Before today's game I genuinely believed that we would get a point, in fact, blind optimism even had me talking beforehand with a couple of other members of the ever-dwindling rose tinted crew, of how Hillsborough has been our lucky ground on our last two visits.

Of course, looking back now, such foolish talk only serves to make our defeat such a bitter pill to swallow. So where to begin? Hillsborough itself is a very nice stadium, I'm obviously old enough to remember how it was years ago; miles of terracing, crap catering but a ground I was always strangely fond of.

Since the tragedy, the stadium has been transformed remarkably, (the catering is still crap though) and yet my fondness for Hillsborough has undergone a change.....I just find it almost eerie. The Rangers fans were seated in the Leppings Lane end of the ground, (how many other fans also whispered a silent prayer to themselves for all those poor souls?) a block behind the goal, probably around 800 or so.

I was surprised we had that many there, and as usual hope was high before kick off. This lasted all of 6 minutes before Wednesday took the lead. A ball came into the area, Matthew Rose made a pretty good clearance, but another Wednesday attack came about, the player took on Clarke Carlisle, turned his marker to shoot and score from just outside the area.

Poor clarke, his head visibly dropped after this. Within six minutes though we found ourselves level, Peter Crouch ran with the ball on the byline and somehow it was scrambled in. 1-1 and time for some rather exhuberant celebrating.

There then followed a period when we were actually the better side, and no that is not a joke. We picked up the pace, we strung a few decent passes together and at one stage were desperately unlucky not to have found ourselves 2-1 up. A good pass from Warren (Christopher, according to the pa guy) connected well to Karl Connolly who attempted a wicked lob over Kevin Pressman, only for him to see his effort hit the post.

And then, with six minutes to go til half time, Clarke was adjudged to have fouled one of the Wednesday frontmen. A wall (of sorts) was set up, the player who'd scored their first goal stepped forward to take it, struck the ball quite limply, it trickled through our wall and ended up in the back of the bloody net (may have hit one of our players on the way, but I was so pissed off I can't remember the details now).

Cue heads dropping, complete loss of confidence and dire defending. All of these factors contributed towards Wednesday's third goal on the stroke of half time. During the break, a large group of elderly men congregated onto the pitch, and contrary to the opinion of the chap sitting above me, they weren't the QPR reserves, but the Sheffield Wednesday runners up team of the 1961-62 season. Some kind of award was presented to them. Dear old souls.

So, with the afternoon starting to draw dark and cold, the second half started. Gerry made two substitutions, Sammy Koejoe for Connolly and Kevin Lisbie for Carlisle. Five minutes into the half and the afternoon took a real turn for the worse. A couple of neat passes, ably assisted by a defence in complete ruins by this time, a shot was unleashed and it was 4-1.

I didn't realise until afterwards that it was the same player who'd scored what was, and probably will be, the easiest brace he's ever likely to score. Gavin Peacock lobbed just over the bar shortly afterwards, but the manner in which our defence had crumbled, and the way our midfield was non existent, it was only a matter of time before our misery was complete.

I honestly cannot remember the details of the 5th goal, by this time I was in complete and utter shock. I do recall looking up to see the reaction of the rest of the R's faithful. Some guys were already walking out. With sixty five minutes gone we then earned our first corner of the second ha lf, didn't amount to anything but a sudden surge of support and chanting (pure bravado more than anything else) from the fans and the players lifted themselves.

Peter Crouch (he worked so hard, he must wonder what a mistake he's made in joining our club) scored with a header and a Pesch shot hit the post, we showed some spirit in those closing minutes but....We are a side lacking in any shred of confidence, we are nervous on the ball, we are nervous off the ball, as each game passes now we are in grave danger of the gap at the bottom of the table lengthening and taking these factors into consideration, I am beginning to despair as to where our first win in however many games will come from.

Players performances?

Ludo: No disrespect but he really should not be playing first team football anymore.

Breacker: His legs may have gone, but his heart is still there. This was proved today, he tried but goodness me, he needs to take that brake off his wheelchair. Actually earned a few half hearted chants of "one Tim Breacker" this afternoon. God bless him.

Carlisle: Poor Clarke. After his mare of a start he couldn't pick himself up. Was subbed at half time, though I don't know if he picked up an injury.

Warren: I thought he had a pretty decent first half, got a couple of useful crosses over, but is so scared of going forward. This showed today.

Rose: A bit shaky, but on the whole I thought he looked our best defender on the day.

Morrow: No comment. Everyone can say what they like about Wardley but I cannot for the life of me understand why he was left out and Morrow was put into the side to play in midfield.

Peacock: Lots of running and puffing. Tried to gee the players up during the second half.

Connolly: Did alright, don't know why, at half time, he was subbed and not Morrow.

Pesch: Pacey, lots of running, looked a bit lightweight, but tried I suppose.

Crouch: My QPR motm. Deserves better.

Koejoe: Didn't see too much of Sammy, got a couple of decent crosses over and made one or two useful runs.

Lisbie: Didn't see enough of him either to pass comment. Poor sod, what's the betting he's on the phone to Curbishley tomorrow begging to go back to Addicks reserve obscurity?

The one most defining mood that emerged from the QPR fans departing the stadium, was one of acceptance that we are facing relegation big time. The smell the coffee brigade have warned of this for a considerable amount of time now. For someone who has continually buried her head in the sand, and refused to even contemplate the dreaded R word, when I say that things are not looking too good for us, it's time to start worrying.

Then, on arriving back at the ground, on departing the coaches, we spotted, stuck up onto a wall outside the main entrance on South Africa Road, a large sheet of paper with the words written on it: "Wright out Francis out QPR RIP" Probably the saddest thing I've witnessed all day.