ccr
Well-Known Member
Flicking through a magazine in Gestapo headquarters, or the dentists to you and me. I stumbled upon this................
When I was growing up, my mum would ask: "You'll stick with them, will you ?" She meant Manchester City. Always after City had lost, which in those days was often. I did stick with them, as Mum knew I would, because that's the deal with football teams. I think she just liked the Idea that her son had grasped the concept of loyalty. Butthere were moments when I looked at my two brothers (Liverpool fans) and some of myless imaginative friends (Manchester United) and wondered what had possessed me . Shouldn't the road less travelled contain fewer potholes ?
While most football fans merely suspectthat Sod's law was conceived with their team in mind, City fans knew it. I cite in evidence my solitary lapse in more than 30 years of blind faith. With minutes to go in the 1999 play-off final at Wembley. City were 2-0 down to Gillingham. The winners would be promoted to the giddy heights of English football's second tier. The losers, well- did you ever pop into Oldham around the turn of the millenium ? It was more than I could bear. I changed channels.
Half an hour later, I switched back to wallow in the post-mortem. Somehow the game was still going on: City had scored twice, forcing extra-time, and they went on to win on penalties. I still feel guilty. But that was the point: when I tuned in, they invariably stuffed it up; on the rare occasions I didn't, they'd get promoted. It was Sod in excelsis.
I know what you're thinking. Is this the same Manchester City who are currently enjoying the beneficence of Abu Dhabi billionaires ? To which I say: details,details. City and I go back far to long to be separated by sweet -talking magnate- to the early 1980's, in fact, when I first collected football stickers. I never did complete the sticker book, but City came closest to a full set and there was something beguiling about Paul Powers ginger moustache. In 1981 they reached the FA cup final against Spurs. Even for a six-year-old growing up several miles away in Oxford, this was heady stuff.
They lost ,naturally, conceding a goal to Ricky Villa that is still legendary today. I cried. But a template had already been set. Villa's famous slalom came in the replay. In the first game Tommy Hutchison had given City the lead before redressing the balance with an own-goal. Very City.
Loming throughout were Man United, who somehow turned City-like underachievement into world domination. This wasn't entirely helpful, especially when foreign friends called United "Manchester". I tried in vain- and, given my roots, a touch hypocritically- to tell them that proper Mancunians supported City. They nodded.
There was only one thing for it. City's haplessness would have to become a badge of honour. So what if United won everything ? We had unpredictability !
It was a logic that made rare triumphs all the seeter. Bliss it was to be alive the day thumped United 5-1 at Maine Road in 1989-1990. And when, a mere 18 years later, Sven Goran Eriksson steered them to their first pair of league victories over United in one season since 1970, it was almost impossible to forget that the club had sold it's soul to Thaksin Shinawatra, the exiled prime minister of Thailand and no poster boy at Amnesty International.
Now, almost overnight, those goalposts- the ones which other teams habitually rattled- have shifted. In 2008 City got a new owner, Sheikh Mansour, and his cash lifted them from mid-table mediocrity to challengers for a place in the Premier League's top four ,with it's promice ofEuropean football. In 2010-12 they were top at christmas for the first time in82 years, and stayed there until mid-march, when United (who else?) inched past them.
Last season City played grim football in the image of their pragmatic manager Roberto Mancini. But now the iron defence comes with some creativity up front. David Silva (£24m), a World Cup winner with Spain, spent the first half of the season gliding around as if playing on a billiard table. Mario Balotelli (£23m), an Italian with a nose for trouble, mixes audacious goals with temper-tantrums and antics like setting fire to his own bathroom; this would once have counted as a typical City fiasco, but it is now shrugged off as an amusing eccentricity. The marriage of grit and flair is admired even by detractors who resent City's ultra-capitalism. Their own teams, of course, would never stoop so low.
For years, City harked back to a brief golden age in the late 1960's. Now they are the FA Cup holders and the "noisy neighbours" ,as Alex Ferguson, the United manager, who has seen off 17 City counterparts in 25 years, puts it. When City won 6-1 at Old Trafford in October, the noise was heared around the world.
Do I miss the old day's ? A little. For Christmas, a friend bought me a T-shirt emblazoned with "Goater, Kinkladze and Rosler", three cult hero's from the banana skin day's. City fans are great at retro chic, less sure about future chic. It could still go horribly wrong; they could finish the season without a trophy. But I can assure my Mum that I'll be sticking with them.
