Steve Claridge once told me a tale that underlined the robotic nature of football at Cambridge under John Beck.

Racing one on one with a centre half from the halfway line, he found the defender goading him every step of the way.

“Keep going down the middle, I dare ya,” taunted his marker, knowing full well that Claridge was under strict orders to veer off towards the corner flag.

The grass was left a lot longer out on the flanks, you see, as part of the masterplan to lump the ball towards the far extremities where it would hold up in the thick undergrowth to allow plenty of leverage for a cross for the big blokes in the box.

But Claridge went with his instinct that afternoon and kept bearing down on goal. He didn’t score – and was soon subbed by an irate gaffer for ignoring instructions.

For years, Beck’s name was synonymous with direct, route one football. He was not alone – Wimbledon and Graham Taylor’s Watford built their success on an approach that nobody would ever describe as the beautiful game.

But Beck was held up as the anti-Christ who took crude football to its extreme and was demonised for it through the 1980s. Ironically he is now employed by the Football Association as a “coach educator”, passing on his expertise to the next generation of tacticians ...

Judging by some of the comments emanating from the Midlands, he lives again three decades on in the shape of Phil Parkinson.

It shows how you often cannot see beyond the end of your nose. For all this time, I thought Parkinson’s City have played some of the best stuff witnessed at Valley Parade for far too many years to mention.

But I was clearly wrong. Thanks to those denizens of perfect, passing football from Coventry for pointing out that what we’ve really been witnessing is the reincarnation of Beck-style “hoof and lump”.

According to those of a Sky Blue persuasion, we should all be sporting neck braces by now for the amount of time we spend craning our heads to look to the clouds for the next NASA pass launched from back to front.

Gary Jones and Nathan Doyle in the centre of midfield, in the eyes of these self-appointed soccer style gurus, should be spending Saturday afternoon lounging in deck chairs with a good book and a cuppa. No need for them to get muddy when there is nothing to disturb the great expanse between both penalty areas.

“Bradford play back to front all day long,” said Coventry midfielder John Fleck. “A lot of teams play long ball at times but it’s every ball with them ... surely they can play some football at some stage.”

Fleck, incidentally, first made his name in La Liga.

Oh sorry, I mean the Scottish Premier League.

He was following on from his manager Steven Pressley’s bizarre post-match rant about the “dark ages”.

The heat of the moment had cooled by the next morning when Parkinson rang Pressley to settle their differences after the Sky TV audience had been treated to a touchline bust-up between the pair at the final whistle.

Pressley’s frustration at seeing his side lose the lead once again was understandable. There is nothing worse/better than a last-gasp equaliser – depending on which side you fall.

He was probably more annoyed at his defence for coughing up such a cheap penalty and hit out at the most convenient target. But his cheap shot cut no ice with anyone at Valley Parade.

“They should sort out their own house before slagging off other clubs,” argued City joint-chairman Mark Lawn. “They are a club letting down their own fans by not playing at their own ground.

“Perhaps in that position, they should be looking at their own problems.”

Sour grapes, heat of the moment, call it what you will. But mud sticks if you throw enough.

Will City now be viewed as long-ball merchants who fire everything up to James Hanson?

Parkinson will not deny that Hanson is a key weapon in his plans. But who wouldn’t utilise the talents of a targetman in the best form of his life?

It’s not as if Coventry’s keeper never looked to hammer the ball upfield at their own centre forward Leon Clarke ...

And from watching previous games, City had identified the air as a weak spot in Coventry’s back four. So surely any manager and team worth their salt would exploit that?

It doesn’t mean that City do it week in, week out, every time they get the ball. No wonder Parkinson instantly hit back to question how often Pressley had watched his side over the last 18 months.

Yes, the Bantams went more direct on Sunday but that was the idea. And as they chased the game, according to Lawn, “we didn’t go direct enough in the last 15 minutes...”

But all Coventry’s bleating has done is highlight the fact that they don’t like it up ’em. Expect every future opponent, if they didn’t know already, to start taking to the air and targeting that suspect central defence.

It shouldn’t change the perception of City. They employ more routes to goal than just the first one.

If in doubt, check the evenness of the Valley Parade pitch.