Another dreadful result, as the Tigers are rolled over by Sunderland after a reasonable first half.  Inevitably Michael Turner has a strong influence on his debut, while City's puzzling team selections continue to cede initiative to the opposition.

Report by Mike Scott.

Birmingham, Wigan, Portsmouth. City's next three home games. Phil Brown's last three chances.

I take no pleasure in saying it - but I believe that Phil Brown is now on the verge of the sack. City's descent may have been temporarily abated by a win against hapless Bolton, but the falling feeling returned today against Sunderland, who fielded a nervous debutant in the back four and an ineffectual striker up front (both ex-Tigers, alarmingly). City completely, utterly and gut-wrenchingly allowed a decidedly average Black Cats side to trounce them 4-1. It was a performance that started poorly, then got a lot worse, then got temporarily better, then sank without trace. The manager was unable to influence the game positively when it was being played, and his only pre-match influence was to weaken City considerably with his selections. Phil Brown is beginning to get things consistently wrong, being wrong in ways that are screamingly obvious to the casual piss artist observer - i.e. me.

City's 2009/10 chances took a blow over the summer with less than inspiring signings (only Ghilas looked anything like a worthwhile pick today from the summer crop, Hunt was subdued after a tidy start while the near-forgotten Zayatte was my City MOTM). Those chances then took a further substantial kick in the cobblers with the loss of Michael Turner. Phil Brown may think that these are matters beyond his control. He'd be wrong. As manager he creates an image for his club that should be attractive to new players and existing (good) players alike. He hasn't done that - the received wisdom in the game is now that, fairly or not, Phil Brown is a twat ... steer clear.

And then there are today's managerial decisions. Kilbane as midfield enforcer ... aw c'mon, get stuffed. Craig Fagan as lone striker ... you're kidding, right? Nope. Phil Brown got this stupendously wrong. It showed. Sunderland, average at best, were made to look world beaters. Cattermole and Cana, workmanlike Teessider and Albanian midfield engine roomers respectively, were given the time and space to spray passes around largely unimpeded. Turner, evidently nervous at the start, had the aerial threat of 4 foot 3 Craig Fagan to contend with - one last leaving present from his ex-boss. Scratch pairing Zayatte and Sonko were given the task of introducing themselves to each other's game while marking an England striker. Actually they did a reasonable job for an hour or so - but a well managed club doesn't allow itself to slide into such circumstances. I honestly think we might be a very poorly run club just now - on the field. And the management takes the full blame for that.

A warm and sunny North East afternoon saw a throng of 40-ish thousand gather on the north bank of the Wear to see City, perplexingly given the artillery either on the bench and in Newcastle's medical room, line up:

Myhill McShane Sonko Zayatte Dawson Ghilas Olofinjana Kilbane Hunt Geovanni Fagan

A team captained by debutant McShane - that was witless motivational management bulls**t. A back three featuring only one City regular this season - that was avoidable, given that Brown probably knew in mid August that Turner would leave. A midfield that included Kevin Kilbane in a central role - that just beggars belief after his recent showings. We looked good out wide, Ghilas and Hunt have been our best players this season so far (of the ones we still hold the registration of). We subbed off Ghilas after an hour and introduced the modern day American equivalent of Keith Bertschin. Altidore? - I'm not yet exactly a fan.

The opening exchanges were dominated by Sunderland as they sought to work the ball into well-populated wide positions and deliver crosses. Reid did this very well, supported on the left by the odious Richardson. Malbranque was less effective on the right, but dribbled inside a lot. City's only early threat came on 10 minutes when Olofinjana, who played pretty poorly in the main as controls clanged off him and passes span wildly in random directions, got one pass right and fed the advancing Geovanni down the inside right channel. Geo dribbled forwards 20 yards and planted a deflected shot just past the far post. That corner came to nothing, yet when a minute later Sunderland also had a corner it was with some bemusement that Fagan, in a position beyond the far post and away from goal, handled it very obviously and for little apparent reason. Bent duly blasted the penalty past Myhill's outstretched hand, who had at least guessed the right way.

Sunderland dominated now and bested City in possession for 20 minutes without really creating chances. Our tactic of lumping the ball up to "Big Craig", as he has never ever been known, was certainly assisting the Mackems' cause. But as the half wore on so Sunderland's dominance eased, and City found a bit of space to create chances. Geovanni combined with Fagan wide right and contrived a low cross past Ferdinand's outstretched foot that very nearly found a less-than-marked Kilbane 12 yards from goal. Then Olofinjana lofted a high ball into the path of nippy Ghilas, who the Sunderland back four assumed was offside. He wasn't, but unfortunately it seemed that young Kamel was also expecting a whistle and he failed to control a ball that, if trapped, would have presented him with a free shot at Gordon's goal from 16 yards. Hunt rattled a shot into Gordon's gloves after Fagan had scurried clear of Richardson down the right. Then Hunt won and took a free kick that encouraged Zayatte to back-head an effort goalwards but straight at Gordon. McShane and Cattermole were both booked for obvious handballs. Richardson wasn't booked for a nasty chop on Hunt, and the resulting attack culminated in Zayatte heading onto the roof of the net from Sonko's lengthy Stokesque throw.

