THE end of the Viking Festival and York City fall victims of the biggest heist of pillage and robbery since good old Eric wielded his blood-axe.

But it's not as if Watford were magnificent or malevolent marauders - far from it.

The Division Two leaders had been caned, then tamed in all but name by the Minstermen marvels until the sixth minute, yes the sixth minute, of stoppage time.

Then, substitute Steve Palmer swung a right boot greedily at a bobbling ball and a 25-yard shot buzz-sawed into the bottom corner of Mark Samways' net for the most unlikely and undeserved point the leaders will steal all season.

It was the Hornets' first shot, their only shot, on target at Samways in the entire match.

No wonder home fans were filled to the seething brim with outright frustration, most of it directed venomously at referee George Cain for the stoppage time addition.

In the 95 minutes before Palmer's punishing intervention they had witnessed their red-clad heroes initially best the table-toppers, then fend off their route-one second-half pressure. There had been lots of alarms, but no surprises from the leaders.

But achingly, heart-breakingly, City were deprived of what would have ranked as their most important and prized victory of the season.

Even more insulting was the realisation that this was the second time this season City had been stung by the title favourites.

Five months earlier the first meeting had also ended 1-1 when, by rights the Minstermen merited the distinction of being the first winners at Vicarage Road this term, let alone the first team to come away with a point.

At least then Watford had the relative good grace to grab their equaliser at an acceptable juncture, and not at the indecent moment on Saturday to wreck what was destined to be the happiest of homecomings for City's new signing Marco Gabbiadini.

Recruited to add bold spice and goal spite to City's attack Gabbiadini delivered the first in spades, and would have also conveyed the second in ample style but for the shovel hands of Watford goalkeeper Alec Chamberlain.

Twelve years earlier the feisty forward had marked his first City debut with a goal. It was only the leaps and bounds of the Watford custodian that prevented a second such dream debut.

Gabbiadini was a revelation. Out of senior football for some time there was no evidence of rustiness. From the opening seconds when he killed a pass with the stun of a world snooker champion he took his cue to put on an effervescent display.

This was not a roll back the years reminder of raw, bustling youth. Gabbiadini was now restored to a Bootham Crescent patrol at ease with the demands of leading an attack.

His first touch was true, his movement was fluid and forceful, his pace had the Watford defensive cordon more rattled than the chains of galley-slaves ordered to row faster to allow the captain to go water-skiing.

And as a catalyst to the other men in red his powerful presence ushered in sparky performances right across the front. Gary Bull and Paul Stephenson revelled in the intelligent use of the ball, which in the first-half especially, ensured Watford were mainly on the back foot.

With Steve Bushell haring from deep to support the attack City boasted a freshness and impudence that suggested goals. However, they only had one, a 26th-minute penalty rammed home by skipper Tony Barras for his seventh goal of the season, four now from the spot, and awarded for a trip on guess who, Gabbiadini.

But that elusive 'killer' second strike remained intangible thanks to Chamberlain, who made startling saves from Gabbiadini and a Bushell belter just before half-time.

Soon after the break Gabbiadini twice tested Chamberlain's reflexes, while a Mark Tinkler free-kick orbited the 'keeper's gloves only to smack off the crossbar.

At 1-0 there was always the nagging sensation that Watford counter. And switching to a no-frills approach the totemic Jason Lee, plus the mazy running of Ronny Rosenthal, offered some menace.

But despite enjoying 20 minutes of solid possession Watford could not find a way past a back-line, whose defiance was as towering as the Angel of the North.

That is until that man Palmer let loose the shot that stunned City's world.

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