Philip Bradbury

Why Blue?

“I wanna tell you my tale…” so goes the line in “History,” the Verve classic. But first, I have to pay my respect to all the MCIVTA people. This is a unique and special thing that you are a part of. The coming together of minds and spirit each week tells the story of a fanbase that will never die, and I am dead proud to tell you why I’m Blue…

Intro to the Blues

I was born and bred in Ashton-under-Lyne (the home of the real United) in ’67. One of my outstanding childhood memories of the Blues is watching from my bedroom window on a cold, misty dawn in February ’76 as my dad was getting into his mates’ car, bound for Wembley. His clenched fist salute to me said it all. I remember him returning home that night and the world was a fantastic place to be. I went to bed, souvenir programme in hand, like that kid in the “Ready Brek” ads.

Surrounded in a blue glow, fortified on dreams of the glory that would surely follow, knowing that my time would come… Any veteran of the “22 years war” will tell you that those dreams have yet to be fulfilled. The responsibility for me being Blue falls fairly and squarely on my dad’s shoulders, who (just like my grandad had done with him) introduced his lads to the delights of the Academy as soon as we were old enough to know our Tuearts from our Doyles, if you get my drift. He registered us with the Junior Blues in ’73 and afterwards, we knew we were Blue just because we were Blue and that was that.

School Daze

School was where my faith in City was tested and toughened up as endless lines of spoilt brats always seemed to follow the Rags. Anybody got a theory on this? I can recall retracing my steps all the way back to school with my mate Eric one night because I’d lost my JB’s silk scarf on the way home. I was well gutted as it was Derby week and we needed our colours for all the barnying, chasing and challenge matches in the yard in the run-up to Saturday. Funny how that same dread or excitement for the following Monday would return later in my working life…

On Tour in the RAF

After one year of boredom at College and stacking shelves at Presto’s I decided to get out of Dodge and joined the RAF on a six-year contract as an Assistant Air Traffic Controller. I raised the Blue flag in such exotic places as Shrewsbury, Ipswich, Norwich, Cyprus and finally London. I forged friendships far and wide with followers of teams at all levels who loved the City crack and I never ceased to be amazed at the respect that City fans get. My East Anglian locations were excellent for away fixtures. We were always up for it and stand-out trips were Luton away in the League Cup (remember that one, when Whitey put us ahead?) and that unforgettable night at West Brom. We nearly always seemed to lose at Ipswich and I particularly remember getting locked in at Portman Road with my best mate Paul after sneaking back into the ground for a much needed p**s. As we wandered unopposed through the ground we were able to earwig the City dressing room lock-in where the great Mel Machin was mumbling his post mortem after our defeat. I think we may have worried the lad who was then doing City’s Team Talk line as we interrogated him as to how he got the job, but we stood quietly by counting the “Umms” and “Errrs” when he interviewed Mel as he emerged with his awfully dressed team (especially Neil McNab). Towards the end of my RAF career we had some great nights in London, Paul’s future wife then living in Bermondsey (excellent for Millwall visits), but I was already wondering where I’d end up next…

Next Stop Gatwick:

Back into Civvy Street in ’91 and a return to Manchester and Nat West Telecoms for a year. City were now led by Reidy and liked it. We were a solid side and it looked like we were going to do omething at last. How many times have I said that? Meanwhile the chance of moving into Civil Aviation at Gatwick came up and I packed up my bags, said farewell to my top Ashton mates and headed off again. I settled in Kent and took the Blue attitude with me. I really had become a faraway Blue by now and my belief in City was as staunch as ever… but as the Horton era passed to the dreaded squeaky I began to look abroad for work…

And Now…

e lived and worked in Paris for three years and my wife Katie has become wearily used to a string of calls each time the Blues play. I’m working with a multinational organisation so I now get the p**s taken out of me by supporters as diverse as Kaiserslautern and Ajax. Ring any bells? Anyhow, we’re really getting into the World Cup vibes this week and it’s a privilege to be living in amongst the atmosphere. It won’t surprise any of you that I failed to get any tickets no matter how I tried but I’m still up for it. And I’m still up for City. My old man still sends me the Pink each week and thanks to MCIVTA I’m often ahead of my mates in Ashton for City news. So, for what it’s worth I’d just like to say that even though I’m only a small part of the greatest army of supporters in the world and remote from those of you who loyally go week in week out, I see this coming season as our chance to regroup, get stuck in, get behind the team and enjoy our football. I am sure that as soon as we get three wins in a row (and it doesn’t matter against who) as a club, as a movement, we are going to feel a whole lot better and maybe my dreams that night 22 years ago still might have a chance…

That’s why I’m Blue. Cheers and Good Luck,
MCFC OK.

First printed in: MCIVTA Newsletter #405 on