Paul V. Muschamp

Why Blue?

Like most kids of around 6 or 7 I guess I flitted from team to team as the fancy (or results) took me. In the mid/late-sixties there were no overly-dominant teams; one week I was an Everton fan, the next week Chelsea, the next West Brom, etc. My two brothers and one sister were all Reds. My dad must have been quietly biding his time until one day when I decided that I was a City fan. He promptly took me to Maine Road against Spurs. We were sat in the old Platt Lane Stand and I still remember everyone standing up as the action got close to the goal, so I don’t think I saw any of the goals. We won 4-0 and Colin Bell was the hero of the day. Of course, after this I was hooked.

The following few years were marvellous as we won the four major trophies with one memorable evening for me spent in the Platt Lane with my Dad seeing City drub Schalke 04 5-1 in the ECWC semi.

It wasn’t until the early seventies until I was allowed to venture to Maine Road on my own and I stood on the Kippax terraces during Rodney Marsh’s heyday. He seemed to have about one good game every four, but when he turned it on (nutmegging clueless defenders) he was a joy to watch.

The mid-seventies saw us assemble a great team and I was at Wembley in ’76 to see Tueart’s winner in the League Cup. We seemed to get the upper hand at the derbies most of the time as well; City’s 4-0 win over United in the League Cup was probably the best, with Asa Hartford completely controlling the game in midfield. Despite Bell’s injury at the hands of the despicable Martin Buchan, I can’t remember seeing a more overwhelming performance by the Blues over United, including the famous 5-1 win.

How we threw away the chamionship to Liverpool still baffles me. Soon after this, when all my favourties like Asa and Tueart were sold, I lost interest a little and didn’t renew my season ticket. For a few years after that I seemed to be more interested in United losing (e.g. the ’79 Cup Final) than in City winning and it was not until the mid-eighties that I took up travelling to games again regularly. By that time I had moved to East Anglia (a footballing desert if ever there was one) so I saw more away games than home.

The eighties were up-and-down times with many amazing games and the banana era. At the first promotion clincher against Charlton (5-1) it was great to be back on the Kippax with a 40,000+ crowd. The second clincher against Bradford City was more nerve-racking. We needed only a draw to go up, and at 0-1 down a City fan got onto the pitch and seemed to have a quiet word with each of the players before the stewards got to him. It seems that Palace were 4-0 up against Brimingham and if they scored another and we lost 0-1, then Palace would clinch promotion on goal difference. It seemed to do the trick and we equalised. The whole ground was full of Blues and the place erupted.

Then came the Kendall/Reid era and the two Maine Road derbies stick in my mind. The first under Kendall was soul-destroying. I won’t forget my joy when Colin Hendry stuck the third goal in only to see Reid substituted and the Reds pull two back and then nearly snatch a late winner. The second was a packed house when City/Utd occupied first and second place in the league. Tickets exchanging for