My dad took me to my first match on 14th April 1956. We played Burnley and lost 3-1. Even so, I was smitten at the age of 11 and have been a blue ever since. If I remember rightly, my forever hero, Bert Trautmann received his Footballer of the Year award at that match.

Believe it or not, my first game wasn’t at Maine Road. I’d been taken to Old Trafford by my dad to see United play Birmingham and can still remember the distinct lack of atmosphere within the ground, i didn’t ask to go and see them again. The next season, my dad took me to Maine Road to watch City, i still had no particular allegiance to any one team, i was 8 years old.

It was 26th September 1981, City were playing Spurs. As i type these words, i can vividly recall how unbelievably excited i was as i walked up to the ground, the buzz of the crowd, the push and shove, rickety old turnstiles, the old boys selling programmes, pies and hot bovril and me and my dad. As we sat down in the main stand i turned to my dad and asked him if we could come again, his response still amuses me now…”the game’s not started yet son, wait til you’ve seen the whole game”.

I knew i didn’t need to wait for anything, this was my club, my home, my love and still is. I’m 36 now, it’s been one hell of a ride but i’m still thankful to my dad for taking me to Maine Road that day. Incidentally, the score was 0 – 1 to Spurs.

My first man city game was when i was aged seven and it was against Northampton. I can remember being in the Kippax and because we was that high up i felt sick!!

The game was a 0-0 and i think it was michael brown who was closest to scoring but his long range shot ws well saved!!

Also in that season i managed to get Wembley tickets and went to watch the mighty blues beat Gillingham on penalties!!!!!

The first game I can remember being at was Rodney Marsh’s debut in March 1972. Rodney was a big money signing and, a bit like Robinho, it generated a lot of excitement. I was only 4 but this was a very important moment in my early life and probably the moment that guaranteed my life support for City.

I was sat in the old Platt Lane Stand and remember vividly the noise and colour generated when Marsh appeared. The Platt Lane Stand was very dark and dull, but the pitch was perfect green and the players wore that powerful classic, stylish sky blue with white shorts. We were the audience and Maine Road was their stage.

Marsh posed for photographs with the Platt Lane Stand behind him and every time I’ve seen these photos since I’ve frantically searched them looking for anyone in the stand who could be me or my dad, but the crowd are just blobs in the stand.

Rodney became my first true hero. Not because he was a great player but because, legend had it at the time, he refused to wear socks (off the pitch of course!)! Why this appealed I have no idea, but it did. Perhaps it had something to do with the glamour. City were always ’soccer stars’ back then and glamour oozed out of the team.

Bell, Lee and Summerbee were the better players for City but Rodney was my star then. He was my first hero, but he definitely was not my last.

I had been a few times with my dad when I was really young, but the earliest memory was a game that I listened to on the radio with the Maine Road flooodlights lighting up my bedroom. The chants and cheers of the fans as a 4-0 second leg semi-final win against Middlesbrough on 21st Jan 1976. Goose bumps as the commentator announced Wembley here we come. This was the moment that made me save every penny to sit outside and wait for the turnstiles open at every home game.

My earliest memory of a City game is the 1964 farewell to Bert Trautman. This game came at a time when the team were struggling and yet over 60 000 turned out to say goodbye. I had been to other matches but this one sticks in my memory. A night match with the contrasting colours of turf, sky and floodlights it was unforgettable. My clearest memory is the massive pitch invasion at the end of the match. I and many others ran onto the turf just to get the most out of the evening. I clearly recall quite a few hanging from Bert’s goalposts attempting to break the bar and carry it off as a souvenir. Happy days.

My first game was at Maine Road against Wolves in December 1974 aged 13. As I walked around the front of the ground with my school mate, for the junior entrance to the kippax and looking slightly lost, we were stopped by a steward and given complimentary tickets for the front row of the North Stand. The game ended 0-0 but I got to see my heroes close up and could hear every word they shouted at each other. An unforgettable day, all because of a kind steward who spotted two “lost souls” and gave a helping hand!

I remember my Uncle Eric (rip) bringing me to City at home to Stoke City in 1987 against my father’s wishes (he’s a red). He bought be a Big Banana (still got it) and I sat on his shoulders and cheered the Blues on to a 3-1 win. I was only five at the time and haven’t looked back since.

I left Manchester at 24:00 midnight from Manchester by coach (Ginners) to go to Portsmouth away in 1963. we drew 1 – 1 after the game we all went out to a wrestling event at the Portsmouth Town Hall. Our volunteer Billy, went on stage and beat the pro Wrestler. Since then I have always been a blue CTID

I was seven years old, to be honest all i remember was being in a massive queue of juniors in the platt lane, waiting with my 25pence in my clenched fist.And having to wait for my dad dave when I got in, because the adult queue was even bigger. I remember kidd scored 4 and standing on my seat to see, when everyone stood.32 years and im still here…