Three of us in the Stoke end that day and somehow never got sussed.
Blues were everywhere, about five minutes in, what I can only describe as a Mexican wave of brawling swept around the entire stadium and continued throughout the game as more and more City fans had to fight their corner.
Fucked off with a couple. of minutes left, knowing we were down, and had my forehead split open from hairline to eyebrow by a lump of concrete as blues and Stokies fought on the bridge. Five hours at the North Staffs Royal being stitched and scanned for head injuries, my face a mask of blood, and all I could think was 'how fucking low are City going to go?'