodgy frees, some pain in the fundament banging a drum in the home bit of the Smethwick, and City's opening foray proper, in which a Ricketts free kick is cleared out of the box and Ash's return is diverted by Campbell but Kiely in the home goal saves confidently. Even at this early stage, though, Okocha is perceptibly enjoying himself and the hesitancy evident in the West Brom ranks whenever the Nigerian finds himself in possession of the leather means that our adventurous midfield line-up looks comfortable in the opening exchanges.

On 9 Folan becomes the first of a procession of City players to see yellow, probably deservedly so after clattering Albrechtsen, and it has to be said that this marks out something of a pattern which marks the rest of the game: City were no more physical than West Brom at any time during the game but certainly seemed to be subjected to the sharper end of Mr Tanner's whistle and notebook on the whole.

They seem to be getting back into it after we probably had slightly the better of the early stages, looking a touch more confident (as you would expect of a side who had found the onion bag 39 times at home before yesterday and had won 5-0 away the previous week) and quicker in thought than us. Despite this though, the next incidents of real note both occur at the far end, when firstly on 18 an Okocha cross is whipped in from the left and a jittery Baggie glances the ball with his head towards the home net only for Kiely to make a fine diving save. Three minutes later, and we win our first corner. Folan robs Greening inside our half, the Albion man stays down expecting to hear a toot of Mr Tanner's Acme Thunderer, but none is forthcoming and our record signing races away and his cross is diverted behind. No joy from the corner, but we have the home defence in a proper flap again as Ash, Okocha and Pedersen combine and after some panic in the box that would have done justice to Laurel and Hardy the ball is cleared - just.

The home players are rattled now, and so are the home crowd. It may have been that I was concentrating on the game, but I don't remember hearing that drum during this spell of the game: also, the home fans have by this stage taken to baying for a foul at every challenge made by a City player, a sure sign that their pre-match cockiness has been slapped out of them.

In fact there are 26 minutes on the clock before the home side give us our first scare, and it comes courtesy of Gera, who cuts inside Pedersen and drives the leather low across the face of the City goal.

But we soon cap half an hour of being the more threatening and enterprising team by taking a deserved lead. But that rather prosaic statement doesn't do it justice. Nay, it was surely a goal that would have graced any game at any level, and had it been crafted in a Premiership game you could have bet your Northern Rock account that it would have featured in every Sky Sports football trailer for an entire season. There was really nothing on as Okocha found himself flat-footed with the leather at his feet just inside the City half, or at least there wouldn't have been for any player less gifted than Okocha (I don't make a habit of ostentatiously agreeing with the Professor, but his suggestion that Jay-Jay is the most naturally skilful Tiger since Carter looks a fair call). The City number 44 checks and then threads a pin-point ball, curving slightly, through a packed midfield to the feet of Campbell. He and Folan look too close to each other, but the Manyoo loanee breaks off to the right. The Albion defence is suddenly exposed and backs off nervously, Kiely is six yards off his line, and young Fraizer takes advantage of both of these things to curl a sublime shot from nearly 25 yards over and round the diving Kiely and just inside his left-hand post.

Tigertastic!

Almost from the restart, though, and with the noise from the City support threatening to raise the roof of the stand, the Brom realise that they're in a game and get their act together. The midfield starts to use its width better and pushes up, Phillips starts to roam around a little more freely, and suddenly Albion look fluent, menacing and in search of Tiger blood. They nearly get it too within about three minutes as Gera heads in a cross from the right, but he's marginally offside (as the video replay shows) and the Tiger Nation's relief at this is compounded as many of the home support alongside us haven't clocked the linesman's flag and are still leaping around and punching the air as the City taunts begin.

But we are fighting a rearguard action now. We concede our first corner on 36, and then a low drive is pouched by Myhill (who incidentally looked to be wearing a pair of West Brom socks: can anyone shed any light on this?). Shortly afterwards Boaz can only parry another effort and the ball runs loose to Gera who fires wide but agonisingly close from a narrow angle, and almost immediately makes yet another save, this time from Bednar after a lack of concentration in the City box allows the shooting opportunity.

