How quickly a season can turn. The grey cloud of déjà vu that settled upon the Circle following the opening day defeat to Plymouth is now totally lifted. A win and a draw in the League have played no small part in permitting rays of sunshine through; but let us not underestimate the role that the much-maligned League Cup has played in restoring confidence.

The victory at Crewe was an enjoyable jaunt and a handy reminder that no matter how disappointing Plymouth was, our players are not entirely without ability. It set us up handily for the useful point at Coventry. Now, we know our players have some character too in repelling Premiership Wigan at their warehouse-like JJB Stadium. How this will work as a platform for the approaching autumn is obviously unknowable – but nothing but good can from our first away win at a top-division side in thirty-five years.

Changes we expected, and changes we saw, with the Phil Brown keeping the 4-4-2 formation that has served us well of late, and electing to staff it thus: Myhill; Dawson, Turner, Brown, Delaney; Featherstone, Hughes, Livermore, Elliott; McPhee, Bridges. Six alterations to the side that outplayed Norwich on Saturday, countered by Chris Hutchings’ eight for his Wigan side, who presently lie in an improbable third place in the top division.

They do not look like likely to remain there. Even allowing for their rash of alterations, such figures as Mario Melchiot, Kevin Kilbane, Henri Camara lined up for the home side, together with rumoured City transfer target and one-time loanee Caleb Folan, who made an inauspicious 22 minute appearance for us in 2001.

City began the game attacking the empty South Stand, wittily encouraged to give us a song by a surprisingly large and energetic away support, and quickly looked every bit as capable as their high-flying hosts. Folan had the evening’s first chance however, toe-poking a close-range effort directly at Boaz Myhill. This spurred Wigan on, and they won a flurry of corners that City capably dealt with.

It appeared that Elliott had been instructed to shoot on sight by Phil Brown, as he looked to race goalwards and let fly wherever possible – which, to be fair, is his primary threat – and he did just that after a clever through ball from midfield, forcing home keeper Mike Pollitt to save from twelve yards.

Midway through the half, Myhill pulled off the save of the evening with a flying one-handed save to palm over a thumping Fitz Hall header and keep City level. Losing his first-team spot appeared to have sharpened his game significantly, and our presently-deposed number one may not be out of the side for much longer.

City were gaining the ascendancy now, with Livermore and Hughes besting their torpid adversaries in the midfield, and a goal now looked possible. McPhee should have scored it, haring on goal after a horrible defensive blunder let him advance unchallenged towards Pollitt, but the shot was of the frustratingly indecisive vintage from which we regrettably associate him, and the chance was gone.

No matter though, for St Stuart is on hand, and on 32 minutes gives us a deserved lead with a moment of visionary brilliance. An appalling mis-kick by one of theirs – unidentifiable from our distant vantage – screws across the field five yards outside the Wigan area, and heads towards Melchiot. He stands, watches, then lumbers across, probably sighing at their sheer tedium of it all, to clear the ball – by which time, our Northern Irish hero has already hurled himself at the ball and with the outside of his mighty left boot sent the ball flying up and over the stranded Pollitt for a quite magnificent goal.

The City support, several hundred and more strong, capered in amazed glee. A truly outstanding goal, gifted perhaps by witless contributions by a brace of Wiganfolk, but executed with the instinctive verve of the Elliott of three years ago. 

It is all City now. It really is. Wigan are flat-footed and reeling ‘neath a Tiger onslaught. Elliott should have doubled our advantage after stooping low at the far post to meet a cross that he somehow directed wide, while Bridges was the next to come close after squirming free in the area and belting the ball into the side-netting with Pollitt beaten for pace.

Exhilarating stuff. Wigan are rocking, City are battering them, it is fabulous to watch. However, just as the Tigers were scaling the heights of rampancy, we are nearly caught at the back as half-time nears, with a free header by Camara falling thankfully into the safe grasp of Myhill. However, we survive and the troops bound off to hearty applause.

What a curious construction the JJB Stadium is. It positive reeks of rich man’s toy, although it is not the worst of the modern crop of mid-sized stadia of which ours remains the best example. Its corners are not filled in, meaning that four equally high stands squarely face the pitch – and they are steep, fearfully steep for the supporter attempting to retake his place at the top of the stand clasping refreshments. But the beer queue moves at a rapid pace, the stewards are content for mass standing to take place (good – we salute this) and a decent racket can be made with relatively small numbers. We’ll encounter worse on our travels this season.

