It was Easter Monday, 2nd April 1945. My friends were all with their families; I, a 13 year old only child, found myself at a loose end so decided to get an all day bus ticket on the number 50 departing from Sale. Football was certainly not on my mind. Sale was a rugby union stronghold and soccer, as it was contemptuously called at my school, was a dirty word. My parents, neighbours and friends had no interest in the game so City, United, etc. were just words on the sports pages of the Manchester Evening News.

I carried an A to Z of Manchester to identify the buildings that I passed and my habit was to get off and investigate anything that I thought to be of interest. Travelling along Princess Parkway and approaching Moss Side I noticed masses of people arriving and converging to a point before disappearing between the buildings. “This is exciting”, I thought, “better find out what is going on”. I alighted and was immediately accosted by a seller beating off his competitors for my one (old) penny programme which screamed, from its editorial front page, “Stockport’s Advantage”. Yes indeed, a football match featuring Manchester City v Stockport County with, apparently, a number of key players not available. The prediction was correct; City lost 1 – 5!

Following the throng, I passed sights long since gone. Some were tragic, ex professional footballers with placards around their necks detailing their clubs and histories begging for a few coppers, others more pleasant with traders selling rosettes and souvenirs from their barrows. There was no segregation with all supporters intermingling and approaching the ground together. Then I saw it standing before me, Maine Road! Never had I seen anything so big The grandstand towered above me, I entered through the turnstile an took the steps to the very top and the stadium opened up before me. I can still feel the awe that I expeienced that day; If this is football I want to be part of it!

As for the match itself, all I can remember is my first idol – Frank Swift. A charismatic showman who enchanted all. City may have seen better goalkeepers but none had the charm of big Frank. He was particularly loved by the kids and in those days, when keepers stayed on their line, he kept up a constant chatter with the boys behind his goal who would arrive 3 hours early to ensure their spot.

Now, 63 seasons later, I am enjoying my football more than ever. I have experienced good times and bad but there is nothing that beats being a City fan. I often think back to this eventful day that started me on this long journey and, bearing in mind that United shared the ground, I give thanks that it was City playing on this eventful day otherwise, horrors of horrors – I might have ended up a red!