Despite late chances, City fail to beat a Birmingham side whose thoughts were more related to beachwear and late night dancing, than beating the Tigers at football.  A goalless draw just about keeps the unlikely dream alive for a further week.

Report by Matthew Rudd.

Boaz Myhill may be a sharp dresser. He may be a fantastic dancer. He may be a lively conversationalist. But, unless he can kick with confidence, all his fancy dressing, dancing and talking won't get him, erm, a place in the Hull City side.

Trying to paraphrase Lyn Goldsmith, aka Will Powers, when referring to the eye-opening preference for Matt Duke shown by Iain Dowie for this alleged "win or shit it" fixture in the grottier section of the second city may not work after all. But there it is. Look it up under "quirky narrative Top 20 hits of 1983 featuring an uncredited Carly Simon" on Google, if you must. The point was that Duke played and Myhill didn't, and seemingly only because Myhill's ability to stick a size 11 through a football with any acceptable force has retired to the nearest hostelry of late. It's hard to believe he was directly blamed for any of Burnley's goals, after all.

It was a team change that had been mooted but, in Dowie's defence, perhaps he did need to see what Duke really did have to offer. We know the truth, but ultimately the change in custodian bore little difference as the second-string City stopper had little more to do than catch some crosses and shake his head despairingly at Kevin Kilbane. This is because Birmingham are already square on the beach, windbreak erected, sand in their navel, eyeing up the topless German 19 year olds and trying to calm down the first infant tantrum over crushed sandcastles. For they it was as guileless as goalless could be, yet through our eyes it was brimming with hope and possibility, and City should have damned well won it.

Dowie tinkered again with the team, correctly, beyond the alteration in goal. Had there not been some lambs coated in their own blood after last week's atrocities, the outcry would have been beyond basic human description. That one player thrown benchwards was Jozy Altidore seemed to pass people by, as at least Caleb Folan was nowhere to be seen as the alternative.

Being mispronounced by the second most bombastic announcer in the Premier League were:

Duke
McShane Sonko Mouyokolo Dawson
Fagan Bullard Boateng Cairney Kilbane
Vennegoor of Hesselink

A lazy get works the Birmingham scoreboard. They called our handy but still overheralded Dutch frontman 'Venegor', therefore both abbreviating and twice-misspelling his name, which is some achievement. However, there was a City fan present who had 'Vennegoor of Haskins' brassrubbed on to the back of his shirt, so we should be grateful for small mercies.

Jimmy Bullard and Tom Cairney, with George Boateng acting as bouncer in retreat of them, just seems to work. It helped that Bullard felt like going forward at St Andrew's and far less frequently took the default option of playing the ball to a member of the back four, something that earned him merited and extended criticism within the Burnley genocide of the previous weekend. However, Cairney really is special. Incisive, nippy, confident, natural - we just look a better team with him in it. And if that means putting five in the midfield then so be it.

It was a warm day, reminiscent of those spring footballing occasions where the meaning of the fixture can largely recline its seat as all has been decided for the season. However, the last time we were at that stage with five games left was in 2006 in Peter Taylor's final campaign, and even then there were some mild glances over the shoulder going on. Fortunately, however, Birmingham had decided the game was entirely without purpose or method and so the Tigers took the initiative. Dominant is pushing it, but involved is certainly a worthy description.

City only struggled once in the early stages, when Birmingham won a corner that seemed dealt with until a slipshod pass gave James McFadden, talented but easily the Premier League's biggest moaner, a shooting chance which he put too high. It settled entirely into something of nothing thereafter, as each side enjoyed plenty of midfield possession without much real potential for making the goalkeepers justify all that gobbing on their gloves.

Craig Gardner swung in a free kick that Scott Dann flicked just wide before City finally made a chance. A proper chance. Bullard and Vennegoor of Hesselink delightfully switched passes on the right to send the eager Boateng galloping into room, and his low cross was waiting for Kilbane to stroke home, keeper beaten and out of commission.

Now, let us be kind here. It was at the opposite end and it may well have been a cross that was just too far ahead of an experienced player trying not to stray offside. But the gut instinct was that the ball was perfect and Kilbane, not at all an unintelligent man despite his endless limitations with a football, had timed his run with precision and ruthless accuracy. So either he saw the ball trundle agonisingly too far ahead of his blameless self or let it run under his foot when the net yawned before him like the north-south divide. I know which I believe. But you should decide.

