18. Oct, 2021

Hull City in 2026... a vision...

It's been a disappointing end to what has been a bright start to the 2026/27 season.

City's long unbeaten run has been ended by Sheffield Wednesday, shouted on by 10,500 of their excited fans in the "East Stand" away end at the ground formerly known as the K.Com.

City's dwindling support meanwhile were mainly populating the North Stand and have long since made their way home after a frustrating experience.

The yo-yo club of East Yorkshire have not spent a season in the same league consecutively since 2019-20.

Relegated, promoted, relegated, promoted, relegated, promoted and relegated in consecutive seasons.

The club has also been for sale for a dizzying 13 years, and in Grant McCann they now have the longest serving manager in the football league.

Dave Burns, shivering in the autumnal drizzle, steadies himself on one of the bins in West park and tweets…

“Hearing a whisper about an Estonian bit-coin millionaire making a bid for the club…what would you say #hcafc fans”

But Dave knows in his heart that he’s going to be tweeting next to the bins until retirement and as he casts a withering eye towards Peter Swan who is drinking a can of Frosty Jack on one of the kid’s roundabouts he turns off his phone.

Meanwhile by the Assem Allam statue by reception John Uzzell continues his small but spirited protest. He was part of “City til I die” then the Hull City Supporters Trust and after that ended in 2024 he launched “City til I retire” which didn’t seem to garner quite as much support.

He wouldn’t mind if Old Man Allam had this giant bronze statue as a memorial, but Assem’s perfectly fine and is living in a deluxe bungalow in Whitby. 

John sings his remix version of “Common People” whilst Rich Walker strums away on an acoustic guitar and Luke Flanagan videos the occasion to be uploaded onto social media. The years of ups and downs have taken their toll on the three city stalwarts and a few grey hairs now sprout in a jaunty fashion from their protest beards.

Above them in the annals of the stadium, the reddened features of Grant McCann glow in the fading evening light. He’s called an emergency meeting with his assistant player coach, captain, and best friend Malik Wilks.

 Is it time to move on from the 4-3-3 identity that has served them so well, then so badly, then well, then really badly, then quite well again, then actually not very well after that? It’ll remain a “private matter” is what Grant told the Alexa Amazon interviewer after the game although he didn’t like her computerised tone. He had Dave Burns side-lined, then Mike White was told not to come back, after that he complained about Gwilym Lloyd’s facial hair and then finally he asked for Baz Cooper to be given a restraining order after he questioned his tactics following their 23rd consecutive loss last season.

 “These journalists don’t know how hard it is Malik” he spits into the general direction of his trusted friend. “Did I ever tell you about how I used to live in a proper tough area, where everyone was double hard?”

“No boss” sighs Wilks… he’s heard it all before but he doesn’t want to be the next casualty of Grant’s insecurities, nobody has heard from Cliff Byrne since 2025 and Tony Pennock is still walking with a limp.

“Yeh, honest mate everyone was like Jean Claude Van Damme, battering each other’s faces in every day with bricks and stuff and that was just primary school…”

But Malik’s attention is taken by the starting of a large sports car in the car park and he glances in the general direction.

Ehab Allam has had a tough day, he was on the verge of selling young Rocco Coyle to Newcastle for ten million pounds but at the last minute the deal has been scuppered. Newcastle dropped their offer and now he has had to put the asking price of the club back up to £100 million. It won’t be popular but somebody is bound to pay it he thinks. Even if we don’t win the league because Sheffield Wednesday are bigger than a fun run across China, we’ll come second and then they’ll come begging back. Like that Turkish version of Simon Cowell, the American who wanted to turn the ground into a rodeo arena or even better those blokes who can’t afford West Ham. It’s a matter of time he thinks before speeding off in his Google Plus Sports Cruiser at high speeds into the gloomy night.

“Malik, I thought our shape was pretty good today, Malik? MALIK!”

The experienced flick flacking, one footed genius is shaken from his daydream.

“Yes, I think so, it was, yeh, definitely gaffer”

Grant’s eyes smile a little as his trusted assistant has confirmed what he already knew.

“I think you’re right Malik, we’ll keep plugging away with things, we’ll watch the film tomorrow and then we’ll…we’ll you know… keep things in house”

“Yes gaffer”

"I knew you'd do better than Cliff did Malik..."

And with that the two men depart the stadium and head for the bus home to Hessle…


"Yes Malik"

"Don't you think the club could pay for a car for us to drive home, Tony struggles on his gammy leg to get to the bus stop?"

"You want to find out why Tony limps Malik?"

"No gaffer"

"I used to eat metal for breakfast at school Malik..."

"Yes gaffer"