A job well done. A win, a clean sheet, both strikers scoring and, as a bonus, a bunch of knucklescraping morons from Cardiff getting uppity for no discernible reason.

You can tell travelling Cardiff fans a mile off. They've spent years putting off the real supporter who wants to wear a scarf, travel somewhere for the game and then go home, mulling over the display in their head as the car or train heads back to Wales. What Cardiff are left with are these imbecilic nancies who turn nasty in the second half.

Not every Cardiff fan had fisticuffs on the priority list, of course. One or two stayed at the far end of the North Stand and kept his eyes on the game. But here we emphasise the words 'his'. How many women turned up? Or kids? Next to none. There was also barely a replica shirt or daft hat in blue and white on show. The Cardiff City fans who tried to batter down the human cordons provided by overworked stewards and fast-hopping police officers and head towards the East Stand have, over the years, developed a reputation which the decent folk of Ninian Park want to cast aside. And these are supposedly all 'members', going by the warning on the club website that only Membership Card holders should go to the KC. That membership number might just be reduced a bit now. They're not real fans, but they are for real.

Anyway, it was nice to annoy them, although we hope none of our stewards got lamped and the damage to the stadium was minimal. City's performance wasn't vintage but we don't want vintage City. We want hardworking, football-orientated, collectively responsible, gutsy and confident City. A City of optimism, especially at home. We got that, particularly in a second half which saw Cardiff's long-ball lullabying mopped up with some panache by the awesome Sam Collins and Leon Cort. Mark Lynch has always looked more comfortable when the stoic and concise Ryan France has been in front of him, instead of the wandering waster Stuart Green, while the return after injury of Andy Dawson was loudly applauded prior to the game, and more so at the end as fans sauntered through the exits talking about the ease with which our star left back slotted back in.

A word for Matt Duke, also. City were encouraging towards him, providing him with ample defensive cover to the extent that he didn't have anything to do in the opening half hour except slice a couple of clearances into the crowd. Once a shot from Cardiff finally emerged, Duke got across and double-wristed it away for a corner. His first save of the day worked and came as a relief to all in seats and on grass. After that, he tipped over a free kick from the influential but arrogant Jason Koumas (who ditched the soppy gloves at half time after someone pointed out it was the warmest Saturday in about six weeks) and otherwise kept his nerve - and his grip - when the steepling balls and cross shots came within his reach. Bo will be back for Sheffield Wednesday, but in Duke we can trust again when and if necessary.

A bitty and exceptionally drab first half was dominated by Cardiff's incessant long balls towards the petulant Michael Ricketts (that second half booking for kicking the ball towards Willerby in a superbly camp showbiz strop was fabulous) and the promising Cameron Jerome, who devalued all the column inches of tongues hanging out he has received by proceeding to miskick every half-chance he had into the stands.

City were quite negative, with one free kick down the flank midway inside Cardiff territory going from France to Lynch to Cort to Duke in a matter of five seconds, to deserved derisory hoots from the Tigers faithful. In the second half, however, City stepped it up.

Few were convinced by Billy Paynter's arrival, largely because his playing heritage mirrors pretty much the succession of strikers brought in by Peter Taylor who have failed to step up. But against Cardiff, a gem emerged from the shell. Paynter was fantastically tough, determined, strong and courageous, annoying the cautioned Darren Purse no end while a fired up Craig Fagan did his usual wing-wandering schtick with more effect than the rest of his forays down the flank put together. This combination put Cardiff's wind up, and just after their fans began to turn nasty, Purse studded right through Paynter's calves from behind, leaving the City forward bruised but free of the shackles, as a thick-skinned ref rightly issued the second yellow and the consequent red. Within two further minutes City were ahead.

Fagan kept closer control of the ball on the touchline than his past record suggested was possible, wrongfooted Chris Barker and delivered a thigh-high centre to Paynter's near post dash, and the burly ex-Port Vale man soled his shot under Neil Alexander and wheeled away in obvious delight while the Cardiff fans' raging incandescence rose another level.

City - being City - then decided to help Cardiff towards an equaliser, with our left side disappearing off for a picnic to let Rhys Weston put the overlaps together. Collins and Cort were, however, to the fore and Duke can be thankful for the barrier they supplied. Weston and Jerome's frustration led to them both berating ball boys for having the nerve not to do as they were told as quickly as they would like, and we hope they're made to apologise for monstering these teenage lads. And well done to the steward in the Cardiff end who - unwittingly, we're sure - wasted a few extra seconds by chucking a stray ball on to the pitch.

Damien Delaney, playing immaculately in the lynchpin midfield role which he practised at Leicester and at all his loan clubs, hit one from distance which flew just wide, and Cort won a header from a corner which bounced and trundled adrift, ahead of any City instep hoping to get the deflection.

Taylor had chucked Stuart Elliott on for a knackered and quiet Nicky Barmby and it was his charmed pass which sealed the game with three minutes left. Cardiff's attack broke down on the edge of the area and Elliott collected a planted clearance on his flank; yet instead of heading for touchline and then corner flag, he glided a prizewinning ball past the ageful Neil Cox for Fagan to scamper on to, and a fine personal display from the fizzing City hitman was tinlidded by a splendidly cool finish past Alexander. Job done, unless you were a copper or steward. Their job had just got harder, as the Cardiff neanderthals tried ever more to work along the balconies and blanketed seats to confront goaders in the East Stand. Sticks and stones. And earlier it was all quite good natured - briefly - when City's chorus began the 'We all hate Leeds' chant and the Cardiff fans joined happily in. Long memories.

City's first win in six weeks (since we robbed Derby; but this was no robbery, we were ten times better and deserved all of it) and we're now three unbeaten. Up to 17th and maybe there is a light at the tunnel's end, especially as Sheffield Wednesday, Brighton, Crewe and Ipswich are all distinctly winnable in the four weeks ahead. The players had it for once; Cort and Collins were colossal; the full backs had discipline and high expectation of themselves; John Welsh and Delaney tackled like tanks and the two strikers, well, struck. And the keeper's okay. Maybe we'll be okay too.  (MR)