Which is all the people of Wigan had turned up in. 5,400 is the gate, nearly one-fifth of whom hail from God’s country to the east. However, the home fans – aided by a fucking drum, the craven fools – attempt to stir their stumbling side into a degree of life. And it has to be observed that the majority of the second half action takes place a hundred yards from the gathered Tiger Nation, with Wigan placing us firmly on the back foot.

Folan is first to miss for Wigan, a glancing header flashing wide from a corner, and they win a few more. However, the nascent Turner/Brown axis of awesome dually repel them all, and City stand firm. Myhill then diverts a stinging Brown shot wide, an outstanding save for a flashing drive that appeared to have enough pace to beat a less alert keeper than ours.

City are holding on now, not quite grimly, but with a slightly pained expression. It rouses the Tiger Nation, who repeat the trick of Coventry by dividing themselves into left and right halves and alternately signing at each other. Your humble correspondent – finding himself to the right once again – must admit to liking this and wishing for future repetitions. If home fans aren’t going to engage any verbal jousting, we may as well keep ourselves occupied.

Livermore is cautioned for a foul we shall charitably term “late”, while Elliott quickly follows him into referee Illderton’s notebook for kicking Melchiot, something Chris Hutchings should have tried at half-time. The game has settled now, and City look to make occasional forays on the break. Wigan allow themselves to become stretched a few times, but City generally lacked the numbers going forward to have any serious hope of grabbing a decisive second, and increasingly the ninety minutes seemed certain conclude without too much scoring.

We appeared to be the beneficiaries of a thoughtful act of generosity when the referee waved away a very strong claim for a penalty after a brace of ugly challenges on the edge of our area were both unpunished. Again, difficult tell from such distance, but the instinct was penalty, and we may have received a dose of fortune.

A fat moon rose over Wigan’s deserted South Stand, and Ashbee came on for the tiring Livermore. Some have speculated that Ashbee is a better player for having the fearsome presence of Wayne Brown in the side, and it is definitely true that our captain has looked improved of late. His contribution this evening was unfussy and energetic, precisely what a player of his nature ought to provide.

As the game entered the last fifteen minutes, Wigan had their best chance of the night when the marvellously-named Julius Ahgahowa was sent through on goal with only Myhill to beat, but he wildly swipes his shot wide to ribald guffaws at the far end.

Marney replaces McPhee as Brown tightens us to a 4-5-1 formation, and although it’s not a deployment for the purist, it works and Wigan are smothered and harried into submission. We nearly score next, as Hughes flashes a close-range header just over the crossbar, but we immediately reform our pattern and Wigan now begin to fear a disappointing home defeat will not be averted.

Alarm is raised when a loose ball falls to one of theirs, but our attitude is exemplified by Michael Turner, who explodes from his position to effect a bone-crunching block on the shot, and the game is now up. Deano replaces Bridges, whose methodical exit appeared to take several hours, prompting four minutes of injury time to be announced. We will not be foiled though, and the Tiger Nation joyfully serenades its doughty warriors home to a genuinely stirring victory.

This was an outstanding victory. Forget the disrupted nature of Wigan’s line-up, they are a Premier League side with the vast riches that accompany that status and that dwarf our own resources. And of course, we were not without a few changes of our own.

No, this was a victory that resonated because of the nature of its achievement. From the accomplished Myhill, through the impeccably positioned full-backs Delaney and Dawson, to the massively promising Turner/Brown partnership, along to the lively and composed midfield, up to tireless front two, this was a win crafted with poise, determination and skill.

And so, we await the Third Round draw, with the equally likely possibility of Manchester United at home or Plymouth away. This feels like a Cup Run more so than our voyage to the same stage last season, possibly because it’s been achieved in an altogether more impressive fashion than edging past two lower league sides at home. And although the outcome is unlikely to end up with Ian Ashbee hoisting aloft the trophy at Wembley, one feels that in terms of its contribution to our season the 2007/8 League Cup has already been very good to us. (AD)