If this has been posted before I have just wasted 45 minutes of one finger typing.
When I was growing up, my mum would ask: "You'll stick with them, will you ?" She meant Manchester City. Always after City had lost, which in those days was often. I did stick with them, as Mum knew I would, because that's the deal with football teams. I think she just liked the Idea that her son had grasped the concept of loyalty. Butthere were moments when I looked at my two brothers (Liverpool fans) and some of myless imaginative friends (Manchester United) and wondered what had possessed me . Shouldn't the road less travelled contain fewer potholes ?
While most football fans merely suspectthat Sod's law was conceived with their team in mind, City fans knew it. I cite in evidence my solitary lapse in more than 30 years of blind faith. With minutes to go in the 1999 play-off final at Wembley. City were 2-0 down to Gillingham. The winners would be promoted to the giddy heights of English football's second tier. The losers, well- did you ever pop into Oldham around the turn of the millenium ? It was more than I could bear. I changed channels.
Half an hour later, I switched back to wallow in the post-mortem. Somehow the game was still going on: City had scored twice, forcing extra-time, and they went on to win on penalties. I still feel guilty. But that was the point: when I tuned in, they invariably stuffed it up; on the rare occasions I didn't, they'd get promoted. It was Sod in excelsis.
I know what you're thinking. Is this the same Manchester City who are currently enjoying the beneficence of Abu Dhabi billionaires ? To which I say: details,details. City and I go back far to long to be separated by sweet -talking magnate- to the early 1980's, in fact, when I first collected football stickers. I never did complete the sticker book, but City came closest to a full set and there was something beguiling about Paul Powers ginger moustache. In 1981 they reached the FA cup final against Spurs. Even for a six-year-old growing up several miles away in Oxford, this was heady stuff.
They lost ,naturally, conceding a goal to Ricky Villa that is still legendary today. I cried. But a template had already been set. Villa's famous slalom came in the replay. In the first game Tommy Hutchison had given City the lead before redressing the balance with an own-goal. Very City.
Loming throughout were Man United, who somehow turned City-like underachievement into world domination. This wasn't entirely helpful, especially when foreign friends called United "Manchester". I tried in vain- and, given my roots, a touch hypocritically- to tell them that proper Mancunians supported City. They nodded.
There was only one thing for it. City's haplessness would have to become a badge of honour. So what if United won everything ? We had unpredictability !
It was a logic that made rare triumphs all the seeter. Bliss it was to be alive the day thumped United 5-1 at Maine Road in 1989-1990. And when, a mere 18 years later, Sven Goran Eriksson steered them to their first pair of league victories over United in one season since 1970, it was almost impossible to forget that the club had sold it's soul to Thaksin Shinawatra, the exiled prime minister of Thailand and no poster boy at Amnesty International.
Now, almost overnight, those goalposts- the ones which other teams habitually rattled- have shifted. In 2008 City got a new owner, Sheikh Mansour, and his cash lifted them from mid-table mediocrity to challengers for a place in the Premier League's top four ,with it's promice ofEuropean football. In 2010-12 they were top at christmas for the first time in82 years, and stayed there until mid-march, when United (who else?) inched past them.
Last season City played grim football in the image of their pragmatic manager Roberto Mancini. But now the iron defence comes with some creativity up front. David Silva (£24m), a World Cup winner with Spain, spent the first half of the season gliding around as if playing on a billiard table. Mario Balotelli (£23m), an Italian with a nose for trouble, mixes audacious goals with temper-tantrums and antics like setting fire to his own bathroom; this would once have counted as a typical City fiasco, but it is now shrugged off as an amusing eccentricity. The marriage of grit and flair is admired even by detractors who resent City's ultra-capitalism. Their own teams, of course, would never stoop so low.
For years, City harked back to a brief golden age in the late 1960's. Now they are the FA Cup holders and the "noisy neighbours" ,as Alex Ferguson, the United manager, who has seen off 17 City counterparts in 25 years, puts it. When City won 6-1 at Old Trafford in October, the noise was heared around the world.
Do I miss the old day's ? A little. For Christmas, a friend bought me a T-shirt emblazoned with "Goater, Kinkladze and Rosler", three cult hero's from the banana skin day's. City fans are great at retro chic, less sure about future chic. It could still go horribly wrong; they could finish the season without a trophy. But I can assure my Mum that I'll be sticking with them.
If this has been posted before I have just wasted 45 minutes of one finger typing.
