Let's do a spot of daydreaming together. Here goes...

City get their win at Cardiff, but Leeds do likewise with Ipswich, as Alan Lee's goal is chalked off or, worse still, somebody bundles the ball netwards for a Leeds win during that one mental minute of added time after a 30 minute hoodlum break.

We get to our final home game with Plymouth and City need all three points to absolutely guarantee safety in the Championship.

Well, irrespective of the change in the players' mindset for the visit of Ian Holloway's side, we wouldn't have got them. And we'd have been down.

Stop daydreaming now.

Let's be clear on this - City weren't and aren't good enough for this division. We only stayed up not because we were any good, but because three other teams were even worse. Luton's sorry capitulation, fire sale and foot-in-mouth outbreaks, Leeds' loathsome and repugnant arrogance, and Southend's general ill-preparation and ineptitude, saved us.

None of the players did. Not really. If any of those teams had reacted to a new gaffer or a decent run of form, we'd have been down.

Plymouth's visit was set on lush grass at the KC, but the beach was clearly in the minds of City's side. Holloway's men were on a run of four consecutive wins prior to their trip and were primed for another. They weren't on their holidays. A good, consistent and well-drilled team, helmed by their loopy but much underrated manager, they walked all over us.

And would have done even if Phil Brown had picked a team which needed to make sure. We can be but relieved and feel suitably chastened for being so poor so much and yet somehow getting through. No more seasons like this, please - as Adrian Chiles frequently says whenever West Brom make the Premiership: "It's not the despair, I can handle the despair - it's just the hope I can't handle."

I despaired of City yesterday. Thank God we didn't need to hope for anything. An apathetic, silent and yet plentiful 20,000+ crowd saw Mr Brown pick the following team: Myhill; Doyle, Turner, Delaney, Dawson; Parlour, Ashbee, Marney; Forster, Windass, McPhee.

Doyle finally proved he wasn't actually an existential figment of our imaginations, nor that he was a fleshless bloke with an 'H' on his forehead, by making his first team debut merely 14 years after Mr Brown bought him. Ricketts stepped aside altogether, while Peltier dropped to the bench to allow Marney a deserved starting place following heroic sub turns at the Potteries and Wales.

Right, what's to tell? It was a training game for the opening 20 minutes. Lots of passing, next to no forward movement, tackling of any force or aggression at an absolute premium. "Should have stayed in the pub" was an expression widely muttered from seat to seat. That said, it was obvious City were the team who weren't arsed, as Plymouth kept the ball and, what penetration there was, came via them.

Hungarian midfielder Halmosi thumped a dipping left foot volley from a bouncing ball just over the bar, then City made an inroad - at last, hazah! - thanks to Forster's determination to reach the byline which got him sliced down at the corner flag. Marney swept it in, managed to clear the first defender for the first time since he was a Tottenham under 15s player, and Ashbee climbed highest and headed over.

Forster then tried a trick which prompted an instinctive Argyle handball. Dawson's name was chanted as the wall formed and expectations grew, but the shot was beaten out by Larrieu.

So, two set pieces were all City had been able to muster in the opening half hour and there was a sense of inevitability about the visitors' capacity to up their game when they felt like it. This they did with a marvellous seven-pass piece of free-flowing football from back to front which ultimately prompted Delaney to foul Norris, only for Myhill to save the penalty with his legs as Ebanks-Blake fired it too low and straight.

A let off? Nah. The inevitability remained. City's regulation lack of width, Parlour's regulation lack of puff and McPhee's regulation lack of attitude, all contributed to a solidly dominant Plymouth performance for the rest of the half. That said, it was a tad cruel to conceded seconds before the half time whistle, when Norris made an injury time gallop down the right and sent a high cross which had Myhill scrambling and gave Halmosi room to loop the header back over the keeper and into the net.

0-1 at the break. Should have stayed in the pub.

Second half, little improvement. Windass, looking like a bloke who'd done his bit and was ready for a week in Clacton with the kids, flicked on an early Myhill punt and Forster got room for a stretching shot which he cut well wide. Peltier then comes on for Parlour, who we won't see again in a City shirt.