It was a period of play where City had the upper hand, we simply had to score. Domination will not be common place for the Tigers this season, we must exploit it when it comes along. And so we did. We won a free kick that was fizzed across the face of goal by Geovanni and flicked a Sunderlander's bonce. The flag kick was delivered flat and hard, and Zayatte rose at the back post to nod home via the near post. Young Kamil looked immediately trepidatious as he remembered the vicious clothes line treatment that he suffered the last time he scored in a League game, at The Hawthorns last season. But Ian Ashbee was nowhere to be seen so he cavorted without fear in front of a bubbling City faithful. The team selection was rubbish, but we'd established a foothold - go Tigers!

Then it was half time. And that was it. It could be said that City took their foot off Sunderland's neck and let them back into the game. It could be said that City capitulated totally and allowed Sunderland to steam roller us. Whatever the precise instructions might have been at half time, it was immediately evident that City's were duff and Sunderland's were excellent. Within 3 minutes Bent teed up Campbell unmarked eight yards from goal, but Myhill blocked superbly at the cash-loving young tyro's feet. But the ball wasn't cleared and when it was returned into the box it found Reid, rumbling unmarked into the box from the left flank 12 yards out, who struck a low shot past Myhill's blameless grasp and inside the far post. McShane's whereabouts were not clear at this moment in time, but Reid was definitely "his man".

On 55 we had another corner that caused a degree of panic in the Sunderland box before being cleared, but we were creating nothing in open play. We needed a bigger target up front to play off. And hey presto!, Phil Brown rummaged down the back of the dugout and discovered that he'd nominated six foot three proven goalscoring striker Jan Vennegoor of Hesselink as a substitute. "Result," thought Phil and he bought him on for Fagan. "A master stroke there, Phil," Phil muttered proudly to Phil, perhaps failing to realise that J-Voh would have been of better use starting the game. Still, Brown finally managed to do the right thing, fair play - except four minutes later, as Cana (on a yellow) got away with yet another hack at a City player, Phil had a brainwave. "Take off Ghilas, put Altidore on," said Phil ... to Phil. "Nice one boss," Phil proclaimed proudly. And so Ghilas, along with Geovanni our chief threat, was withdrawn and Altidore came on. Altidore is like a pair of skin-tight shorts and a pair of rollerblades on a gay man. Looks great in California or New York, looks bloody awful in the North East of England.

A regulation clearance from Sunderland's backline saw three quarters of our defence springing an offside trap while the other quarter, an inattendant Sonko, casually inspected the dirt under his fingernails. Bent, a very fine player as it goes, raced behind City's defence bearing down directly and menacingly on Myhill's goal. Campbell stood totally unmarked square of Bent as he reached the edge of the six yard box, but the man in possession wisely slotted the ball past Myhill himself rather than tee up Campbell for a tap-in that would inevitably encourage the former Tiger to perform an ill-advised inflammatory goal celebration in front of the City supporters, some of whom had booed him constantly throughout the game. Three-one and City heads dropped.

Altidore had a distant shot trickle well wide and City again looked threatening from a corner as J-Voh, who was largely ineffective now the game was lost, showed good strength down the left. On 70 City's fortunes were summed up when a corner was taken short to an unmarked Geovanni and the twinkle toed Brazilian struck a firm goalwards shot from a narrow angle that clopped McShane right in the guts before bouncing away for a goal kick. Moments later two Sunderland free kicks were followed by a corner from City's left, which was turned home by a combination of Michael Turner and one of our defenders. Turner, a fine chap, jogged away without fuss or celebration, noting that the goal was converted right in front of City's massed throng.

I got a bit frustrated now and made few further notes, but I do recall Reid thumping a free kick wide on City's left directly at the near post of the goal, forcing Myhill into a scrambling parry. Mendy came on for Kilbane - not the scariest substitution ever made in Premier League history , I'll wager - and the brainy Mensah came on for Bardsley, offering the opportunity for an IQ related pun if only your correspondent could be arsed. Into injury time we won a final corner as Geovanni and J-Voh combined promisingly, but this one came to nought.

This was ugly. Our baffling team selection was followed by a second half performance of increasing disorganisation and disinterest. The stats don't lie - three wins in 34 Prem games - and any sane club would be questioning the manager's position very seriously now. Three home games that are all winnable - let's see what you've got, Philip.

HULL CITY (4-4-1-1): Myhill; McShane, Sonko, Zayatte, Dawson; Ghilas, Olofinjana, Kilbane, Hunt; Geovanni; Fagan.  Subs: Vennegoor of Hesselink (for Fagan, 58), Altidore (for Ghilas, 64), Mendy (for Kilbane, 77), Boateng, Halmosi, Barmby, Duke.

Goals: Zayatte 43

Booked: McShane, Olofinjana

Sent Off: None

SUNDERLAND: Gordon, Bardsley, Ferdinand, Turner, Richardson, Malbranque, Cana, Cattermole, Reid, Campbell, Bent.  Subs: Jones (for Bent, 74), Mensah (for Bardsley, 77), Da Silva (for Malbranque, 81), Murphy, Carson, Nosworthy, Henderson.

Goals: Bent 13 (pen), 66; Reid 49; Zayatte (og) 75

Booked: Cana, Cattermole

Sent Off: None

REFEREE:    M Atkinson

ATTENDANCE: 38,997