Anyone hoping that City would pull out all the stops and give the Championship’s bottom club a right good hiding would be disappointed, but then again, do we have any right to be disappointed?

We won – tick the box. We kept a clean sheet – tick the box. And we’re eleven points clear of relegation – tick a big, big box.

Given that until last week’s stuttersome victory over Plymouth was our first at the Circle this year, a second successive win at home isn’t yet cause to start talking about Fortress KC.

But it’ll come in handy for Leeds in a fortnight.

City were their usual mixture of industrious and nervous, engaging and panicky. It’s rarely dull on an emotive front, even if the football’s sometimes a bit slipshod. Crewe were what we expected of them; positive and neat, but very lightweight and entirely lacking in any kind of killer instinct. They looked like a relegated team.

Peter Taylor again went against the grain with his selection; no surprises and cause to be pleased. Last week’s finishing team was the one which began – Mark Noble in the midfield ‘irritant’ role for John Welsh (who didn’t make the bench – unlike the last time he got dropped for a bit, he currently doesn’t deserve a place); and Craig Fagan in for the jumpy Darryl Duffy (who did make the bench though). Noble and Fagan were garbed in a jumper (yes, a jumper, black in colour, under a short-sleeved shirt) and gloves respectively. Pansies. Someone should have a word.

So the teamsheet read thus:- Bo Myhill protected by Scott Wiseman, Leon Cort, Damien Delaney and Alan Rogers; The Stuarts of Green and Elliott did the flanks with Noble alongside skipper Keith Andrews; in attack, Fagan looked vertically towards the mesmerising presence of Jon Parkin. With Duffy on the bench were Billy Paynter, Kevin Ellison, Alton Thelwell and Matt Duke. Among the charges in the Crewe line-up was former City loanee Jon Otsemobor, complete with scar on buttocks.

Wiseman, getting a rare two starts in a row, swung in the first cross early on which caused Ross Turnbull in the Crewe goal all sorts of hassle. The ball struck the angle of bar and post. Crewe showed plenty of willing, with peroxide attacker Steve Jones creating early impressions with his pace, fashioning a chance for himself which ended with a dipping volley just wide of a scrambling Myhill’s post.

City sat back (unheard of…) and allowed Crewe to get a feel of ball and lumpy pitch, and defender Chris McCready should have hit the target from six yards when a Kenny Lunt corner curled dangerously through everyone and landed on his toe. As a defender, his instinct was slow and he put it in the clouds. Wiseman, possibly due to the effects of snowblindness caused by Jones’ hair, was given a bit of a runaround but, in a turn of events largely typical of positive teams stranded at the bottom, Crewe went behind while dominating the play…

Sorry, I’ve gone off message. I’ll rephrase it… City went ahead against the run of play.

It was a great goal. Stuart Elliott’s only worthwhile contribution of what was a truly dismal personal performance from the oft-heroic Ulsterman was a scrumptious chipped cross from just inside the Crewe area which Fagan met with his forehead. McCready blocked the chance on reflex alone and therefore had no influence on where the ball ended up – and that was on the swiping boot of Green, whose half volley arrowed with no little grace past Turnbull and into the top corner.

Green was ace; Elliott was rotten. It’s rare that this happens, although Elliott has been rubbish more times than Green has been good this season. These two heroes of two memorable promotion campaigns have contrasting fortunes right now, with Green’s enigmatic and soft season finally starting to keep pace and take shape in the last two months. Will he stay? Quite possibly now, though he ain’t a winger and we need Jason Price’s replacement to be as authentic as the afro man himself. Or to tell Ryan France that he will never have to worry about being a right back again.

Elliott looks completely shattered. Of course, the attention on his indifferent form is entirely out of context for this division because we’ve seen him rip two seasons’ worth of defences apart of late and therefore the comedown, when it happens, is magnified many times over. But he does look out of sorts. Mr Taylor perhaps has an inkling of this, with the presence of a healthy-again Ellison on the bench acting as a decent plan B. Indeed, the swap was made little more than an hour into the game and Elliott’s shoulders were visibly slumped as he stepped towards the dugout, aware that it isn’t going his way. Anyone who saw him at Preston would think twice about labelling this display his worst of the season; but at Preston nobody was that good in the outfield.

What’s this – ten or more paragraphs in, and no mention of Parkin? Well, the Beast was great to observe again, although his superhuman status is starting to thin just slightly as he isn’t scoring goals. Yet he was typically brash and brazen, mercilessly bullying and hustling any defender who came near him. His first real chance came midway through the first half when Green’s delightful through ball gave him room to burrow some geezer in red out of the way and hit a bouncing shot straight at Turnbull.