Another City attack, surrounding more stretches of midfield nothingness and Plymouth taking a breather. Doyle, looking good in peculiar circumstances (but looking good nonetheless), delivers a divine long ball for Forster's willing legs to chase. The pull back for Marney is perfect, the block from Sawyer on the goalbound shot exceptional.

McPhee then puts the ball in despite knowing he was offisde a good five seconds earlier and still that elusive first goal from this alleged striker won't come. We might have to wait until August now, as immediately he was hauled off for Elliott and, frankly, I can't see why McPhee should still be with us next season. He can run and he can control, but he can't get into dangerous positions, he loses his composure too easily, his bad displays are very bad displays, and his finishing is very poor.

Elliott immediately volleys a Windass cross on the break very high and very wide and has a grin to himself as he wheels back into position. Grinning was rare in most circumstances on the pitch, especially when Argyle sauntered forward - because they felt like it and knew they could - and Halmosi crossed from the left for Ebanks-Blake to direct a vigorous volley beyond Myhill for 0-2.

Instantly, City hit back. Dawson centres from the left, Windass heads down for Forster, whose shot is well parried by Larrieu for Elliott to sweep home with his right foot, a rarity in itself. A quick, half-bothered somersault later, and we're back on again.

Except we're not. Argyle have control and City aren't going to score again this season.Halmosi nearly does with a shot which strikes the post, but neither team seems bothered by the fuss any more. The crowd decide that a Mexican wave might make the 20-odd quid worth it, but even the 6,000 who watched the awful Carling Cup tie against Hartlepool responded better to the Mexican wave than this group of attendees. And quite right - Mexican waves are the devil's work.

Featherstone gets a late run out for Marney but only Delaney has a go at goal during this last 20 minutes, belting a low volley at the keeper from a long throw. Larrieu holds, the whistle goes, the season ends.

As all of the players partook in the slowest lap of honour ever (largely because John Welsh was on crutches and Jon Parkin wasn't) it became distinctly possible that a lot of them won't be back. Mr Brown - whom the chairman seems to have unofficially appointed to the job longer term, despite many reservations about just how good or not he is - says he has a busy summer ahead, and quite right too. The midfield needs a massive overhaul. We need real wide men, some authentic centre back cover and at least two new strikers - preferably ones who know where the net is. Bridges, Wiseman, Parkin, Parlour and Duffy will certainly be released, while it's feasible to see offers being accepted for hardier pros but ultimately replaceable players like Marney, Forster, Coles, Collins, maybe France and hopefully McPhee.

I suspect Elliott will stay, while I'm guessing that the shoo-ins are the full backs (homesickness rumours about Ricketts notwithstanding), Delaney and Turner, Livermore and Welsh, Barmby and Myhill. Windass needs to sign full time and, a minority suggestion, but I'd quite like us to test Liverpool's belief in Peltier by making an offer there too. He's had some stinkers (including his sub appearance against Plymouth, but then again he was no more culpable than anyone else), but he's also looked very, very good in patches, displaying the sort of sensibility, touch and positional nous which the shallower Ashbee's 14 years of professional experience can't shroud.

Ashbee will stay of course, but he has become part of City's problem and the futuristic midfield bully boys like Welsh and Peltier now hold the solution, if our manager can cling on to his nerve. Ashbee may be - inexplicably - the chairman's player of the year, but he ain't anyone else's. I doubt he's even Ashbee's player of the year. I hope he leaves courtesy of a Walsall-esque £75,000 bid while there is still little cloud matter above his head.

The season has been a lousy one, helmed by an inadequate manager whose coaching skills were overriden by a lack of self-belief in his tactics, an inclination to panic and a weakness which let powerful players start the plotting. Once he'd gone, safety became paramount but some of the garbage we've had to put up with - from players with heritages elsewhere and under our previous manager - suggests that a huge clearout is the best thing for all of us. No wonder Mr Pearson has called for some outside investment, as he can see that some serious money needs putting into the transfer kitty in order to make sure we never go through anything as torturous and as desperate as this again. Money even he doesn't have.

Enjoy the summer. (MR)