By whichever standards we view it, this has so far been a non-descript, anti-climatic season for the two Bristol clubs.

Goals have too often been a rare indulgence. Tactics have, for the most part, lacked old-style excitement and instinctive imagination.

There have been signs, it is true, of an overdue lift during the past few days. Rovers won again when the habit had seemed to be slipping away – and a striker on loan encouragingly scored an elusive goal.

City emerged from a too familiar meandering first half against Leicester to discover some of their most fluent football for weeks, even if they also sustained their self-destructive traits in the final minutes.

Back in August, the prophetic, predictable talk was of genuine progress for both clubs. But the two managers have since then been forced too often to agonise over team selection and sagging form.

At Ashton Gate, as speculation over a new ground should have generated a mood of expectation, too many players have temporarily arrived and made no more than a token impact.

The atmosphere has at times been an embarrassing, untimely accompaniment to what should have been an enlightening prelude for a club with the prospects of such a glamorous future.

Should we, however, look for other, less obvious reasons for the current decline in Bristol football? We are all aware that over the years there has been much discussion about what is seen as a moribund outlook when it comes to suspect ambition in the city and this part of the West Country.

Something that has been noticeable in recent years, perhaps magnified this season, is the increasing absence of historic rivalry between the two clubs. This shouldn't imply regret at lessening tribal fire which, as we all know, can be unpleasant and negative.

But it does look as though the days of competitive fervour between City and Rovers have quietly disappeared. That's a pity. It could be stimulating, could work to the benefit of both clubs.

We have to accept that from their varying divisions they no longer meet. The good-natured digs and taunts (well, partly good-natured) have gone. So has the psychological fillip of the two sides in conflict on the field.

This column didn't think it would ever confess to it. But it really does seem as though that erstwhile partisanship has largely gone – and, with it, that element of raw humour and, physical intent to give Bristol's players in general a colourful and beneficial edge.

Brian Godfrey, who has died aged 69, was a midfielder liking to lead by example. He was an attacking player with an eye for goal and a 25-yard drive he could unleash to the surprise of many keepers. But his best quality was as skipper.

He encouraged his team-mates, had plenty to say – on the field and in the dressing room – and was well worth his three Wales caps.

His affection for football was all-absorbing and he was still playing Sunday League football, in Gloucester, well into his mid-50s. Still driving his team forward.

I shall remember him for the way he praised his father who only modestly played for his local side in North Wales.

The last time I spoke to him, he diverted the conversation to his dad's all-action, if untutored, skills. "Do you know," said Brian, "he played in one match when his side won 21-0."

There was a dramatic pause. Then he added: "And dad got 16 of them."

Brian led out Aston Villa against Spurs in the League Cup final. Never the fastest player, he still turned in some stirring performances for Villa. He was miffed when manager Vic Crowe called him into his office, told him that he wanted to sign Ray Graydon, and was prepared to offer his skipper in part exchange to Bristol Rovers.