When I was a young lad my mum would talk about man city. Her n my grandad had been season ticket holders for years. Shed tell about about franny lee her hero. Showed me all her hundreds of programmes shed saved from every game, games you didnt see at that time like plymouth from the 70's. Showed me pics of her in full city gear, jacket hat scarf all the badges she collected. Her passion for this team made me proud to be a city fan. I was only a little boy but I loved how much this meant to her. City meant more to me than just a team.
She didnt even have anything red in the house. Said we hate utd. If id of supported them shed probably of phoned social and had me put into care which would of been great parenting tbf.
Then I went to school and all these other lads are telling me city are shit, shitty city, city arent a good team. How could they? That's my mums team she loves them and she told me they were great? Was like someone saying father christmas is a ****. It hurt.
Few years on and ive got songs about a fat peter reid. These ****s are winning everything. The relentess goading. You werent just calling city you were calling my mum and eveything she loved and had brought me up to love. You were calling my family and I fucking hated them for it. Hate is the word.
Got into fights with friends and family over it through the years. Always hurt. Hate. The hate. Always there.
So now I savour every single moment. Sometimes I think the hate has gone. Because theyre so fucking pathetic it's not as easy to hate them. They're not a threat anymore. Theyre some abusive step dad whos old as fuck and whimpers when you walk past him. But I still hate them. And I savour all of this. I love it. I live for it. West Ham 3 utd 1. Makes my fucking dick hard.
Never ever stop hating these ****s. Ever.
