CCFC 3 v 1 Fulham

Arriving in plenty of time to settle the nerves before this must-win of all must-wins (there seem to have been plenty of these lately) against the only team in the league that we have credible grounds to feel superior to, we stood and luxuriated in the spring sunshine. Was this a harbinger of a change in our fortunes? Is the future 'so bright we gotta wear shades' or would we be 'blinded by the light'?

After the adventurous three-centre-backs-two-wing backs formation that narrowly failed to do the trick at Spurs last time out, Ole reverted to a 4-4-2 (or possibly more accurately a 4-4-1 + 1, the super-charged Duracell Campbell playing just behind big Kenwynne, helping out in midfield and occasionally sweeping up as the last man at the back. The man is a force of nature!) It's not a wholly convincing ploy as it results in a tendency to play the long ball and although Jones was proving a handful for the vertically challenged Fulham central defenders, it meant that our greatest creative outlet, Noone, was a spectator for much of the first half.

The game began as a disjointed affair with both teams unable to keep hold of the ball. Anyone seeking vindication of a not unreasonable claim that we were watching dead men walking back to the Championship must have felt particularly smug. The game had about as much shape as Eric Pickles on a space-hopper balancing a plate of jelly.

We definitely had the edge early on but apart from one inspired run across the edge of the box by Campbell, leaving three Fulham defenders in his wake but seeing his curling shot pushed away for a corner, there was no reason to think that we might not extend our 6 1/2 goal drought with some ease.

We were generally slow in possession and tending to react to situations rather than playing with any purpose or giving any indication that we were playing to a plan. Mind you the opposition was worse, busy in midfield but with no thrust upfront and woefully misshapen and ponderous at the back.

Noone finally had the chance to run at the defence after 20 minutes and Jones should have done better when collecting the ball from the winger, shooting first time straight at the grateful Stekenlenburg.

Towards half time we began to exert some pressure and as the board went up to indicate that we were approaching the nebulous twilight zone of Pro Supplements-sponsored time added on, Noone came in from the left hand side of the box and played a ball into the path of Caulker who'd stolen in behind the negligent Fulham defence. 1-0 and the relief was palpable as the team walked off to big smiles and raucous acclaim rather than the anticipated resigned shrug.

Fulham made a change at half time replacing the veteran Riise and shortly afterwards bringing in another attacking midfielder. As a result the game opened up, the opposition suddenly a much more potent force going forward but inevitably leaving space at the back.

Jones had a wonderful chance to double our lead, meeting MOTM Noone's pin-point cross but inexplicably angled the ball past the post with the goal at his mercy. The significance of passing up the opportunity became apparent only minutes later when German international Holtby, on loan from Spurs, found space in the box to fire home the leveller on the hour.

Solskjaer often talks up his team's chances by emphasising their 'character' and commitment. Up until today this has seemed pretty vacuous manager-speak designed to placate a sceptical media. We've got used to a sequence of events that begins with the opposition scoring followed by the opposition repeating the feat, followed by an early stampede for the exits and concluding with a half-hearted ripple of muted thanks at the final whistle from those few fans left inside the stadium and a lonely shoe-gazing walk back down Ninian Way.

The response today was different. It was almost as though they were affronted by chutzpah of a clearly inferior opposition in even contemplating the possibility that they might get something from the game and within five minutes we had retaken the lead.

Mutch came over to our side to take a corner which was put out for another corner from which Kim's opportunist strike was put out for another corner from which Captain Caulker headed powerfully down and over the indecisive prostate keeper. It was a pretty awful goal to concede but one of huge importance to our cause.

Not content with a narrow advantage we continued to take the game to Fulham and within five minutes - that's a different five minutes to those mentioned previously as that would represent an unlikely though much appreciated spatial continuum in which we continually retake the lead thereby significantly improving our goal difference and easing our relegation worries - we had consolidated the lead after Campbell's point blank header was saved but deflected back off defender Reither and rolled apologetically over the line.

From this point we comfortably saw the game out and with reports that other results had been favourable our day in the sun was complete. At the finale there was just time left to send in the clowns as Vincent Tan arrived pitch side, making his entrance again with his usual flair in a risible attempt to take the applause and ingratiate himself with the faithful. The man has no sense of timing, shame or self awareness. I think he should say sorry.