An appallingly lacklustre display by a City combination of older stalwarts (Hallworth, Legg, Bonner, Eckhart & Nogan) and a shower of clueless midgets picked from the youth ranks.  If Sam Hamman really means it when he says he's going to encourage the young talent at the club, then he should start by feeding them.   And talking of young talent, the new kit makes Andy Legg look even more like a member of Llanrumney Under 12's.

All-in-all, a game which County, to their enormous credit, dominated throughout and should have won.  Sorry to say, but save the non-league paunchiness of some of the older County part timers, it was extremely difficult to tell which of the teams were from the Nationwide League.

One ray of hope from the evening was the energetic, yet controlled first-half display by Mark Bonner who held together City's fraying midfield effort in the first 45 minutes. Another was the highly accomplished performance in central defence by young Gethin Jones who showed  'Hansenesque' composure all evening. It was he who threaded the neat thirty yard pass through to Martyn Giles to start the move for the Earnie's well-taken goal (and immaculate  ensuing somersault). We've already whipped Gethin Jones from under Swansea's nose.  Let's sign him now and play him at right back!

Sadly, John Hallworth's days seem numbered as City's first choice between the sticks.  With the exception of a vintage close-range stop from County's Jason Donovan early in the fist half, Hallworth appears to lack his old confidence nowadays. Midway through the second half he flapped 'man-drowning-at sea' style at an innocuous cross from the left when seemingly unchallenged by the County forwards.  He doesn't seem to have taken to the newly liberalised steps law either which, it has to be said, is something of an affront to his hermitic six yard box instinct.

As for the other events on Monday evening, well it was altogether a pretty weird experience watching City at Newport Stadium, an  unprepossessing venue at the best of times which can perhaps best be described architecturally as Son of Leckwith made out of Cornflake boxes. I sat at the back of the stand a few rows in front of a very youthful-looking Colin Addison who was later joined by County old boy Steve Lowndes who was sporting an awful 'same-but shorter' nineteen- eighties Mullet.

The first sign I saw of the ensuing mayhem were the coppers at Newport railway station.  The second was as I was approaching the Stadium 15 minutes before kick-of and noticed a well- known City foot-soldier (or should that be lieutenant?) in the passenger seat of a small hatchback which was travelling away from the ground in earnest. Perhaps he'd forgotten his calling card.

I left the game a few minutes early to avoid the snarl up.  By now the Hooli-copter was running low on gas and Corporation Road, the main drag back into Newport Town Centre, had a pungent air of Hooli-aftermath  -  buzzing with cop cars,  lined with rubber neckers out of their houses, a nice smattering of glass outside the Corpa Hotel.   About five meat wagons flashed past me before I'd reached the M4 at Tredegar Park. 

Altogether a sad evening, but for the South Wales Argus it was like all their Christmas's had come at once. Tuesday's edition gave saturation coverage to the previous night's fighting and the 'Man Cuts Finger Opening Sardine Can' exclusive they were about to run was forced to give way to 'Soccer Yobs on Rampage'.

For me, the night was only redeemed by the appearance in the Granstand of Jason Fowler and his beautiful little girlfriend. During the game, Jason appeared a little detached from things, perhaps dreaming of a new life down at The Gas. But his bird was very animated.  What a tasty bit of stuff, or as Raymond Chandler's Marlow once drawled "The kinda broad that'd make a Bishop kick through a stained-glass window".   Oh roll on Saturday.