Born in St Mary’s Hospital, Manchester and dragged up in Marple, I’ve been a Blue since the age of about 6 or 7. My dad wasn’t much of a footie fan but there was a kid in my class at primary school called Stewart Bass who was both very good at football and very popular with the ladies. To be quite honest, if you were mates with Stewart Bass, you were made. Stewart had a season ticket and used to go to Maine Road every week with his brother and dad. After a brief flirtation with you-know-who (hey, I was only 7) I’d made my choice and was starting to put faces to names like Dennis Tueart, Kevin Reeves, Tommy Caton, Paul Power and the one and only Big Joe.
One Saturday morning my mum got a call from Mrs Bass saying that Stewart’s brother couldn’t make it to the game that weekend, and did she think I might be interested in going? By the time my mum had finished relaying the question to me I had already grabbed my scarf and bolted for the door. It was City vs. Swansea. I can’t remember the exact date but I have a feeling it was in the 80-81 season. We won 4-0 and I will never forget that the fourth goal was scored by Dennis Tueart when he nutmegged Dai Davies in the Swansea goal. Of course, around about this time we made it to the Cup Final where Tommy Hutchinson and Ricky Villa taught me all about the agony and the ecstasy of supporting the Blues. Despite the pain, any remaining doubts in my mind were blown away and I was hooked.
So Stewart Bass, if you’re out there, it’s all your fault. Cheers mate!
First printed in: MCIVTA Newsletter #499 on