Danish Blue
Well-Known Member
When I was a young lad I befriended a boy in my first year of primary school. I came from a non football family, however a family friend had taken me to see Burnley play a few times. He was a mad City fan, we argued a few times and then we went to see both play, City won my heart and ever since we were partners in crime. We would skip the bus fair and then wait till a few minutes after kick off, after which 50 pence would allow us to scramble under the turnstiles on the Kippax.
After dusting ourselves down we would run up the steps only to see nothing but a heaving mass of bodies, "Head to the Platt lane end I'll see you by the away fans", was the shout. Smelling slightly of discarded fast food and the overpowering smell of piss which seemed to have infiltrated every nook and cranny of the stand. City were outstandingly average but we wouldn't have missed it for the world. Wearing Fila tracksuit tops, in his case, and salmon and sage pringle in mine we loved every minute, it was our time.
A few years later I ,somewhat fortuitously, passed my driving test, which meant away games were on the menu. My mother had a brand new, bottom of the range, mini metro. More importantly she worked at a local hair salon on a Saturday, a plot was hatched. I would walk in to the salon early and ask if I could borrow the car to run an errand. Next thing we would be four up in a Metro trying to do 90 on the way to Barnsley. We would always try and get there early and pick a posh hotel bar to avoid a kicking, with differing results. Barnsley went gloriously wrong as the Barnsley when the local NF came in and immediately spotted us as "outsiders", maybe the lack of a sixth finger did it. Luckily the football special arrived and they seemed more interested in a chat with Mr Francis, so we survived.
I went to college in London then moved abroad, Denmark, Norway, Switzerland and the South Africa. All this time he kept going and was the most loyal blue. Every time I returned he had tickets for me and i saw all the big games live thanks to him. We went all over Europe and he sorted everything out. In his career in property he arranged the building of several houses for City players. He then started taking my boys to City when I wasn't there, recently he taught my youngest how to blag first class on the way to Piccadilly and bought him his first beer in Mother Macks.
On Monday he passed away at the age of 52 years and 3 days. He was most definitely CTID.
I feel very down about it and this was the only place I could think of sharing anonymously before its made public.
Sorry to burden.
After dusting ourselves down we would run up the steps only to see nothing but a heaving mass of bodies, "Head to the Platt lane end I'll see you by the away fans", was the shout. Smelling slightly of discarded fast food and the overpowering smell of piss which seemed to have infiltrated every nook and cranny of the stand. City were outstandingly average but we wouldn't have missed it for the world. Wearing Fila tracksuit tops, in his case, and salmon and sage pringle in mine we loved every minute, it was our time.
A few years later I ,somewhat fortuitously, passed my driving test, which meant away games were on the menu. My mother had a brand new, bottom of the range, mini metro. More importantly she worked at a local hair salon on a Saturday, a plot was hatched. I would walk in to the salon early and ask if I could borrow the car to run an errand. Next thing we would be four up in a Metro trying to do 90 on the way to Barnsley. We would always try and get there early and pick a posh hotel bar to avoid a kicking, with differing results. Barnsley went gloriously wrong as the Barnsley when the local NF came in and immediately spotted us as "outsiders", maybe the lack of a sixth finger did it. Luckily the football special arrived and they seemed more interested in a chat with Mr Francis, so we survived.
I went to college in London then moved abroad, Denmark, Norway, Switzerland and the South Africa. All this time he kept going and was the most loyal blue. Every time I returned he had tickets for me and i saw all the big games live thanks to him. We went all over Europe and he sorted everything out. In his career in property he arranged the building of several houses for City players. He then started taking my boys to City when I wasn't there, recently he taught my youngest how to blag first class on the way to Piccadilly and bought him his first beer in Mother Macks.
On Monday he passed away at the age of 52 years and 3 days. He was most definitely CTID.
I feel very down about it and this was the only place I could think of sharing anonymously before its made public.
Sorry to burden.