When living abroad in Manchester for one year, I went to quite a lot of City matches. The very first game I went to with my girlfriend was City V Everton on October 2nd, 2005. We went by bicycle (how typically Dutch) and saw the Blues winning by 2-0. We immediately fell in love with the club, its supporters and the stadium! Three years later and back in the Netherlands, we still follow City as much as we can!

I’m from Salford where everyone is a red. But my dad was more interested in beer than football. I’d been to Old Trafford a couple of times with my uncle, but as an eleven year old I was desperate to go to football games.

I had a mate called Jeff Honey whose dad Harry was a lifelong City fan, and one week he asked me if I wanted to go to see the Blues play Sheffield Wednesday. I wasn’t sure. City fans in Salford were few and far between, but eventually I said yes. My mum only let me go because I said Harry was taking us and that there was a gang of us going. Part of the excitement was catching three buses, the last one being the famous 53X. Harry led our motley rag bag of ten and eleven year olds to the ground and then stopped off at one of the back street pubs near the ground. Jeff knew the way, but when we arrived at the Kippax there was a vast crowd milling around outside. I’d been so caught up in the excitement of actually going to a game that I hadn’t really noticed the fog.

It was only about twenty minutes before kick off that the game got the go ahead, by which time the queues to get in were massive, snaking back through the streets. I just followed the other lads through the throng of bodies. We were jostled, shoved and trod on but it all added to an unforgettable experience.

As kick off approached the queues surged and police horses came in to try to keep order. I was about three kids from the turnstile when a policehorse’s head came down hard on top of mine. I hadn’t a clue what was going on after that. My mates somehow shoved me through the turnstile into the ground and we made our way up the huge flight of stairs at the back of the Kippax. Being kids we had to worm our way through all the adults, dodging in and out of the legs as we made our way to one of the big white tunnels that punctuated the stand. This was Harry’s favourite spot. He arrived five minutes after kick off. I thought it was because of the fog, but I later found out this was Harry’s routine and he often missed early goals.

I can’t remember much about the match, mainly because it was difficult to see anything through the fog. Of course City being City, they contrived to lose 1-0 to Wednesday even with the great side they had at the time. But as an eleven year old I thought the whole day was a fantastic adventure. I daren’t tell my mum about the crush of the crowds, or getting hit by the police horse, or that Harry went back in the pub after and we made our own way home or it would have been my last game.

A fortnight later Jeff asked if I fancied going again. I still wasn’t too sure because that would have been tantamount to admitting I was a City fan. But I went, and the great side beat Burnley 7-0. In the next game we beat West Brom 5-1. And the Blues have had me ever since. We went on to win the cup of course that year which unbelievably is the last time we did win it. When people ask me how I became a City fan I always tell them it was all down to Harry Honey. They say you never forget your first time.

My first game was Colin Bell’s comeback game v Newcastle. He came on at half time when the score was nil nil. City went on to batter the Toon. My Dad took me and we had seats in the maine stand and as a 7 year old i will always remember the sight of the pitch, how green and big it was plus the big crowd. What made it better also was the floodlights being used, games under floodlights are magical to a young lad.

My first game was man city vs crewe at maine road we won 3-2 that day great experience

A memorable day for all city fans which grasped the hearts of everyone present at the old Wembley stadium. I was 12 years old with my uncle K*ob Head and we were on our way out of the stadium as Gilingham scored their second goal….. that was until Kevin Horlock scored what seemed to be a consolation…..surely we couldnt pull this back with the 2 minutes of time remaining???

OOOOOOOOHHHH YESSSSS, YOU BEAUTYYYYY as my uncle fell down the stairs after jumping in delight! Paul dickov to the rescue!!!

The scene was set for a wonderful penalty shootout and citys saviour Nicky Weaver ran a short marathon before being mauled by his jubilant team mates!!!!

I know we havent won much for a while but ur always sure City will bring a bit of excitement into your life!!

CITY TILL I DIE!!

City v Everton.
Platt Lane Joe Royle runs into Joe Corrigan, Royle is left spralling on the floor . Bell , Lee , Sumerbee all play. So this is city!!! My City then now and till I die .

my first game was a midweek away derby in march 1978.the weather was awful ,i can still see the sleet in the floodlights coming down vertically,and joe corrigan in front of us looking as though he just wanted to go home .watch yourselves on the way home he shouted to us. 0.2 down with 5 minutes left, my dad said lets go. By the time we made it to the tunnel, barnes and kidd had banged two goals in .those reds outside just looked at us in shock.

City 4 Spurs 1 (Saturday 9th December 1967) The Ballet on Ice.

I was 12 years old and my Dad had been going on at me for ages to go with him and watch City. I remember that my first game was on a bitter cold day and my Dad was convinced that the game would be called off. Miraculously (or maybe it was something to do with the fact that the game was on Match of the Day later that night) the ref passed the pitch as playable and we took up our position in the old Scoreboard End. It was freezing cold, light snow was falling and the pitch was rock hard. City went a goal down early on when, following a Spurs free-kick, the ball fell to the feet of Jimmy Greaves. Jimmy rarely missed from the six yard box. I was beginning to think that sitting at home by the coal fire watching Grandstand suddenly looked at much more attractive proposition. What followed was, to this day, one of the finest exhibitions of football I have ever seen.

City, seemingly wearing “football crampons” on their feet tore Spurs to pieces. As the Spurs players slipped, slid and constantly chased shadows, Colin Bell equalised in the first half and second half goals from Mike Summerbee, Tony Coleman and Neil Young completed the rout. Suffice to say, no one felt the cold on the way home.

As a favour to a friend, I agreed to tag along to Manchester City v Blackpool which was the first Match in City’s first season in the 3rd tier of English Football. I only vaguely attached myself to the Club at the time so attending was more a chance to watch Football in the sunshine over anything else. City ran out 3-0 winners and I couldn’t think of a reason to not attend again. I’ve never looked back. Anything else happening on top is a bonus as far as I see it.

My first game was a whopper! City v United in 1971, the 3-3 thriller. My dad took me as a treat and we stood on the North Stand. Even though I was too small to see all the action, the atmosphere had me hooked. Sixty-odd thousand people packed into Maine Road and spent a breathless ninety minutes singing, chanting, praising, ranting; experiencing the height of delight and the pit of despair as the lead changed over and over.

The goals rained in, the fans partied, the players gave their all, Franny Lee famously demonstrated to the ref what he thought of George Best’s antics and one little boy, deliciously scared by it all, became a City fan that day and you know what they say: “Once a Blue, always a Blue.”