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It’s
doubtful that City’s players have reacted more to a player’s
reputation than they did when Darren Huckerby wandered into the
KC with his boots slung over his shoulder.
Huckerby, a player who has achieved much
yet could have achieved much more, waltzed on to the park, took
City’s defence to the cleaners and waltzed off again. And yet
most of the problem was in City’s own heads.
What a disappointing display; some called
it unprofessional, others called it out-and-out poor. It’s hard
to pigeonhole it, as certainly it didn’t prompt torn-up season
tickets (a pointless gesture with only two home games left
anyway) or bodies filing for the exits after Norwich scored the
second. It was certainly complacent, exactly what Phil Brown had
warned against in the local media for the preceding days, and a
huge chance missed to gently open our passage to safety a little
more. And now we’re in a bit of schtuck again.
And it’s not as if Norwich were any good.
Their watertreading position in the table looks about right.
What they are, however, is effective and ruthless. In Huckerby,
and the ageless Dion Dublin, they have two match-winners whose
stature alone at this level can make defenders who respect
reputation just wither before them. Huckerby tore each of our
four defenders to bits at one point or another during the game.
Dublin didn’t miss a header all match, even though he was pulled
up for aerial fouls on at least half a dozen occasions.
Norwich are also very cynical. QPR still
take the prize for this, and anyone who remembers the
anti-football antics of Iain Dowie’s Crystal Palace last season
will also screw their nose up at this news, but another team of
tradition and decency has taken on this saddening, maddening
tactic of nicking and wasting little bits of minutes even before
the half time whistle has shrilled in anger. Norwich are, on
individuals at least, considerably more talented than the
disgraceful QPR, and don’t need to resort to this. They
certainly don’t when up against a team like the one City decided
to be.
Mr Brown, also riding on sub-editorial
bluster about his wish to secure safety and the manager’s job
for next season, left it unchanged after Southend, not
surprisingly. The teamsheet read Myhill; Ricketts, Turner,
Delaney, Dawson; Parlour, Peltier, Ashbee; Forster, Windass,
Elliott. Barmby made it to the bench after his calf issues.
City had the early possession and passed
smartly but nothing was created, and once Norwich, pristinely
dressed in all white, began to get some frequent studs on
leather it was obvious who the better side was going to be.
There was a hush of anticipation when Huckerby got his first
pass in space down the City right, in front of the East Stand,
and he duly made a mug of Delaney before Ricketts fairly but
vigorously deprived him of possession.
Delaney. What an odd old game he had. I
heard lots of criticism of him afterwards, but I actually walked
out thinking he was the best in defence we had out there. He
didn’t win a thing against Dublin, although Dublin was often
resorting to illegal tactics which the ref spotted, but
positionally he was sound, he eventually tackled Huckerby a
couple of times and he got one goal-line clearance away of the
type which photographers dream of snapping for their annual
awards ceremonies. His distribution was down, but Delaney isn’t
a distributor, he’s a defender. Make up your own mind, but I
thought he was ok. Not fantastic, but ok. Certainly anything he
did wrong was forgivable.
Right, anyway. Dawson swings in a corner
which ex-Liverpool stiff Warner drops, and Delaney’s shot is
blocked on the line. Huckerby flies down to the other end, does
Turner over and crosses for Dublin to nod back to Etuhu, but
Turner recovers to block in style. Safri curls in a free kick
which slaphead-in-denial defender Doherty fails to glance,
though his run distracts Myhill who fumbles and flaps before
finally getting a grasp of the leather.
End to end, but not especially exciting.
Little is happening for City’s midfield, although Ashbee’s
determination and refreshingly accurate timing in the tackle is
proving a boon. Next to him Parlour is outnumbered and often
bypassed, while ahead of him both Elliott and Forster are
pedestrians. City’s primary attacking tactic involves Ricketts
or Dawson swinging in high stuff in the hope of at least forcing
a corner, while Windass, dear Deano, regularly takes time out
from chesting down clearances to berate the ref for
half-and-half decisions and have a pop at anyone wearing white.
Norwich force a corner, which is taken
short to Lappin. He belts one low and awkward to Myhill’s near
post but our custodian gets down with admirable speed and paws
it out. It’s a fine save and, as City had been slack in noticing
the short kick, a big let-off. Up the other end we go, and
Peltier does superbly to win back a stray pass and feed Ashbee.
