Hull City 1– 1 Leicester City
Fagan (51) McCarthy (65)

Att: 20,192

A point at home is not usually the cause of extravagant celebration, and the applause at the end of the game was, I think, appreciative of a good deal of effort and skill but tinged with understandable disappointment that we hadn't got the win. But I felt more encouraged by this than any of the previous games this season; having seen all bar the Plymouth win (these days I prefer to leave long journeys to eager, thrusting youngsters such as Steve Weatherill), this was the first time that we really set about an established team at this level. We looked intimidated by QPR and Wolves, Sheff Wed, Brighton and the Plims are no-ones tip to spill a lot of ale in this division, but Leicester have some good players and a bit of cash and the recent memory of being a Premiership outfit. In short they fancy themselves a bit and to see us cuffing them around like it was Kidderminster 2 years ago was pleasing in the extreme. Giving us an exciting afternoon in characteristic Hull sun were:

Hull City: Myhill, France, Coles, Delaney, Dawson, Price, Ashbee, Welsh, Elliott, Barmby, Fagan (Subs: Leite, Wiseman, Woodhouse, Green, Burgess)

Leicester: Douglas, Stearman, McCarthy, Johansson, Maybury, Sylla, Williams, Gudjonsson, Wilcox, Connolly, de Vries (Subs: Kisnorbo, Henderson, Hammond, Hamill, Dublin)

Ref: M Clattenburg (Co Durham).

We were extremely mobile with Dawson consistently supporting Elliott who consistently cut in from the left, Price roaming everywhere up front, Nicky knitting it all together with his best flicks-and-short-passes game and Fagan running from deep so that the term 'formation' seems rather a stilted one for such an impressively fluid approach. Incidentally, 'impressively fluid' is what you call it when it works. Had it not done, I would have called it disjointed and railed against Price's inability to hold his position, but that is because I am a fan and therefore entitled.

But it was certainly too much for the visitors early on as, in defiance of the law, we seriously hunted some fox. Indeed, after an early Lest flurry which we repelled at the cost of a corner, we attacked in short sharp bursts which gave the game the feel of the opening credits of 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' as attack followed attack so rapidly they virtually merged together. To the background of Nerf Herder's theme music we saw Fagan storm forward, turn it back to Barmby, who squared to Elliott who crossed for Price to head against the bar before Fagan again panicked them with a run that was crudely ended by McCarthy for a freekick that Elliott headed against the underside of the bar, after which an incisive Dawson run was ended at the expense of a corner which fell to Fagan who shot against the post, the same player then pressuring the visiting defence into conceding a corner which gave a free header to Elliott who again hit the top of the bar. Close, but no actual slayage, the stake infuriatingly just missing the heart each time although the crosses were of excellent quality.

Those were only the more obvious chances. Barmby had a fine shot well-saved after Price had delivered him an excellent ball and Welsh shot miles over after more good pressing work from Fagan and then got on the end of an Ashbee - Elliott - Barmby combination to prove his versatility by this time shooting miles wide. We have been told that he could be a second Steven Gerrard, although on this outing a seventeenth or eighteenth might be more realistic. A second Steve Melton looks to be within his compass though. Unfair? Of course. Plenty of time to settle and do good yet, but yesterday he was off the pace and wavelength of his team mates.

As can happen, after so much domination you can be caught and we nearly were just before the interval as de Vries got free and headed powerfully to bring an excellent save from Bo. From the resulting corner Myhill then did even better getting down low to turn away de Vries well-struck volley. Custodian of the leather - a compliment I do not give lightly. That pretty much wrapped up the first half and the boys left to well-merited applause.

We started the second half in much the same fashion, with the important difference that we actually scored from one of our attacks. A corner found Price at the near post but moving out from the goal and he did very well to get a flicked header to the back post where Fagan volleyed home sumptuously. 1-0 and no-one deserved it more than the Battling Brummie. 10 minutes later, we had another gilt-edged opportunity to score and perhaps bury them. Serial idiot referee Mark Clattenberk rushed to break up a situation deep in our half where a number of players were scrapping for the ball. Having blown up, the silly whistler then thought about it and realised that no actual foul had been committed, so we actually got a proper old-fashioned drop ball. As our nominated man was Fagan, the wily Fox opposite him wisely got out of the way of the swinging boot with the result that the hoofed leather transmogrified into a fine through ball for Price, out pacing the defence to be one on one with the keeper. He wasn't able to get the necessary height on the shot and Douglas, who had done very well to charge out of the area and close off the angle of elevation did even better to make the save with his legs.

Infuriatingly, almost immediately it then turned sour. Prattenberg then found a reason for a free kick midway in our half, at which we proceeded to do something I've not really seen us do this season: we elected to defend poorly. The ball was hit over deep to our left beyond Dawson who sensibly, rather than dive in, stood off his man to allow us to get our zone defence organised. All should have been well as the ball was turned back to Stearman but for some reason no one had picked him up so he had an age to pick out a target in the area. We suddenly realised the danger and charged towards him playground style, cleverly abandoning marking duties behind us. Stearman floated over his cross to the three Lesters now unattended and it was left to McCarthy to nod it past Myhill. 1-1 and a really irritating passage of play.

We didn't really do that well for the remainder of the game, starting with the manager who unaccountably withdrew Barmby and Fagan for Burgess and Woodhouse. This might have made sense if we were still a goal ahead, but as we now needed another, removing much of our attacking threat was what might politely be called puzzling. At this point the visiting fans remembered that they didn't like our manager and imaginatively called him a w**ker (a w**ker). Terrace banter, eh? Surprisingly, thousands of people from Hull immediately failed to leave the stadium in tears stopping only to hit someone from the east midlands before sobbing out their stories to journalists. Odd, really. Anyway, Elliott went up front with Ben where he proceeded to remind us that his pace and prodigious ability in the air which are so valuable out wide are immediately nullified when he is asked to do it with a central defender's boot up his arse. Leicester might have won it. They pressured, Myhill failed to collect a cross and Coles essayed a fine header to clear off the line. Encouraged, they brought on Dublin to bounce us around and he got in a flick that produced a fierce shot that Bo parried magnificently. By this time we were fairly obviously hanging on, although we might have nicked it in injury time, as Battenberg allowed us to tick the box marked 'gutless' as well as those marked 'incompetent' and 'has a name that is easy to poke fun at' by refusing to give a penalty for a handball that was obvious 60 yards away but apparently invisible at 6.

A good game, and, I think, a fair result. Impressions were that the goal apart we defended well, France sparing us the Joseph embarrassment, and that with our flair players, Elliott, Barmby and Fagan getting going together for the first time, we can discomfit defences at this level. If we keep creating chances like that then the goals will come. Ashbee was excellent, his best performance yet in a series of good ones, another rebuttal to those who felt he couldn't do it in this division. And yes, my hand his held up here. Welsh, we'll see, Price was excellent; if he can keep going this he's a major asset. Don't put the mortgage on it happening though.

I think we can still do better but we did very well in another heartening display. I could get used to this.

Mark Gretton

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