Brentford 1 York City 2

On the streets of Brentford red lines serve as park at your peril warnings. But like the song, York City would not be moved.

After stationing themselves at Griffin Park tenacious City clamped themselves around the red and white striped shirts of the hosts.

The grip was relaxed only briefly. Enough, it must be said to cause a few harem-scarem moments, but not sufficient to deny all what the Minstermen most desired - victory.

Thanks to debut goals for Marco Gabbiadini, in his second City term, and Barry Jones, in his first winter in the colours, the visitors registered their first double of the season. It was also the first away win of the term since August when they reigned at a sun-soaked Millwall.

First-City had better watch out too for a visit from the man from the Inland Revenue.

Still they remain unbeaten within London's environs, wins at Brentford and Millwall strengthened by a draw at Fulham. They've even had share-alls at Watford and Fulham. Any more and they'll have to be forking out capital gains tax.

But the most tangible dividend from another southern sortie was the immediate counter from the setbacks suffered against Watford and Bristol City. To avoid a potential souffl collapse City displayed an admirable conviction.

Brentford may have been lodged in the anchor position, but they are a physical, no-frills side. In the not too distant past such obdurate opposition has always tested, often bested, the men from York.

And while Brentford may rely more on grit than gumption, that does not make them any less dangerous, especially as their dip to the bottom had bizarrely coincided with a five-match undefeated run.

Scrapping for their lives Brentford presented a potential pitfall. Like City the bulk of the Bees' plunder had been prised from draws. But unlike City they do not boast a forward force like Gabbiadini.

By his own admission he did not enjoy the most influential of first halves. But after the break he was the difference between the two sides. The Bees backline were as driven to distraction in the second-half as the so-called higher-calibre Hornets of Watford a week earlier.

This time Gabbiadini snaffled the goal he cherished. On a less frenetic afternoon he might have finished with a hat-trick. He also teed up exceptional chances for Jonathan Greening and Andy McMillan.

It's in that powerful frame of his, predictably barracked by opposing fans, that he produces the flashes of finesse, the explosions of immediate pace, the dashes of class that bode so well for the run-in.

Time is narrowing as the play-off pursuit is lengthening. But there is no substitute for pedigree and so as long as he leads the line the high percentage of possession that City command has a chance of being turned into goal. It's an act of alchemy that Gabbiadini's experience, honed at a higher level, can deliver.

After a ramshackle opening City found their rhythm. The flow was not irresistible, but it irrigated through Brentford and control was City's.

Rodney Rowe, courtesy of diverting a Paul Stephenson drive, and Steve Bushell went close, the latter dipping out of two tackles and unleashing a left-foot shot that scraped the paint off an upright.

Brentford busied a way into the game with a flurry of chances just before the interval. But it was an unconvincing pressure, unlike that of City straight after the interval.

Gabbiadini seized the spotlight. After two skimming shots were repelled he accepted a sliding pass from Andy McMillan to go one way, then the next, fancy footwork finished by a rippling shot into the net.

It was a top-notch moment and City were heartened. A diving header from Jones, who sprang a creaking offside trap, was the perfect touch to Alan Pouton's cross.

But David McGhee's deficit-trimmer four minutes later ensured a nervy climax, complete with near-obligatory goal-mouth fracas involving Bushell and Bees' substitute Niall Thompson, at odds with what had gone before.

It offered an intriguing contrast. Brentford's best weapon was obsession with the high ball, City's the rapier flicks and back-heels of Gabbiadini. It was a Griffin Park-life day, thankfully, when class won out.

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