doots
Well-Known Member
Me pops,owe him big time for it .
No you were definitely there for the good stuffGrowing up in Stockport in the 70s with two older brothers (one city, the other utd) it was a battle between the two to see who could get me on their side. In 1977 my eldest brother took me to see my first game, it was Colin Bells comeback. I only really remember freezing my nads off sat on the Platt Lane benches that day. Over the next few years I was taken along to more and more games.
As a result of the ball ache process of getting cup final tickets in ’81 we decided to get season tickets from 81/82 onwards. This would avoid us needing to piss about cutting out and collecting tokens in programmes to qualify for future cup finals.
Anyway .. to cut a long story short, after many years of glorious football and endless success in early September 2008 (one week after some arab geezer bought the club) I packed up and moved over to Germany to start my new life.
Have I missed much?
Great post mate, thanks for sharing that.I am one of the lucky ones. Very lucky as I could so easily have been a red. My dad was a blue; my eldest brother, who's 6 years older than me, was a red; my other brother who is 3 years older was blue. My dad, who had lived in Gorton and played for Manchester boys in 1938 - I still have his medal for that (when we played football in our back garden, he used to say, jokingly, "I'd have played for City, bar for't war.") - and he used to take my brothers to United one week and City the next.
United had their famous trio of Law, Best, and Charlton, and when he started taking me I was 6 or 7. United were the big attraction back then, post Munich in 1965/6, and I was torn even in those ealy days by one brother saying how rubbish City were, and what was the point of supporting them, and my Dad and other brother, trying to get me to support City.
Then, one fateful day, we were coming back from City on the 169 bus to Burnage and before getting off at Fog Lane, my brother was asking me who I was going to support, and who was my favourite player today. I said the tall guy with the blond hair who was playing on the right (near me in the "Kippax Street" stand) in the second half. He told me that was Colin Bell, and he was great; better than any of United's lot. Then he asked something like, "Why don't you support City from now on then, like me and my dad?" And I replied that I would. And I did. I always have done since, and, despite the 4 decades of rubbish that intervened between 1968 and 2012, I am eternally grateful for my Dad and brother putting me on the path of righteousness - for, as the bible said, I have inherited an equivalent to the Kingdom of Heaven.
I can't say what the particular game was which was the turning point, or realisation for me, but it was in 1965/66 I believe and Bell and Mike Summerbee were there, along with the core of the 1968 Championship winning team. Managers, Joe Mercer and Malcolm Allison, were acquiring their legendary status, and I was very privileged to see the great team they built.
I was privileged to see our collapse almost into oblivion. Privileged to see us rising like a phoenix from the ashes to become the most powerful team of recent times. Privileged indeed to live alongside many, many of our great City supporting community, who would do anything for each other, and who've survived the harsh times, while our nearest rivals gloated - as we stumbled and went through thinner and thinner times - but now we lap it all up, as we watch the cream of the crop.
This morning, I'm watching the Queen being buried and many strong emotions are being churned, and memories being triggered. I've lived not far short of her reign on the throne. We've got back to the head of the table in her time, and I honestly never thought I'd live to see that.
I'm privileged, indeed and I trust that my Dad's enjoying the view from his heavenly grandstand.