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A Jimmy Bullard injury signals a collapse in confidence and form, and the Tigers are easily beaten 3-0 by a powerful Villa side. Report by Ian Thomson. |
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How, as a non-England fan, I chortled on Friday night and yesterday morning, listening to the solemn procession of know-nowt red-top pseudo-pundits and the inevitable rabble of sundry chair-chuckers prematurely acclaiming the motherland's triumph in a tournament in which a ball will not be kicked for another six months, purely on the strength of the usual jammy draw for the Group fixtures. When will they ever learn, I wondered. And how, on a hopelessly-overcrowded train (due in no small measure to legions of laydeez returning home from the Clothes Show) from Birmingham to Leicester, I gloomily reflected on how the general assumption of the Tiger Nation that the corner had now been turned, that we had been re-instilled with a steeliness and resilience that would see us maintain our Premier League status with power to add, that Phil Brown had rediscovered his infallibility from down the back of the armchair in Paul Duffen's office, that this season would once again be the best trip we'd ever been on, was summarily washed away by the incessant rain that fell on Villa Park for much of yesterday's game. When will we ever learn, I wondered. So, why did it all go wrong? Blaming it on the worrying injury to Bullard is too easy: we were already one preventable goal down by then and were fortunate that it was only one. Maybe (or should that be hopefully?) we just have to accept that City are no Villa, and that, in games against manifestly-superior teams such as them, whilst there will be the occasional success such as last week's excellent result at Eastlands, the form book will on the whole not lie and that it's more likely than not that we - along with many others like us - shall be turned over in such games. But that observation takes scant account of the fact that the City management and players were the clear architects of a disquietingly-large slice of their own downfall yesterday. Let's look firstly at the team and formation. One of the key factors behind our early-season success last time and the recent convincing run has been the way in which our heroes have refused to worry about or be overawed by the opposition, and the team selections and formations have reflected that. So why revert to a 4-5-1 yesterday, presumably out of worries over being able to contain Villa's midfield? And why select Altidore as the loan striker? Of all the players on City's books who might be considered as even vaguely suitable to be thrust into a striking role, young Jozy, it is obvious to all (or so I thought) is the one who probably most needs to have a partner. Then there is the Geovanni conundrum. No place for him in the starting XI, and no job for him in the light of Bullard's withdrawal? This again smacks of worrying too much about Villa instead of selecting both Geo and Bullard to start and having a right good old go. Add to these fundamental shortcomings a long list of poor personal displays and you have a powerfully-destructive mix. I'm sorry to say it, but Myhill just has to be selected for the next game. In fact, damn it, no, I'm not sorry to say it: there have been question marks about Matty Duke's performances over the last few weeks - some deservedly so, some not - but by any objective analysis two of the Villa goals yesterday were the result of extremely poor judgement on his part. And by no means was Duke the only one: after a much-improved couple of performances the old frailties at full-back were once again worryingly-apparent, there was flakiness and uncertainty in central defence where last week there had been composure, concentration and decisiveness, and, whilst Hunt and Boateng toiled honestly and were probably our best performers Garcia was out of his depth and Marney turned in a performance that Hylda Baker, adopting her Nellie Pledge persona, would have described as "unanimous". The other frustrating thing about yesterday was that Villa were not really any great shakes themselves. Granted, they raced strongly out of the traps and put us under pressure early on, but once we had gifted them a couple of goals did sod all else. Of course, it's arguable that they didn't need to as the game was sewn up by them, but a really good side would have taken us apart after a start like the one they had, and they proved incapable of doing that, But we looked equally incapable of putting the skids under them, and as the game wore on it frankly died to such an extent that I was dreaming of my post-match eggnog latte in Starbucks with fully twenty-five minutes left on the clock. On a cold, miserable West Midlands day, City lined up as follows:- Duke City apparently won the toss, evidenced by Villa kicking towards the Holte in the first half, in front of a nearly-full house with the exception of the corporate seats on the far side which were barely half-full, no doubt a cause of concern for Mr Lerner. And before the first "Empty Seats" taunt had been completed by the City following - smaller than last season's - tucked high up in the corner of the Doug Ellis Stand, we were almost one down, as a slick Villa move ends with a Young effort whizzing just wide of the far post. Then, with a mere seven minutes on the clock, Heskey beats what passes for a City offside trap but shoots tamely wide. This, however is a brief respite, as the home side continue to keep City firmly under the cosh, although for all that the manner in which their first goal arrives, on 13 minutes, is desperately disappointing. Duke has no choice but to push a teasing Milner lob over the bar. The resulting corner is half-heartedly cleared, and Milner plants the leather back to the feet of Dunne, in the City box and with no amber shirt seemingly within a square light year or more of him. The Villan has bags of time to control Milner's ball and fire powerfully into the net via the crossbar. Defending that would have shamed a pub team, frankly. And then we lose Bullard. The challenge in which he's involved seems relatively innocuous, but he spends a long time getting treatment and then, almost immediately, goes down again without a Villa player near him. The problem seems to be with his left knee, as opposed to the right one which was the cause of his recent long lay-off, but that's of small immediate consolation: this is curtains, not only for this game but for goodness knows how long, and Master Bullard knows it, leaving the field to generous applause but reportedly in tears and lamenting, "It's facked" to the City bench. The results of tomorrow's scan on the knee will be anxiously awaited in Tigerland, but the fact that a scan is required at all suggests that it's not an injury that can be run off. Recollection of the same thing happening to Ash in the corresponding fixture last season only adds