Implausibly, the skipper lets loose a fierce, fizzing left foot
shot which stays close to the ground, beats Warner all ends up
and hits the inside of the post, bouncing across goal with just
a yard to spare. The frustration at the absence of fortune was
tempered with sheer disbelief at the quality of the strike. It’s
as if we’d rather Ashbee just sliced the ball into the crowd or
chose to play his usual safe ‘n’ square pass rather than up our
expectations like that, only to let us down at the death. Great
effort though.
Huckerby pops between Ricketts and Turner
to swat a vicious low drive at Myhill’s near post and the keeper
holds, and holds well. Then Lappin is permitted a
straightforward but long run in possession with City
inexplicably backing off and the Tiger Nation baying and
growling more than normal, but ultimately a good piece of
destructive positioning from Dawson is enough to put the
talented Croft out of his stride, and he flicks the chance over.
Norwich force another corner shortly
afterwards, and take the lead. How or why I’m still not sure.
Safri curled in a wicked inswinger – the kind which Marney can’t
do but thinks he can – and the ball went in via a combination of
Myhill’s gloves and Huckerby’s head. Many called for a foul by
Huckerby, who was credited with the goal; I didn’t have an angle
of vision to be sure of the challenge’s lawfulness or otherwise,
but I thought the ball had gone in directly. Either way, the
goal was given and the Canaries were ahead, while Myhill picked
up an inevitable yellow for running after the ref all the way to
the halfway line in vain protest at the alleged infringement.
Norwich immediately reset the gearbox to
reverse. They’re not forced to defend, but they force themselves
to keep the ball, be cautious, slow it down and hold it until
the break. This they do effectively, although a player like
Huckerby is clearly not hooked on the idea of playing in such a
way, and soon he is racing – at full throttle, with Dawson not
having a hope in hell of catching him – on to a Dublin flick,
shooting beyond Myhill and finding the net for the second goal
…or at least he was until he slightly underhit his finish,
allowing Delaney to get back and make that awesome clearance off
the line.
Half time. Not great, but Norwich are
clearly there to be shackled and City will have to do what they
did with QPR when faced with a side prepared to filibuster their
way to a one goal win - attack like hell.
We didn’t.
Only once chance was created – a
long-range tee-up and volley by the invisible Elliott which
Warner tipped away – before Mr Brown realised fresh blood was
needed. Elliott, whose ineffectual display was hampered further
by a whack on the shin, sauntered off to be replaced, to a
rousing cheer, by Barmby.
And he did nothing. Barmby isn’t an
impact sub, not any more. He needs to start. And at Wolves, he
surely will.
If the first goal was dubious, then the
pathway to Norwich’s second was hardly paved with gold either.
Doherty seemed to foul Windass as he regained possession just
inside his own half and fed Etuhu. His ball wide to Huckerby had
more than a whiff of offside about it, but even then City could
have tightened up on the irritatingly good Norwich creator, who
cut in from the flank and delivered a divine ball on to Etuhu’s
following-up forehead for 2-0. No marking, no covering, no
challenges – but also no help from the officials. Not seen it on
telly yet, but even if Doherty’s nudge was fair game, the
offside decision seemed clearer.
Mr Brown withdrew the tired and underfed
Forster, who was booed off by the visiting supporters as they
recalled his connections with Ipswich. On came Vaz Te, who
threatens to become one of City’s most enigmatic players ever.
The evidence is there – the lolloping, half-arsed look as he
runs, the wish to fancy-dan his way round defenders even in a
2-0 deficit, the ridiculous sock structure and patterning (his
boots must be too big for him – he had white socks over his
ankles and sticking out of his Tiger stockings too) and, most
tellingly, the inability thus far to convert any chance put his
direction. He’ll either be magnificent or immensely frustrating.
Can we cope with an immensely frustrating player at this
clenching time of the season? Maybe it’s time he started a match
too.
Vaz Te instantly set off down the right,
made a pilchard of the defender who’d trotted across, then
instead of providing for an unmarked Barmby, opted to shoot,
with Warner dealing comfortably with the effort. It’s worth
guessing that he has now learned the word “greedy”, if he hadn’t
already.
City are somehow inspired though. A
corner is headed out to Peltier, who gets hold of the volley
with perfection. The ball smacks an unwitting Windass on the
earlobe, hits the post and bounces away. Unfortunate again, but
even after two strikes of the post, City still don’t look like
they deserve much.
