My first city game as a young 16 year old who had come across from Belfast.

Belfast was at the height of the troubles and to come over to England was like a holiday for me.

After travelling across on the Liverpool ferry all night then a train up to Manchester the excitement and joy of seeing Maine Road for the first time in real live was amazing.

i stood on the famous Kippax and then to see my hero the graet Colin Bell score was something else. i will never forget that day as also a fellow Northern Ireland man spoiled it for me when he scored against us – Brian Hamilton.

Having grown up in Belfast in the shadow of Man utd and Liverpool fans i still made the right decision and was a blue at last. 33 years on and still coming over to see the blues the rollercoast still continues and i would not change it for the world. Thank You City
CTID Johnny

My first City game was with my Dad in November 75.

We got tickets last minute and it was the league Cup semi at Maine Road. I was 7 and had never experienced anything like the thrill of climbing the stairs in H block in the Maine stand and coming out to see the pitch lit with the floodlights on.

We won 4-0, but Colin Bell got tackled by Buchan and the rest is history.
I was already a blue, but my first game made it complete. I live in the USA now and still make at least two games a season.

I think it was 1973. (aged 11) Anyhow it was City 4 Wolves 3, and my main memory was the bloke in the seat behind me coninually referring to Joe Royle as a ‘pudding’ and being told off by his son……well a winning start…a great day

My first memory of seeing City was a trip to Maine Road in 1976, at the tender age of nine. Being a fourth generation city fan, who had moved to West Bromwich with my family some four years earlier, it seemed only fitting that my first game watching the Blues was against the team most of my friends supported. My father and I, along with a couple of his work-mate West Brom fans travelled up the M6 collecting my Grandfather in Manchester.

It didn’t seem long before we were weaving through the alley’s around Maine Road arriving at the main stand and entering the stadium. My first view of the stadium and the immaculate pitch is still vivid as it was on that that fine but chilly day.

As the stadium filled, my excitement built to kick off. To see my hero’s Joe Corrigan, Dave Watson, Peter Barnes and Dennis Tueart, for the first time was incredible. I clearly remember the left wing play and passing between Barnes and Tueart that resulted in the only goal of the game.

A great goal to cap off a great day, and to make my second City game and first away game a few months later at the Hawthorns to see City win 2-0 and go on to finish second in the old Division One only 1 point behind Liverpool still stays with me some 32 years later.

My father and I have made that same trip up the M6 many hundreds of times since, but now I take him.

When City is bred into you it stays with you.

This was a tense & enthralling affair between two of the top four teams in the country. For me though, the game or the fact that whoever won it would go to the top of the league was not the only reason that made this such a memorable day.

This was also to be my very first time on the Kippax. I was young & impressionable & i remember being just as excited about the prospect of standing among who i thought at the time were the REAL City fans ‘The Guvnors’ as i was in the game itself..

For a young lad the experience was exhilarating. There was understandably a massive crowd on the day & the unique atmosphere created on the famous terraces was apparent as soon as we arrived. I remember the steep steps at the back of the old stand & as we ran up them to take our place, i was thrilled to hear the famous ‘Kippax Choir’ in full voice. I also remember that the amount of fans contained within the ground that day was an awome sight.

The Kippax at the time was famed for it’s immense crowd surges & sways as the game progressed. This was very noticable to me throughout the game.. But when ‘Big Joe Royle’ popped up to bag the winner, i thought i was going to be carried all the way to the front..(An amazing if somewhat frightning experience)

After that marvellous day & from then on, most of my best Maine Road moments were enjoyed from the famous old terracing.

Grand National day 1972 and it rained all day long. City at home to West Ham – not only would I see Lee, Bell, Summerbee and co but also Bobby Moore and Clyde Best.

Saw the floodlight pylon as we turned past Maine Road and realised this was it: the Blues were no longer the mythical figures I saw on the TV and in Shoot! and the papers. We walked across the forecourt and through the Platt Lane turnstiles.

I bought a rosette (remember them?) from a seller on the way in and we ran down the corner tunnel. It felt a bit like going to the cinema – and of course as at the flicks the good guys will always win, right? – but then the green pitch emerged as we reached the end. Couldn’t believe the size of the place or the noise from the still-terraced North Stand.

City won 3-1 with Rodney Marsh scoring twice and (I think) Colin Bell the other – two of the Blues’ goals were in the second half when they attacked our end so it was even better. Went home happy and watched it all over again on Match of the Day that night, what could be a better introduction to attending games?

North Stand swathed in hot dog smoke, the tiny turnstile entrance, the smell of the programme, the steps up and up and then that bright light and the perfect patch of summer grass, as green as you like. Nothing prepares you for that view the first time. You stand there like a rabbit in the headlight, wondering at the symmetry and beauty (or in Maine Road’s case asymmetry and beauty). What a sight. It almost didn’t need any football, any Dennis Tueart penalties or Willie Young fouls (which we got as a bonus that day). It was plenty good enough just as it was. 30 years on, that first sight inside the hallowed ground is as sharp a memory as any. A truly life-defining moment, a sensation we have all shared and never replicated, but we keep coming back for more. Next it will be these two: how do I put into words what they will feel as that view opens up, that smells hits the nostrils and the noise wafts over you? They will have to see for themselves, liek the rest of us!

My first game was the final match of the 1972-73 season v Crystal Palace – It was just short of my 9th birthday so I wasn’t fully aware of the significance of ‘Big Mal’s’ return. He had just taken over as coach of Palace, but couldn’t stop them from being relegated. My most abiding memory of the day is of walking into the Kippax through the long tunnel at the halfway line and thinking I was walking onto the pitch. I had honestly never seen grass so green in all my life, in fact, to this day I still get a thrill when I see the green of the City pitch.

I had gone with a friend of my older brother’s and a few of his mates and we squeezed to the front of the Kippax – I think there were about 45,000 at Maine Rd that day. The players came and kicked balls into the crowd before the start and I remember there being a mini pitch invasion after every goal, then a huge one at the end of the match – this wasn’t unusual for the last game of the season.

City scored first with a Franny Lee penalty, then went on to lose 3-2. Typical, you might say.

When I was 11 my dad was going to the League Cup Final with a friend from work, he had to drop out so he took me instead. I had always liked City but never been to a football match never mind Wembley. I can remember the journey down, seemed to take forever and the sheer numbers of fans all waving blue scarves. It was frightened of getting lost so I stuck close with him. We were sat in the South stand near the back but high up with a good view, the atmosphere was incedible, the noise and then we scored, Peter Barnes. But this was short lived as Newcastle equalised and I remember everyone around moods changed to that of apprehension. Nervous times followed until that Dennis Tueart overhead kick, everyone stood up and being small I only just saw it but missed the celebration and nearly got crushed in the melee! The best bit was the presentation and the journey home, I became a Man City fan forever.

My first match was at the ripe old age of 12. I was born and lived in Guildford although my Dad was born in Salford and like my Grandad was blue through and through. The City gene was passed down to me and I felt 10ft tall when my Dad, Mum, Grandad and Grandma visited our relatives in Manchester and I was taken to see City beat Bristol City 2-1. What made it so memorable was the fact that it was the only game that I ever went to with both my Dad and Grandad as sadly my Grandad never made it back up to Manchester again to see his beloved Blues.