Phil Brown really doesn’t rate Cup competitions. The rollcall of players summoned for duty in South Wales looked like one of those teamsheets you get at half-time in a pre-season friendly when all the proper players have had their go. Still, they still should have been more than strong enough to dispose of this headlit home side, yet they weren’t and they didn’t.

Nobody – let’s say that again – nobody who began at Blackburn took to the pitch at the semi-impressive Liberty Stadium (better than Leicester and Southampton, but not up to the KC or Stadium of Light standard as nu-stadia goes). Brown looked in his store cupboard and fished out Duke; Mendy, Cooper, Brown, Doyle; Barmby, France, Hughes, Halmosi; Windass, Folan. The latter pairing were evidently competing with one another for the King-sized space due to open in the frontline at the weekend.

Swansea, since flogging Darryl Duffy, picked 11 names I didn’t recognise, especially as they too seemed questioning of the tie’s viability by leaving dangerous centre forward Jason Scotland on the bench.

The first 45 minutes were comically one-sided and City had it won, really. The lead was established in the opening ten minutes with some divine football. Hughes and Barmby oozed arrogance as their one-touch passing dizzied the home defence, and Folan had ample room to slide Windass in. Deano’s one touch beat the last defender as he steered the ball beyond moonlighting West Stand sponsor Dorus De Vries.

City were in control. It was a game to be played in dinner jackets with an option to chomp on a fat cigar, such was the ease of the game’s flow in the Tigers’ direction. That they didn’t capitalise on it, initially through profligacy and later through a poor attitude, raises question marks about how motivated Premier League reserves can be when they are deemed only good enough for bobbins Carling Cup ties at the pubic end of the country. It wasn’t good enough.

Swansea’s one other saving grace in the first half was there ability to catch the Tigers’ offside. Each striker was guilty of mistimed runs, though there was comedy to be had from the tardiness of many of the flagged signals from the touchline which are no less frustrating, for all the justification they may have had. The rules need looking at, really.

Oh dear, it’s hard to get too upset about what happened afterwards. The point is that City were trying to entertain at the expense of delivery – hence some flashy passes, delightful one-touch movements and a total lack of ruthlessness. There were moments of ill-fortune – the impressive France glanced a header just wide after Folan clipped a ball in from the corner of the box; Windass miskicked his effort from Folan’s flick after Duke tried to find Porthcawl with an almighty punt out; and Cooper stabbed inches wide with an outstretched foot after Hughes’ corner evaded the rest.

Swansea’s best efforts came from defensive indecision, with Wayne Brown especially to the fore, yet their tendency to pass short or hit each other just made City fans laugh. Half time, comfortable if not finished, and the handful of hardy City souls (my guess is that not too many actually travelled from Hull, mind – especially as Tiger Travel set off at 11.30am, so goodness knows what time the bus got back) in the upper north stand (as far away from the home support as possible – tucked into hot pies and cold lager, feeling secure.

Oooch.

City folded, panicked, shed themselves of responsibility, and Swansea took control.

Early in the second half, sub Gorka Pintado managed to keep his feet despite a telegraphed trip from Brown and slid a gilt-edged ball back to Guillem Bauza, who was blinded by the lights and blasted over. A big let-off.

Duke then pulled off a marvellous save from a Pintado header, with the sub left totally unwatched from a corner. Only a handful of minutes had elapsed further when Pintado – again – won a header from a dangerous ball, only for the thighs of Windass – yes, Windass – to keep it out on the line.

It was a question of time, really. Windass was immediately replaced by Marlon King after his defensive heroics – I suspect it will be Windass doing the replacing of King on Saturday, mind – and before the new arrival could even spit on the grass, as all subs seem to do these days, the home side had equalised.

Jordi Gomez, a loanee and evidently dangerous, chipped in a luscious ball for Pintado, who defined the term ‘impact substitute’ better than most, to take down impeccably and guide in a most clinical manner past Duke. 1-1, and no less than Swansea City deserved, despite being Swansea City.

At this point, City had a bit more of a go, if only after realising what a deep embarrassment they were being. Folan was not quite tall enough to reach Brown’s cross header as the net awaited. France, the best outfield player on show in the dirty silver kit, put a splendid through ball into King’s path but a late and clean tackle saved the day for the home team. King then flashed a shot wide of the far post from a narrow angle after sub Nicky Featherstone, whose brief endeavours did him some favours in comparison to his more distinguished team-mates, sent him into space with a nicely weighed ball.

Extra time seemed an inevitability now, not a jolly prospect when faced with being in Wales until pushing midnight with a home somewhere a long way away to go to. However, City nearly rescued us from such a monstrous prospect by offering the home side the victory in injury time.

Brown chopped down Manchester United loanee Febian Brandy (awesome name) and Pintado stepped up to win the match for Swansea. However, the Duke, the Duke, the Duke was on fire, and he guessed correctly to bat away the waist-high kick.

A most bittersweet moment. Duke’s save was tremendous and after all the City reserve custodian has been through, he deserves that touch of glory. But we wanted to go home. We were fantastically bored, few of us cared enough about Carling Cup progress now we’re bigshot Premier League glitterati with fish of considerably greater girth to fry. And now, yes, extra time. And still we didn’t fancy our chances.

The manager brought Michael Turner on for young Cooper, who was out of puff but had acquitted himself admirably. Expect him not to play for us in the Premier League though. The game began again. We barely noticed.

Oh, on 103 minutes Turner, as if to get it over with once and for all (shame there’s no golden goal rule any more) took a slice off Shaun McDonald in the box and Gomez this time stepped up. Duke was sent the opposite way and Swansea’s fans celebrated loudly and provocatively, as if they’d just taken the lead against a Premier League side’s reserves.

City had one great chance to prolong the agony into a shoot out. Hughes, a profound disappointment throughout, clipped one last free kick into the danger zone and a panic-stricken defender headed across his own goal towards Folan. From three yards, the big striker’s ineffectual display summed itself up when he nodded over.

The final whistle was greeted with joy from the home fans and little more than mild grumbles from the travelling Tiger Nation, who just wanted to get out. City’s second half performance was abject, but an early exit will be counted as a blessing in disguise come May if our heads remain above Premier League water.

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Duke 8; Mendy 5; Cooper 6; Brown 5.5; Doyle 6; France 7; Hughes 5.5; Barmby 6; Halmosi 6; Folan 5.5; Windass 6.5; King 7; Featherstone 6.5; Turner 6.5