Either way, it was smashing football and a fine opportunity.

Duke got a hand to Gardner's sharp cross shot before Paul McShane sensibly conceded a corner as Cameron Jerome sniffed a rebound. City responded with a couple of long range efforts from Bullard, one of which was straight at Joe Hart and then other deflected away for a corner. In between, the rejuvenated midfielder chipped a tidy diagonal pass on to Vennegoor of Hesselink's brow, and his cushioned nod was blasted high and wide by Craig Fagan.

Steven Mouyokolo, again looking like a defender with real talent, made a tremendous block from Keith Fahey's shot after Boateng lost the ball on the touchline and Birmingham took advantage with a rapid throw in. Cairney then formed an equally impressive barricade from Jerome's effort on the edge of the box, with Lee Bowyer heading the second chance on to the roof of the goal. A little hairy, but Duke wasn't having to work and City were putting the bodies in the way.

Duke then saved dramatically to his right from Bowyer's curling drive, a save as much for the photographers as it was for the good of the Tigers cause, before City ended the half strongly with Andy Dawson crossing wickedly for Vennegoor of Hesselink to aim a bullet near post header for goal, only to see Hart paw it away with admirable reflexes.

Half time. Feels winnable. Don't say that, don't say that...

And it felt more and more winnable as the second half wore on. Possibly the best half of football the Tigers have put in on their travels this season as far as attacking intent was concerned. But the goal that game and season so urgently needed was hard to come by.

Boateng volleyed wide from a half cleared Bullard corner. Cairney weaved through three challenges before sending the shot into the ashen sky. It seemed like it could improve further with the right alteration, and mercifully an American striker was called from the warm-up area. That Altidore replaced Vennegoor of Hesselink was a little disappointing, although his all-action style both aerially and on the terrain took him a step further than the unflinching but one-stepped Dutchman, and his impact was soon felt.

Altidore won a throw that Ibrahima Sonko chucked in long and Birmingham defended stoutly, even nearly scoring from the counter attack. They got a corner, from which City returned the favour, with Cairney sending Altidore on a run that reached the byline before a rather soft free kick was awarded to the home side as Roger Johnson fell to the turf.

Bullard and Altidore then combined nicely on another counter before Bullard tried a toe-poke from nowhere that Hart managed to cling on to, despite not expecting the shot to happen just at that point. Cairney and Altidore then switched passes delightfully to let Cairney make room where there had been none and swerve a left footer a little too far wide, earning elongated applause nonetheless.

In the three added minutes, Fagan lashed a volley into the side netting after Bullard's cross, aimed for Altidore, was cleared to him. It represented the final chance in a game that entertained without really offering more than mild hope that the Tigers can climb out of this. But it was still hope from a position of there being none.

The upshot is that two successful home games in the next seven days should, hopefully, take us to Wigan on May Day, thanks to ESPN's desire to chase ambulances, with the chance of climbing out of the bottom three before the last game. At the very best, we can hope to have a chance of staying up come the Liverpool match. We can ask for a lot more but we will only get it if there is panic and severe colitis among the players within two, and more, teams around us. Not to mention a couple of half-arsed displays at the KC from Aston Villa and Sunderland.

It's not in our hands. It may not be again over the next three weeks. But today did at least suggest that there is some confidence still in the squad, if not Myhill's right boot. But, with fresh breath, a lack of spinach on our collective teeth and a reasonably strong deodorant, we may just be able to prevent locked braces and a growly stomach, and manage to prolong a Premier League lifetime and still breathe.

HULL CITY (4-5-1): Duke; McShane, Sonko, Mouyokolo, Dawson; Fagan, Bullard, Boateng, Cairney, Kilbane; Vennegoor of Hesselink.  Subs: Altidore (for Vennegoor of Hesselink, 76), Geovanni, Marney, Barmby, Olofinjana, Cooper, Myhill.

Goals: None

Booked: None

Sent Off: None

BIRMINGHAM CITY: Hart, Ridgewell, Carr, Dann, Gardner, Johnson, Bowyer, Fahey, Ferguson, Jerome, McFadden.  Subs: Phillips (for McFadden, 60), Larsson (for Fahey, 63), Benitez, Madera, Vignal, Parnaby, Taylor.

Goals: None

Booked: None

Sent Off: None

REFEREE:    M Clattenburg

ATTENDANCE: 26,669