Precisely the kind of game which we feared. In fact, just add 'entertainment nil' to the scoreline and you've got the picture.

Two teams at the wrong end who knew prior to kick off that enough had been done to survive. And, barring the occasional burst of vitality from the odd player (and very occasional they were) we paid up to watch essentially 22 men halfway towards the travel agents.

Defences ruled, really. City's was only breached once, while it's tough to recall any passage of open play when Burnley's stiff-shouldered rearguard had any pressing issues to deal with. This was down to Jon Parkin again being off-colour (and, frankly, shattered) and Darryl Duffy again being off the pace and unable to show any signs of his quarter-of-a-million valuation in front of the home crowd.

Though the Duffy situation is concerning, it's worth bearing in mind that all the strikers this season have had fits 'n' starts when it comes to form, with the exception of Parkin. Duffy's problem is that he only seems to be able to make an impact a) away from home; and (lesserly) b) as a substitute. Put him in the starting XI at the KC and you wonder what the white-booted fuss is about.

Peter Taylor made two changes which were probably predictable after the drama and tension of Bramall Lane. Duffy got in with Craig Fagan hauled back to the bench, while there was a pleasing recall for the fit-again Ryan France to the right side of midfield, with Billy Paynter too keeping his training kit on. No place for Stuart Elliott, despite scoring one and making another against the Blades; proof again that Mr Taylor has a lot of time for Kevin Ellison as a left sided marauder. Boaz Myhill was shielded by Alton Thelwell, Leon Cort, Damien Delaney and Andy Dawson; France and Ellison lined up either side of Stuart Green and skipper Keith Andrews; Parkin and Duffy searched for the goals. Fruitlessly.

So, what can we actually tell you? Very little, in truth. It's possible that the few incidents which your author noted could be stretched out to form a report of similar length to the norm, but frankly the game wasn't good enough to warrant the effort. Proof that the activities of footballers really do influence those in different walks of life. The teams looked soulless, tired and devoid of any real desire; I found myself being entertained more by the Burnley substitutes than the Burnley XI (thanks to a genuinely superb impromptu display of keepie-up during the half time break) while the seagulls flapping under the East Stand lighting distracted me more than most of the City players could manage for much of the match.

Oh, go on then. Burnley - backed by a sizeable and feisty support (I love the way two-syllable teams become three for the purposes of song; "Burn-e-ley! Burn-e-ley!" etc) - created the first opportunity when on-loan striker Andy Gray hit a cross shot on the bounce which dipped a touch but still dropped wide. Then Thelwell was caught too far in from his touchline from a long crossfield pass and Graham Branch again thumped the chance away from Myhill's far post. Finishing quality was clearly at a premium from our visitors - it was the departed Ade Akinibiyi who got the winner when we inevitably lost at Turf Moor on telly - but at least they were creating. City weren't.

The first chance for the Tigers finally emerged midway through the half when France's typically dogged run on the flank forced a throw. Thelwell took it, received the ball back from France and swept in a scrummy, curling outswinger which evaded two Burnley apes at the back but the unlucky Ellison, stretching like hell, only managed to get the ball stuck under his studs and keeper Brian Jensen collected. Similarly, Dawson then whacked a high ball on to France's forehead and the brilliant cross-nod from the returning midfielder reached Green's late run, but again the ball became something of an adhesive and no real shot on goal was offered.

Green swung a corner on to France's volley which Jensen captured; Burnley then got away with a fortuitous clearance which allowed Branch to cross beyond Myhill and force a last-ditch clearance from the telescopic Cort; then to the other end again as Duffy managed to flick a free kick on to the left foot of Parkin, but the Beastly snapshot was again too close to Jensen's gloves. Burnley were then forced into an early substitution.

And so half time was called. Still with us? Good. Won't be long now.

France delivered a piercing high centre as a second ball after a set-piece was cleared, and the still-up Cort got his lethal bonce to it, but directed the chance too high. Burnley had a free kick nodded dangerously down by Gray but Alan Mahon, in a worrying amount of space, hacked it over. Then that one real chance, the one which should have won the hunched-up visitors a game which otherwise deserves to be struck from the record and shredded.

How City's defence didn't see Kyle Lafferty's channeled run is baffling, as he was the only man to aim for as he was slipped through and found himself bearing down on goal, slightly at an angle, with Myhill out quickly in the star-jump position. Lafferty sensed the glory but, in a capitulation befitting of such a rotten day for all, he panicked and steered the ball right into Myhill's body. Our heroic keeper got the usual "Myhill for England" chants but truthfully this became a very regulation save when really he shouldn't have a prayer. Lafferty has composure work ahead of him this summer.

Mr Taylor, sensing that everyone was fast asleep, threw on three City substitutes at once though one can't help but feel he missed a trick by not allowing Parkin a rest and giving Paynter a chance to remind us that he is a decent target man, instead of That Bloke Who Sometimes Plays On The Right Because We Haven't Got A Winger. However, Parkin stayed on and France withdrew, while Fagan and Elliott replaced the increasingly enigmatic Duffy and the ever-industrious Ellison, who again got the ovation he deserved.

The subs had little effect, and by now everyone was looking at their watches and prepared for home. Parkin had a left-footer saved at the near post, while Elliott challenged Jensen to a Fagan cross which momentarily forced the flawless keeper to drop the ball, but he managed to regather his bearings and the leather as Parkin steamed in.

All that was really left was for Burnley's own goal specialist Frank Sinclair to get involved in one of those needless one-sided debates with the more unforgiving element of the East Stand. It began a while earlier, prior to the substitutions, after he chastised a ball boy for - I think - not wiping the rain off the ball as he prepared to take a quick long throw. Naturally the City fans took the tracksuited adolescent's side (and good to see he wasn't upset by this old pro's tirade, but just laughed a lot), and Sinclair's chagrin was exacerbated further when he decided to respond to the City fans' catcalls by launching into a furious tackle which almost removed Ellison's legs clean from his body. Ellison was okay. Sinclair got a yellow card. And we got some entertainment, of sorts, at last. Gratifyingly, nobody decided to chuck a bottle at Sinclair either.

Burnley's fans had a late singing surge as the two minutes added on ticked laboriously by, and everyone interviewed after the game said it was a rotten spectacle. Mr Taylor admitted he would have been disappointed to have paid to see that; Green went further and proclaimed he'd have probably left early. Part-timer.

A positive? Thelwell. At last he is starting to look properly match fit, sharp, tenacious and convincing as a right back, and the faith is paying off - even though it's unjust in many ways to see young Scott Wiseman again on the bench, waiting in vain for another chance. And we're also four clean sheets in a row now at fortress KC, with nine points from 12. Oh, and we're mathematically safe. But let's put this to bed. Awful game, goalless draw, poor day all round. At least this report will be shoved down the page by that of the Derby game within 48 hours. We'd hope for nothing more than a complete blinder from Pride Park, though given that us, Derby and Burnley are pretty much identical in position and outlook, we shouldn't go holding our breath now. (MR)