Ian Thompson
Why Blue?
I guess being born into a blue family has something to do with it. Most of my family, particularly my grandfather, father and uncles were all blue to the core (my old man went to the win over Gornik Zabzre in ’70). Also, having a brother who is a City fanatic probably helped, as we all mostly went to matches together. Having said this, I like to think that if they were all Rags I’d still would have seen that being a Blue is infinitely more desirable then anything those media-made Reds have to offer. The old man bought me and our kid a new City strip every Christmas, even in those good old days when you could buy a kit in the knowledge that it would not be out of date the next season (or the current season if you’re a Rag). I don’t envy the parents of junior Rags; in fact I feel sorry for them and it is nothing short of scandalous the way those marketing-hyped Stretfordians have ripped off their own fans (at least City only do it every other season with each strip) in the knowledge that they’ll be bought in (sad) vast quantities. Anyway, to get back to my point, my decision to truly follow City was made in 1976, courtesy of Dennis Tueart’s overhead kick against the Toon at Wembley and Bobby Stokes’ left foot drive for the Saints later that season, also at Wembley.
The first game I can remember attending at the World Footy Academy was against Stoke City the following season, at the impressionable age of 11. The only thing I can remember about the action on the pitch itself was that it was a 0-0 result and that Mike Doyle, our centre half, appeared to be everywhere, making tackle after tackle at the back and seemingly linking up with the midfield for nearly every attack. What created the most impression though was the atmosphere and the attitude of the City fans – I stood towards the back of the right hand side of the Kippax and I could just about see the game, the areas behind the Kippax roof stanchions excepted of course. The attendance was I think, about 39,000, the chanting and cheering seemed incessant and my decision to follow the Blues was thus made firm. My old man still tells me that he took me and our kid to a few games before this, notably in the Bell/Summerbee/Lee/Marsh era, but strangely enough, the Stoke game is the first one I can personally recount. The only league game before the Stoke one I have any memory of was at Gigg Lane, the home of my hometown team Bury FC, for whom I suppose I have a soft spot (nb I did have a flirtation with the auld enemy Rochdale in the 1979-80 season briefly, but the less said about this the better).
Some of the best memories (see later section) of my teenage years were undoubtedly centred around Manchester City FC, and it seems to me impossible not to look back to those couple of seasons I remember most in the late seventies when we were one of the top teams in the country, when teams actually feared to come to Maine Road. We had some great players – Dave Watson, Gary Owen, Joe Corrigan, Dennis Tueart, Willie ‘I score great own goals for Scotland’ Donachie, Asa Hartford, Peter Barnes (anyone remember those nationally retailed Peter Barnes football trainers, the soccer balls on elastic you used to practice close control!), Ged Keegan – ooops! Let’s not get too carried away, even Brian Kidd and Joe Royle, to name but a few. It’s a shame (and I’ll admit it’s often hard not to) that younger City fans’ memories of such players are often obscured by the mediocrity of players such as Stuart Lee, Bobby Shinton, Paul Sugrue, Gordon Davies, Mike Flanagan, David Johnson, Steve ‘the biggest one million pound plus transfer waste of money ever’ Daley who played his best games at Maine Road in the amber Wolves strip, David Cross, etc. No offence intended, they did wear blue shirts, but did we really expect we were going to win anything with these players, who had been good players in lower divisions but who had probably reached their sell-by date a long time before they came to City. However, Gordon Davies did score probably my all-time favourite goal for City against Watford in the cup at Maine Road in, I think, the 85-86 season – a diving header after a good run down the right from Mark Lillis – I think this was the last time a City player had a goal in the Goal of the Month final?).
It would be interesting (or a good laugh) to obtain the definitive list of playing staff since 1975, can anyone provide one? We supporters of MCFC, of whom I count it a privilege to be one, are unique – I can’t think of any other major (or minor, come to think of it) football club whose supporters have had to live for so long in the shadow and success of their so-called ‘illustrious neighbours’ and who have been so loyal for so little in return. I know Everton went quite a few seasons in the doldrums while their neighbours won just about everything in sight, but they too had their turn in the mid and late eighties with league and cup successes. What have we had? Excuse the griping but we have had to be content with being losing Cup-finalists twice (if you count the Full Members’ Cup) and promotion twice (and heaven knows they almost cocked both these up, leaving it too late when we really should have won the titles) in the eighties, and only a couple of reasonable final league placings in the nineties. Yet we’ve always had the nucleus of 20,000 loyal core supporters since those dark days of the early eighties. I can remember attending home games against the likes of Leeds, Newcastle and Everton when the regular chant was ‘you only get 14,000’ and ‘what’s it like to see a crowd’, etc. City fans have been the most loyal and patient in the country, only to be rewarded with, on the whole, mediocre signings, defeat, disappointment and disillusionment. Let’s hope the current regime can do better; we probably can’t do any worse (but don’t forget this is City we are talking about, the team who find it remarkably easy to defeat the teams you expect them not to one Saturday then lose against the really bad teams the next).
Anyway, please forgive this diversion and I’ll get back to ‘Why Blue’. Me and our kid seemed to be the only City fans in our area of Bury (near the old Benson’s toffee factory where the Aldi supermarket now stands). My best mate supported Chelsea of all teams, and all the others were red scouser lovers (this was during their purple patch of late 70’s), some switching to the Rags depending upon who was winning at the time. This is the sort of background that seems to mould and fashion Junior Blues, in the minority perhaps but loyal to the core, and it certainly was so in our case. In the period 78-83, we attended virtually every home game and most away, until I left Bury in September ’83 to go to uni. in South Wales where I’ve lived ever since. Since living in this football wilderness, I suppose I cannot argue with the fact that I’ve become somewhat of a part time Blue, due mainly to work/family/distance commitments/etc, temporarily broken by a couple of visits to the oasis of soccer, the Academy. I’ll have to be honest and say that many a time I’ve thought ‘right, thats it, I’ve had enough, I cannot take the disappointment any more’ but this usually fades the next morning in anticipation of the next game. e.g. suicidal after losing to the Rags again but this fades when I realise we’ve a big Cup game on Sunday.
To summarise, the answer to ‘Why Blue’ is because it’s in the blood and when you attend your first match you’re smitten for life – very few people I know have ever been blue and jumped ship later in life. I think that being a City supporter is an admission of knowing that your team are unlikely to win anything and that you’re unlikely to care because it’s the club and culture that’s hooked you, not the success on the pitch. Having said this, I still do desperately want to see City win trophies and derby matches. I remember glancing through a history of Manchester United from ’74 to ’94 (not mine may I add but a nephew’s) which started off with a description of Manchester football 20 years previously to this, stating that at the time the Rags were living in the shadows of their more successful neighbours Manchester City and painting a picture very much the reverse of the current one. It’s funny I suppose how history repeats itself in circles, and I’m certain our day will once again come – though it’s unlikely to be until the impending 21st century. Anyway, I look forward to the day when I take my 2 young sons (aged 6 and 20 months respectively) to their first game at the Academy, when they follow in the footsteps of their father and his father before him.
Part two goes out next time around with Ian’s memories of games down the years.
First printed in: MCIVTA Newsletter #56 on
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