Jim Walsh

Why Blue?

Well, I suppose it happened when I was about 8 years old. It was during the 1980’s that I developed a fear of football matches, because of the big crowds and the problem at that time of crowd violence. Anyway, one day me dad asked me if I wanted to go and see Man City (he being a long term follower since the 1960’s) against Luton Town, a match that would decide City’s future in the top flight. I agreed with much reluctance and off we went.

The match itself is memorable for the fact that I remember the bloke sitting behind me (in the Main Stand) was dropping fag ash onto the back of my seat and the fact that City spent most of the match trying to score. However they failed, Raddy Antic scored and I left depressed, unfortunately missing Davis Pleat’s dancing and the violence which followed. This obviously didn’t endear City to me and so I drifted and began to follow Liverpool’s glorious eighties run, but with one eye always on City’s progress in Division 2. However once Dalglish (boyhood hero) had lifted the double in 1986 I began to wane and my interest turned back to Manchester City.

I think it was the 10-1 beating of Huddersfield which aroused my interest as I quickly set the video to record the highlights (something I still have on Betamax tape). Then followed a long series of scouring the papers for information and results on the Blues (a timeless task even today!). I began to question why Stewart and Simpson were sold, and why Machin was sacked just as the team was beginning its upturn in form. However it wasn’t until City beat Coventry 2-1 (I think or it could have been 2-0) that I again started regular attendances at Maine Road. I’ve been through pain and anguish, seen City throw away matches, had matches abandoned that they were winning and seen them humiliated by the Rags. However, the worst experience came with my first visit to the Kippax Stand for the infamous Cup game against Spurs. The reactions on and off the pitch have been well documented, City’s appalling play coupled with the mindless actions of many City fans (sic?). My father said he wouldn’t go again and so I was forced to go to Maine Road on my own, until I eventually pursuaded him to go and see City vs. Norwich in the season just gone, but it would never be the same again.

I’m now indebted to City for providing me with many trophy free years, I cannot be called a glory hunter or a sheep for following the crowd, but I’d like to think that I was there at the start when it all began to happen (i.e. Swales’ last game in charge and the rise of Franny Lee’s new era)

First printed in: MCIVTA Newsletter #101 on