The Baggies are looking likely to score at any minute now, however, and on 43 Bednar duly obliges. Phillips, taking advantage of a bit too much space as he drifts out to their right, is able to prod in an astute cross and Bednar, timing his run to perfection and (just!) played onside by Brown, steals unchallenged into the box and plants a firm downward header past Myhill.

It could have got worse too. Turner uncharacteristically fails to run the ball out properly and allows Bednar to get a shot in from a narrow angle which Boaz diverts round the near post with his foot for a corner, messily cleared. But we get through to half time (after 2 minutes' injury time added on for no apparent reason other than that West Brom were looking a good bet to nick another goal).

Since I always manage to find some half-time axe to grind, this time it's the arseholes who were slinging racist abuse at the Asian guy behind the kiosk counter because they were not serving beer at half-time (we never quite seem to rid ourselves of this poison, do we?). But there's a welcome chance as well to see Campbell's superlative strike on the concourse screens.

More pretentious music, and we're off again, and if truth be told not a little subdued after the pounding that we took during the psychologically-important half-time phase of the match. And the opening minutes of the half live up to our moderated expectations, as firstly a Ricketts slip on 49 lets them in but the shot is weak, then Myhill has to dive coruageously at the feet of Bednar to deny him, and then Turner earns himself a booking and, apparently, a suspension for Ashton Gate next week for a late challenge (not sure on whom). When we do get the ball we seem all unco-ordinated, the front two in particular looking to be on different wavebands, never mind wavelengths, probably not helped by the fact that Folan is reluctant to get too stuck in after his early carding.

These are indeed tense times for the onlooking Tiger support, but maybe we underestimate just how much character and resilience we have these days, for, these initial scares over, we start to claw our way back into the game and re-assert ourselves.

And indeed, within another few minutes we come unexpectedly but tantalisingly close to restoring our advantage. Folan chases a bouncing ball towards the home box, Kiely comes charging out recklessly and gets in the way of a defender and the leather drops eventually to Campbell, eighteen yards out and with the goal unguarded except by Barnett who has got back to cover. Fraizer steadies himself and powers the leather goalwards on the half volley……straight at the bonce of Barnett and away. Had Campbell put it a couple of feet either side we would have been back in front, but fine defending nevertheless I suppose. Sadly, we make a hash by over-elaborating at the resultant corner and Daws – who had a decent game as he always does when coming back into the team – is forced to bring down Gera as the home side break, earning himself both a booking and the boos of the home support for much of the remainder of the afternoon.

Folan is involved again on 56, firing in a shot from an acute angle, pouched by Kiely, after a Marney break. Okocha, Campbell and Ash then combine on the hour, culminating in the latter’s shot being saved.

And so the pendulum has swung again. It’s all us now, the traumas of the end of the first half behind us. Albion withdraw Phillips, Bednar and Greening in quick succession, even though there’s still the best part of a quarter of the game to go. It’s not clear what they intend to achieve by this: one theory is the injection of more pace given that we are amassing a nice selection of yellow cards, another simply could have been the fact that, instead of surrendering the initiative as looked likely at half-time, City seemed to have snatched it back and things were clearly not going to plan in the way that Tony Mowbray had anticipated.

And how we seemed to have snatched it back. On 64 Okocha has the ball in space again and you can almost smell the fear. The ball is released to Campbell who fires the leather across the face of the goal. A minute later, and Folan gets up to a free kick but the header is pouched by Kiely.

Another dry-mouth moment for us though on 66, when one of theirs goes crashing to the ground when under pressure from the already-booked Turner. The ref reaches for his pocket, but the dismay of the City support turns into relief as Mr Tanner brandishes a yellow for diving. Okocha is then clattered on 70 but the referee opts not to brandish his yellow card for the second time in five minutes. The City number 44, who has been positively mercurial and hard-working, but probably starting to flag a little, is then substituted a minute later in favour of the fresh legs of Marney. This doesn’t seem to check our stride at all, though, and the threat from the Baggies remains surprisingly negligible.