density to the pall of gloom now hanging over the City support. On 21 we manage a corner (Villa have had four by this time) which Gardner heads over. This is a fleeting moment of cheer, though: we look to be all over the place, and our general ineptitude during this period is epitomised by Aston's second goal, shortly before the half-hour. There didn't seem to be that much danger in the ball down the inside-right channel, especially as Daws seemed to have it covered and would, at worst, concede a corner. That was until the Duke had other ideas, and came charging out of his goal to head the ball out of play and straight into the hands of Sidwell, warming up on the touchline If it had really been necessary for Duke's intervention, it ought to have occurred to him that the only safe thing to do would be to control the ball and hoof it into the top of the three seating tiers at that side of the ground. But he didn't, and the outcome was pathetically predictable: a quick throw to Milner who chipped the leather nonchalantly over the head of the back-pedalling Zayatte into the now-unguarded onion bag with Duke spectating from some distance away. Totally embarrassing. The game is effectively lost now, but referee Attwell is taking no chances, waving play on when Hunt gets upended in the D, and awarding Villa a free-kick when two City players get in each other's way. We are, however, at least starting to play a bit now, although the final two scares of the half are played out at the end that City are defending. On 41 Downing goes on an unchallenged run and shoots over when, having been left well alone by the City rearguard, he ought at least to have found the target. The second pre-interval scare is self inflicted, as Zayatte, in injury time, diverts a free-kick towards his own goal, but fortunately for us Duke reacts alertly and tips the leather over. The task of performing one's ablutions and obtaining refreshment is an unpleasant chore due to the ridiculously-constricted layout of the concourses (one wonders what arguments are used to avoid by Villa to discourage elf n' safety from reducing the capacity of the entire stand to the 500 or so who would be able to exit safely in the event of a fire), and a bunch of post-2007 goons loudly signing "We were here when we were shit": yeah, right. The second half was remarkable for the absence of memorable incident. We don't, mecifully, look about to be overwhelmed at any particular point and this clearly is not going to be another Anfield, but there's always the nagging fear that Villa are not dominating things for the simple reason that they do not need to. Anyway, on 51 Friedel, under pressure from Altidore, pouches a Gardner header from a Hunt free-kick, and then the game's best moment (if you're of the amber persuasion) then arrives on the hour, when Fagan gathers, cuts inside (itself arguably a measure of how much Villa have switched off, although that's maybe hard on young Craig) and hits a fine drive which beats Friedel all ends up but clatters back off the junction of post and bar with Hunt just unable to scramble home the rebound. Another ten minutes on though, and the game is well and truly dead now, with the atmosphere non-existent. The Villa park of my youth used to be a bear-pit, especially the Holte, which was for a short while, after the bulldozers had moved in on the immense South Bank at Molineux, the largest terraced end in England. But now the two-tiered stand, the retaining by which of the Holte name besmirches the memory of that erstwhile terrace, resembles more closely the venue for a convention of Trappist monks than anything else that can be summoned to mind. Even the City fans have by now lost interest in the game in favour of baiting the overly-officious stewards. Back in the 70s Villa Park was the setting for a game that famously lasted a mere 78 minutes, when the referee at a pre-season friendly decided to call proceedings to a premature halt out of terror at the boisterous high jinks of the visiting Rangers fans, and I doubt whether anyone on either side would have cared much if yesterday's game had been similarly curtailed. At least it would have spared us (and Matt Duke in particular) a further embarrassment three minutes from time, when the City custodian raced off his line to challenge Young and recklessly sent him sprawling. Goodness knows why: the angle was narrow and there was cover, and if Young had managed to score in those circumstances from the position where he was felled I personally would have applauded what would have been a fine effort. Carew, who had come on for Heskey, strode up and fired the spot kick low to Duke's right as the latter dived left. After that the only talking point, save for a Barmby header that went just wide in the final minute of normal time, was the five minutes' added time played by Attwell. It would have been interesting to see if much money had been staked in the Far East on a 4-0 Villa win. Anyway, the whistle eventually sounds to a half-empty stadium, and so endeth a singularly undistinguished afternoon. The interesting thing now is the question of what will happen next. Before yesterday, things looked much more rosy on the preservation of Premier League status front, but the paucity of excellence and professionalism on show yesterday - coupled with the very real possibility that we could be without our main playmaker for at least a few games and maybe many more - throws that all once again into severe doubt. Also called back into doubt once more is the position of Browny, who, having looked to have bought himself the confidence of our saintly chairman and some time to prove his worth, reverted to early-season type in terms of his team selection, formation and apparent approach to the game. Yesterday was the last City game I shall see until Chelsea, as a prior engagement next weekend followed by spending Christmas and New Year in Ghana will put paid to my City-watching in the interim. In that spell, we have two games that we shall lose and two in which we really need - in the interests of preserving self-belief as much as our League position - to garner at least four points. If we don't get them, the temptation for the Chariman to remove Browny ere my return may prove too compelling to resist. |
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HULL CITY (4-5-1): Duke; McShane, Zayatte, Gardner, Dawson; Garcia, Boateng, Bullard, Marney, Hunt; Altidore. Subs: Fagan (for Bullard, 20), Barmby (for Altidore, 54), Vennegoor of Hesselink (for Marney, 77), Kilbane, Mouyokolo, Geovanni, Myhill. Goals: None Booked: Duke, Fagan, Marney Sent Off: None
ASTON VILLA: Friedel, Warnock, Cuellar, Dunne, L Young, Downing, Milner, A Young, Petrov, Heskey, Agbonlahor. Subs: Carew (for Heskey, 78), Sidwell, Reo-Coker, Guzan, Delph, Clark, Beye. Goals: Dunne 13; Milner 29; Carew (pen) 88 Booked: A Young, Cuellar, L Young, Petrov Sent Off: None
REFEREE: S Attwell ATTENDANCE: 39,748 |
Last revised: December 25, 2009