Frankly we’re all Bert’s.You wouldn't even get names like Frank and Bert these days, never mind their characters which, unfortunately, are long gone
The woolly jumper must have weighed a ton in the rainAnd a trend setter in his distressed trousers!!
I was called Bertie for a whileYou wouldn't even get names like Frank and Bert these days, never mind their characters which, unfortunately, are long gone
A proper suit too.
No bum freezer jackets and leggings for trousers then!
I’d rather look like that in a suit than the trend for a two sizes to small look of the sort Sunak favours.Swiftly looks like either an east end gangster or the head of an Italian crime family.
Always makes me laugh when the clowns say we have no history. This one photo alone shows how utterly clueless and ignorant they are. Absolute legends of the game but loads of so called football fans wouldn't even know who they are.
I’d rather look like that in a suit than the trend for a two sizes to small look of the sort Sunak favours.
Hervé Villechaize likes this post.And not a single tattoo.
I was.A different fucking class all round ..would loved to have been around in that era
Magical..I get it, its wonderful to the see the blues successful again but I'd swap it for watching city at maine Road again in the 90s..win lose or draw the match day was magicalI was.
When I look back, I can't believe how different everything was. And I mean everything. Totally.
Perhapd it is because I was a small boy and the whole thing was an obsession with me. I couldn't wait for Saturday afternoons and when they arrived I was transported into a wonderworld. I can't recreate that magical feeling now, despite the marvellous stuff that City play.
To adapt Worfsworth.....
"There was a time when going to watchthe Blues
To me did seem
Appareled in celestial lght....
The glory and the freshness of a dream."
Ah well. That's the way of the world. Gone but fondly remembered.
Eheu fugaces labuntur anni, said Horace the Roman poet.
I must stop now. I'm getting maudlin.