I’ll always remember this game as the first time I fell in love with Manchester City at the age of 11.

I was mesmerised by the ramshackled homeliness of Maine Road, of the rattle of Big Helen Turner’s bell and of my dads infectious enthusiasm, but nothing could prepare me for the comical situation City found themselves in when Tony Coton brought down the ever dangerous Dean Saunders and saw red. Without a sub keeper, Quinny had to go in goal. He couldnt look less like a goalkeeper – and his face was a picture! The Quinn snarl we called it!

He’d already scored in the game and now he was donning the gloves. We’d be lucky to get a draw now I thought.

Nope…none of it. Like the legend he was the great man flung himself to his left and saved the penalty like he was Dino Zoff!

The game had everything, emotion, ecstacy and the prevailing feeling of ‘we’ve blown it’ only for City to make us feel stupid for ever doubting them. We went on to win 2.1, despite Quinny blundering a late cross to let Mick Harford pull one back and ensure the final ten minutes were the customary nail biting panic stricken purgatory!

These moments of insanity, of desperate measures and of ultimate joy in the face of despair are what being a City fan is all about. And on that day, for me, there was no looking back.

….The seeds were well and truly sewn!