However, City also don’t deserve to go
3-0 down, and they should have done as Huckerby is allowed to
scamper clear of anyone in opposition. He jogs past Myhill but a
divot caused by those wonderful rugby league people prompts a
hilarious mishit via his ankle over the bar. For a split-second
I was grateful that the other game was played on our pitch. By
the time a ball had been retrieved for the goal kick, I was
again no longer so.
City force three corners; the third of
which Turner meets with a header that drops wide. Peltier is
withdrawn, Marney is applauded on more warmly by the Norwich
fans (where he was useful on loan last season) than by the Tiger
Nation, who are merely awaiting the inevitable first corner
which doesn’t clear the first defender (although to be fair,
Parlour had already been doing those all afternoon in easily his
most anonymous display in a City kit). Marney, to his credit,
looked quite useful in his few minutes of action, and wasn’t
fussed by a staggeringly stupid and unnecessary tackle by Hughes
which got the Norwich man a deserved booking.
City survive another scare in front of
goal when Huckerby is flagged offside as he stylishly thumps
home a narrow-angled rebound after Lappin’s shot is deflected
his way. Then, at the other end, City get a free kick and
Windass does Warner like a kipper with a sweetly curled shot but
the post again bites the Tiger backside. Three times now.
Dawson has a go at the next one on 88
minutes and curls it in magnificently with Warner stranded. A
goal back, four minutes to be added, and suddenly there’s a
twinge of hope. Warner has a set-to with Barmby over the return
of the ball and gets a booking, and eventually the game restarts
and the City fans are awake. Dawson has another go from an
identical position shortly afterwards which is deflected over
via the wall.
From the outswinging corner, a Norwich
type stumbles as he dives to head clear and seems to brush the
ball with his hand as he hits the deck. No penalty, lots of
howls. The ball reaches Turner who shoots goalwards and hits an
arm. No penalty, louder howls. The first one would have been
harsh on Norwich, the second was far harsher on City. 2-2 would
have been a steal, but instead the whistle sounded for a Norwich
win and a big opportunity for the Tigers had been squandered.
It’s bloody hard work supporting this
Hull City team, y’know. It’s inconceivable that we can splat
Cardiff, Birmingham and Preston at home, react to tense
relegation battles with Luton and Southend with dominant
victories, and then perform like this against a side who won’t
go up or down. And with seasoned individuals like Parlour,
Windass, Barmby and Ashbee knocking about, there would have been
plenty of voices dissenting against complacency as City trotted
round the training ground through the week.
But complacent is precisely what City
were. Norwich weren’t smash and grab, but they are very ordinary
beyond the two obviously outstanding individuals in Dublin and
Huckerby, on whom they are clearly reliant for a safe and
progressive season. Of course Huckerby is absolutely terrific,
but if he were that good, he wouldn’t be in the Championship
now. He also wouldn’t have been ignored by Newcastle, nor sold
downwards from Coventry and Leeds. He’s a hot ‘n’ cold player
who defenders can deal with, providing they aren’t wary of his
ability before the game even begins. If that’s so, the battle is
won and so is the game. City reacted poorly to Huckerby, and
Norwich won the match.
The midfield was bypassed – Parlour was
surprisingly wasteful and Peltier just left behind. Ashbee
played well, but proper timing of tackles and endless stamina
merely limits damage rather than raises hope. City need the
creative forces to be up for games like this, and Parlour
especially looked like he’d not yet stretched his legs properly
after getting off the train from King’s Cross.
Forster needs a break, and Elliott
certainly does. One hopes Mr Brown will throw Barmby and Vaz Te
into the starting XI at Molineux, just to liven it up a bit. The
talent is there – although the end product with Vaz Te is a
source of serious doubt – and provided they can combine their
own skills with a touch of Forster’s endeavour then maybe
they’ll be the little bit of refreshment City’s attack needs.
And go on, if he’s about and eager Mr Brown, put Bridges on the
bench, just in case. Two games in three days means the squad
needs to be used to its max.
This report is being written and uploaded
prior to the matches involving Barnsley, Leeds, Luton, QPR and
Burnley, and irrespective of how their games pan out, we mustn’t
lose sight of our target – win the two home games and see what
we can prise from our travels. 50 points might be enough if
Leeds and Luton don’t better our results, but at the moment it
needs to be about rediscovering City’s unrepentant attitude to
the opposition and taking it to an overachieving Wolves. A win
there will even make the callous, criminal overpricing of
tickets at Molineux worth it. (MR) |
