First started watching City away properly in ‘86. Then went to Portsmouth Polytechnic and saw us win fuck all away in my first year. QPR on the plastic, drew 1-1 at Southampton, Graham Baker header, West Ham relegated 0-2. Went to loads next season Hull 0-1 opening day, Shrewsbury 0-0, thinking I’d never see us win away. Was on Pompey Pier in the Albert night club when I rang home to see how we’d got on against Wolves, me dad answered about midnight and bleary eyed told me we’d won 2-0 to win 3-2 on aggregate. Going berserk in the phone box. Loved those days. Especially midweek of not having a clue how we’d got on. No internet, ringing home. Trudging back utterly deflated. Spent the next year in France / Germany, opening a box on my 21st birthday in Pau in the Pyrenees and my mum and fad had sent me the maroon striped away kit plus The Complete Manchester City Record Book by Ray Goble. And a packet of mint Matchstick chocolates. Listening to Paddy Feaney world service hoping and praying for an update on city. Only getting half times and full times. Kicking hole in the door when we were 2-0 down away at Oxford in ‘88 going for promotion then nearly tearing the thing off its hinges hearing we’d won 4-2.
Great days.