We force a couple of corners in quick succession around the 76 minute mark, and from the second of these, a short one involving France and Dawson, Ash – who had an extremely solid game throughout (one wonders how much the overall improvement in his form over the season is down to the influence of Brian Horton) – puts a looping header just over. Still the only attacking comes from us, and a raking Pedersen cross is put behind on 80.

At half-time, it looked as though we would be well and truly seen off in the second half, but the home side – resorting increasingly to hitting and hoping instead of the flowing, incisive football they were playing before the break - have barely posed a threat to our well-marshalled and industrious rearguard, and as we enter the last ten minutes it looks as thought our point may be safe after all.

Little did we know it was to get a whole lot better! Oh yes! On 82, the ball comes out to Folan on the left some distance from goal. There seemed not much of a threat, and to be honest there ought not to have been, but suddenly he cuts inside one challenge, accelerates, cuts across another, suddenly West Brom are wide open and the goal is in sight, and Caleb needs no second invitation as he rifles a fierce low drive from the edge of the box across Kiely and into the bottom corner.

Total Tiger Mayhem. And suddenly the cocky West Brom fans are leaving the Hawthorns in droves, seemingly knowing that the game was up. There follow a couple of anxious moments though: firstly when we concede a free kick for handball on 86 and the ball is curled just over the bar, and even more so in the last minute of normal time when Gera implausibly blows the last and best chance of the game, firing over an open goal cross which whizzes across the face of the net after Ricketts has for once been skinned on the other side.

But we can breathe again, though, and a cross by Marney which is cleared right on the 90 proves to be the final attack of the game, the home side, sensing no doubt that they have been undone by the greater endeavour and doggedness of their opponents, offering no threat of any note in the four minutes of added time. Indeed, the only incident of note during injury time occurs in the third of the four minutes when Folan’s attempted break is halted by a scything challenge which goes completely unpunished. But even Mr Tanner’s worst isn’t going to help the Brom now, and we are home and dry for our best result of the season. One half of the Smethwick end erupts at the final whistle, and by the time the exuberant celebrations of the players and fans come to an end the rest of the ground is virtually empty.

A classic performance in which every Tiger played his part. The contributions of Ash and Dawson have already been mentioned, but in truth it was a team effort. Boaz was pretty faultless. The defence was as solid as it has been all season (and needed to be against such free-scoring opponents), with Turner looking a far tougher proposition than when he was being routinely skinned in the corresponding fixture last season. The midfield made up for its lack of defensive muscle with a tireless display which kept their Baggie counterparts at bay and stifled for long periods (Garcia’s return was welcome but the fact that he tired in the end was not surprising), and despite an occasional lack of understanding between the front two they grafted away with endeavour and a top-drawer goal apiece was a just reward. And let’s not forget that, after two indifferent results at the Circle the pressure was really on to get some reward from two of our hardest away games of the season. As several people have rightly commented, it’s doubtful whether Bristol City are looking forward to our visit next week.

Yes, when the only disappointments of the day turn out to be the fact that nobody in the pub could remember the identity of the leading brand of 1970s hostess trolley, and that fellow Tiger Chat match reporter Mike Scott has turned into an elf n’ safety zealot, you know it’s not been a bad’ un.

HULL CITY (4-4-2): Myhill; Ricketts, Turner, Brown, Dawson; Garcia, Ashbee, Okocha, Pedersen; Campbell, Folan.  Subs: France (for Garcia, 69), Marney (for Okocha, 71), Walton (for Campbell, 83), Bridges, Tyler.

Goals: Campbell 29; Folan 82

Booked: Dawson, Folan, Garcia, Turner

Sent Off: None

WEST BROMWICH ALBION: Kiely, Hoefkens, Barnett, Albrechtsen, Robinson, Gera, Koren, Greening, Morrison, Bednar, Phillips.  Subs: Miller (for Bednar, 61), Moore (for Phillips, 61), Teixeira (for Greening, 72), Pele, Brunt.

Goals: Bednar 42

Booked: Miller, Morrison

Sent Off: None

REFEREE:   S Tanner

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