I like to think of myself as a huge City fan. My dad and I have followed City for years everywhere, from Bournemouth to Belgium. But when I think of my first game I am sad to say I cannot remember it.
When I think of the early days of supporting City I just have flash backs to certain memories and feelings. I started watching City in the early to mid eighties. City were in the old second division.

One of the earliest memories I have is beating Charlton 5-1 to gain promotion back to division one. I remember being sat in the Platt Lane Stand with the long wooden benches.

If I close my eyes now I can go back there.

I can see the front of the Platt lane over flowing with people, I had been to see City before but never had I seen the ground so full or noisy. As I look to my right I can see the Kippax running the length of the massive green Maine Road pitch the sun beating down creating large shadows across the grass.
I feel the butterflies in my stomach I had that day still now. I remember Paul Simpson celebrating one of the City goals in the net in front of Platt Lane. A true blue Simo.

At the end of the game the crowd streamed on to the pitch, my dad and I included. We nicked a bit of the pitch that is still in our back garden today. Sorry Stan! (Gibson)

Little did I know that day what would lie ahead in supporting City, the affect the club would have on my life. Inflatable banana’s, fancy dress, invisible men, 10- 1 wins 8-1 defeats, relegation, promotion, Swales out – Franny in, 14 managers, Kinkladze, grasping defeat from the jaws of victory, division 3, That Dickov goal at Wembley, The fans on the hill at Blackburn, feed the goat, the last derby win at Maine Road, Eastlands, Thai owners, Arab owners, Robinho…The ride continues.