This was the kind of result to stoke Cardiff’s bid for survival with conviction rather than wildly optimistic hope. The gap to safety and Brighton has been whittled to two tantalising points. Given everything the Welsh club have endured this term, on and off the pitch, to be in such close contention with four games to play would already have seemed miraculous. Now, remarkably, the momentum may actually be with them.
The panic that gripped the majority inside this arena, players and supporters alike, betrayed as much with the home side overwhelmed by their newfound deficiencies long before the end. Where they wilted abjectly for the second home game in succession, their approach choked by anxiety and all confidence utterly drained away, Cardiff’s players and staff would congregate in front of the away support after the final whistle with belief pepped.
It was quite a time to secure a top-flight away victory by a two-goal margin for the first time in 63 years. “Bloody hell, I was only seven,” said Neil Warnock. “People said it would be our last game in the Premier League, but we’re alive and kicking. You might think I’m in cloud cuckoo land but we’re more than capable of picking up points against any of the teams we’ve got left to play this season.”
The margin for error remains slim given two of those teams are Liverpool and Manchester United, but the manner in which Cardiff coped under pressure bodes well. A team who had won only once in seven games simply had to seize the initiative in Sussex. Brighton could bemoan the non-award of an early penalty after Bruno Ecuele Manga grappled with Lewis Dunk but, in truth, Cardiff were everything Albion were not: disciplined, composed, ruthless. Their gameplan was exquisite.
They were abrasive through their core and slippery across their front-line. Aron Gunnarsson, the kind of street fighter suited to this kind of scrap, and Joe Ralls were all tigerish energy, revived as if this was a fixture plucked from the tail end of their Championship promotion campaign, with Leandro Bacuna “like Paul Pogba when he came on”, according to the manager.
They hassled and harried, discomforting Albion’s jittery midfielders whose passing became ever more erratic. Sean Morrison’s late smothering of Florin Andone’s attempt summed up the commitment of their rearguard, and they had a cutting edge on the counterattack with which Brighton could not contend.
The majesty of the goal that set the tone, in amid all the frenetic huff and puff, had floored the home side. Another Brighton attack had run aground just outside the penalty area, with Nathaniel Mendez-Laing sprinting upfield with no opponent close enough to muster a challenge. The free signing from Rochdale exchanged passes with Junior Hoilett on the flank, Albion defenders waving him through, before whipping a sumptuous shot from distance across Mat Ryan and into the far corner.
Brighton, in truth, rarely played like a team capable of recovering from that early setback. They had started well enough but faded as soon as they met proper resistance and never exerted any kind of control. Instead they looked every bit a side who had won only twice in the league this year, with even the confidence of Dunk and Shane Duffy, once the team’s forte, long since shattered.
Early in the second half, Víctor Camarasa floated an inviting free-kick into the six-yard box where Morrison, having escaped Glenn Murray with the slightest of nudges, leapt unchecked behind Dunk – drawn under the flight of the ball – to thump his header down and across Ryan.
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It was a wretched concession, and one to prompt another wave of frustration cascading down from the home support as Chris Hughton, memories of Norwich’s late-season capitulation under his charge five years ago perhaps flooding back, watched on helplessly.
“As a team, as a club, and as individual players, there is only one way we can ensure we stay in this division: that’s by fighting as hard as we can,” he said. “If we’re not able to score the goals we need then we have to make sure we’re not conceding.” Four of their last five games are against sides from the top eight. The sense of dread is growing.
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