A corner was then forced and half-cleared, and Cort’s looping header from the second ball was frantically whacked off the line. Fagan then thumped a half-chance over the bar from Delaney’s sweet pass, before the Irish centre back got lucky when he clearly let a bouncing ball touch his knuckles in the area and the referee, wrongly but fortunately, waved away the justified Crewe penalty appeals. An incorrect decision which gave the ref some publicity – previously his performance had been so flawless that the only thing that had been noticed was how too tight his green shirt was (with thanks to the blonde woman sitting in front of me for pointing it out). So, 1-0 at the break and relatively comfortable.

I don’t buy match programmes, so at the break I always look for something to entertain me. At times this has included surveying the flags brought by the away fans. Well, I’m sorry to say this about such an “admirable” (those 4-4-2 Awards the other week) club, but the fans have no wit. Born In Crewe, Live In Crewe, Die In Crewe. Really? Crewe is a nice town – and Gresty Road is genuinely a good ground, we do like the chippy opposite the main entrance – but to stay in Crewe all your life isn’t an ambition. Staying in Hull all your life isn’t either; in fact staying in Hull at any point of your life at all isn’t – ask Darryl Duffy...

In the second half, Rogers hurled a long throw square along the edge of the area and Parkin used his upper body strength to turn and fire, only to take a nasty slice instead and send the ball soaring somewhere towards Hornsea. Wiseman then embarked upon a rare foray into the Crewe half, cut in to his left foot and delivered a peach of a ball which, sadly, Elliott and Fagan both went for without warning the other. Result – collision, repercussions, no connection with the ball, a waste. This was Elliott’s last alleged contribution before the board went up, and as an aside, it’s a real joy to hear the Circle welcoming Ellison properly to the team after pocketed vitriol all season. That’s how you support a team and a player. It was more unusual, frankly, to see Ellison playing on the left for once.

Noble, whose running was rarely rewarded by any great midfield influence (indeed, the surveying Keith Andrews barely got a touch in the second half, even though we’re supposed to play everything through him…), was then hauled off for Paynter, who despite being less of a winger than Green, displaced the reborn blonde on the flank, leaving Green with the opportunity to cut inside to his favoured position. Paynter went on one staggering run down the flank which kept possession and frustrated Crewe (and their fans – “Vale reject” indeed) but otherwise struggled to get involved from such an isolated position. Green, however, flourished, orchestrating the game with clever passes, clear instructions as to where he wanted others to put the ball and – this is Green, don’t forget – tackling with real venom and vehemence. Andrews just watched.

Parkin again got into a shooting position from another Rogers chuck but this time was a lot closer and should have scored. Far be it from me to criticise the Beast – given the effect he’s had since signing, he’d be a shoo-in for Player of the Season were it not for Myhill’s superlative form in the darker months – but this was a poor lookout for him. He was six yards out with a bouncing ball and Turnbull about to soil himself with fright. The ball hit the bar and boing boing, it was back out. It should have bust the net.

By now Duffy was on for Fagan, and the woeful white boots alongside the heavy tape-strapping over his socks made him look like he was running about in a pair of hospital sandals. He does look out of sorts. Maybe he’s worried after that interview in the Record – he shouldn’t be; I would never live in Hull either – but it’s clear he’s not quite with us in full body yet. We aren’t playing for strikers off the defender’s back so he isn’t helped there, whether he starts or subs, and he isn’t quite as quick as Fagan to really skin defenders at full throttle. He’s an artist-like finisher, relying on real service and making chances off his own bat. He’ll get there. It’d bring out the best in Green and Andrews if Duffy and Fagan started together, but who’s going to tell the Beast he’s dropped? Mr Taylor isn’t and nor should he.

Three minutes of injury time consisted of one Crewe corner and one almighty panic in the six yard box which City eventually clumped away. Utter elation at the final whistle, even though we made our usual dog’s breakfast of finishing an unworthy team off. With Burnley, Derby and – most importantly – Millwall all losing, we have climbed the table and put 11 points between us and the drop. The charge of the cattlegrids to Ipswich next week should be a cracking day out now, despite what is the most never-endingly backwatered drive in English football. Then it’s a midday Leeds at the Circle. Developing a thirst already... beer and breakfast, anyone?

Although Elliott was a disaster and Andrews an anonymity, City again could take many individual positives from this win, aside from the effects it had on position, points and morale. Green, wow. He was everything we urge him to be – creative, energetic, determined, optimistic, and his goal had much going for it in both quality and meaning. Delaney and Cort were solid and communicative; Wiseman recovered well after a busy afternoon threatened to do him for nerves; Parkin’s finishing was his only minus on another afternoon of complete inspiration.

It’s a results business, so whingeing should be strictly reserved for the sudden lack of Sky TV in the surrounding pre-match pubs. After all, on the pitch there’s not that much for anyone other than the unduly churlish to complain about, and what problems there are seem eminently solvable. Oh, and Nicky Barmby’s due back next week. How he and the Beast react to each other is something we can all anticipate and savour. (MR)