Hull City fan Natalie Murphy asks whether the Tigers’ character can carry them forward as they seek a second home win

We lasted until game seven before we were anything less than magnificent. That’s a strong word for a team on a five-game winless run. But things aren’t always what they seem. In 2026, you can launch a car off a ramp, cushion its landing with a few air canisters and claim it ‘flies’.

Because a performance can demonstrate more than a result. Until last weekend, Tigers fans have had something to cheer in every match, including a nil-nil draw against Villa. Even the loss at Newcastle brought a Tzolakis penalty save and a second-half that suggested we might at least get a draw after going 2-0 down before the break. We’ve had that thing that technology can never create – character.

Aside from the home and away wins against Man United and Coventry, our finest moment was perhaps at Chelsea. Facing a team that loves to score early and then keep scoring, we were behind after just seven minutes. As Stamford Bridge erupted, it felt like we were about to be found out. Like when that bloke was spotted spying for Southampton. Or when we appointed Rubén Sellés and it turned out he really had done his best at Southampton. Or when Ali Dia came on for Southampton.

But we weren’t. A brace from Belloumi gave us a proper chance of taking three points and added serious weight to the ‘Is this the way to Barcelona?’ Champions League chant. And when England’s first choice keeper was between the sticks at the MKM for Everton, what did we do? Gave Joffy his first start of the season and watched him chip Pickford with a finish as relaxed as Roary doing a few laps in the McVitie’s mobile.

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So, when we set off for Fulham, who were without a win, there wasn’t much to worry about. Five and a half hours on a coach? Absolutely no problem. That’s light work when you’re following a team as electric as Jakirovic’s Hull City. Spirits were so high that someone bought a speaker at the first service station stop just for a laugh. It was more of a day out than anything, a chance to see another nice part of London and visit an iconic ground. Then back home in time to catch the highlights on Match of the Day.

It’s not that a win was expected. No one who’s spent any time at all supporting a team expects that. It was more a comfort in the way we’ve handled ourselves this season. A confidence that we would meet whatever challenge Fulham could throw at us. A sense that we were in for another great game.

Neither was it an underestimation of our opposition. In truth, there was no estimation of them at all. In full tourist mode, I’d spent more time checking out the history of the club than pondering how things might go on the pitch. (Did you know they used to play their home games on a pitch with a tree on it? Insert your own Matt Crooks joke here.)

And it was a treat to step through the traditional iron turnstiles and find ourselves next to the famous cottage for a souvenir picture before walking along the back of the stands to take in views of the Thames, where rowers were making their way up and down the river and drinkers were watching them from the banks, warmed by the autumn sunshine.

And that was as good as it got. Because then the football started, and nothing was as it had seemed it was going to be. A Hull City side that had yet to disappoint at the highest level through focused effort and sheer determination was suddenly sapped of all energy and will. Fulham celebrated their first Premier League victory, but the fixture felt very Championship, with their missed chances, our zero shots on target and a reckless challenge that led to a deserved red in the closing seconds.

The weather also managed to disappoint. When it rained and half the home support disappeared, you just thought, who are these people for whom precipitation rules out participation? At home. For their first win. Is this a club or a living museum where people come to experience what it’s like to go to a football match? Like stepping back in time at Hull’s Streetlife. There was certainly an air of inexperience about the crowd, who appeared baffled by our songs and chants in the streets (before the game, obviously). Among the £2m semis, they stop the traffic and keep it a banter-free zone. Don’t expect many to make the return trip either. Those suspiciously pristine black-and-white scarves will not be trapped in a car window to flap freely all the way up the M1.

When we do meet them again in the league, the season will nearly be over and we’ll know what this match meant. Was it the moment everything came crashing to the ground, or simply a little turbulence on an otherwise smooth take-off back into the top flight?