GORDON STRACHAN flopped into his chair in the press room and issued a big sigh before answering the question: "Was it a fair result?"

"I suppose so," said Saints' new boss who had seen his side draw a game they should have won but could have lost.

In a perverse way, he might have been happier with this result than a win which might have blurred his vision of the task ahead of him.

If nothing else, Strachan stopped the rot of home defeats. He sent out a team to do a job, and it got half-done.

It was a result that must have left new signing Agustin Delgado scratching his head as to why Saints need him.

They had little trouble scoring goals. The problem was they couldn't keep them out and you wonder whether somebody whispered in his ear: "I don't suppose you can play at the back as well, can you?"

Saints were ultimately left moonstruck by Venus. One rocket-shot and two set pieces with the pin-point accuracy of a space probe landing left Strachan with more defensive questions playing on his mind than a Pentagon think-tank.

Give credit to Venus for the laser-guided bullet into the top corner which fired Ipswich back into the game at 3-2 on 64 minutes, although Strachan will want to know how he was allowed to carry the ball 15 yards unopposed before setting his range-finder.

The Saints boss will really want to know, though, how Ipswich twice scored from corners. Venus's accuracy exposed Saints soft underbelly and Marcus Stewart benefited twice with goals so simple they were almost like a sucker-play in American football that succeeds because it's too dumb to succeed.

Stewart plonked himself on the goal-line, threw off his marker with a simple dart-and-check, and then pulled off to the dead space on the corner of the six-yard box where Venus obligingly dropped the ball.

The marker on each occasion has to shoulder some blame, and yes, the ball was superbly delivered with swerve and pace. But the six-yard box should be dominated by the goalkeeper like a tyrannical despot.

Stewart could have matched the hat-trick he scored at The Dell last season. He somehow hooked wide from seven yards out after Paul Jones had dropped a Venus cross, although the big Welshman atoned for that error with a quick-reaction touch-over after Stewart was again released on parole at a corner.

Saints' Rip van Winkle impersonation at set pieces dropped a wet blanket on what should have been a night of celebration.

Fired up like the Flying Scotsman by a fiery Scotsman, Saints scorched out of the blocks and zipped into a 2-0 lead inside 20 minutes.

Marian Pahars collected a half-cleared corner, and a little lollipop step-over tricked him past Jamie Clapham to deliver a cross which James Beattie nudged into the net with his head.

It was just the sort of start Strachan would have wanted and on 20 minutes he had the sort of break that Stuart Gray never got at St Mary's.

Just seconds after Stuart muffed Jones' dropped cross to put Ipswich level Saints went down the other end and doubled their money, Beattie this time turning provider as he chased down the ball to whip in an inviting cross Pahars needed no second invitation to bullet home.

Only Sereni's reactions and agility denied Pahars from making it three as he launched himself on to Jo Tessem's cross.

That would have been Goodnight Nurse, but even after Stewart frayed a few nerve ends by making it 2-1 before half-time, Saints restored their two goal cushion just six minutes into the second-half.

Pahars was again the instigator, cutting inside Venus and letting fly with a stinger that Sereni could only parry for Chris Marsden to nod in his first goal since scoring against Blackburn two seasons ago.

But even from the first whistle, Saints always had problems coping with Ipswich's five strung across the middle.

Strachan appeared prepared to barter solidity for width. Ripley's natural instincts forced him to drift wide but his orders were to pinch in, with full-backs Rory Delap and Wayne Bridge given licence to provide the attacking width.

Suspecting that Saints might have teething troubles settling into the new manager's style, Ipswich boss George Burley cleverly slotted the wily Sixto Peralta in the hole spot. And when Stewart and Armstrong and then Naylor prised apart, the Argentinian would ease into the gap to make it effectively three, and Saints never really effectively located him all night.

Saints were certainly up for the task, and roared on by the tigerish Marsden, and backed up by Lundekvam and Tahar El Khalej, who won everything asked of him in the air, they worked and ran their butts off.

But Strachan will now work to improve their minds after seeing two points tossed away with sloppy lapses of concentration.