Mark Stangroom

Why Blue?

Regular readers of MCIVTA last season might recall the debate over the good burghers of Lincoln which began with one of Tony Burns’ tongue in cheek match reports. Although I didn’t do it at the time, I have to confess that I was born there, although I didn’t know much about the place as fortunately my dad’s job changed when I was only three months old and I was smuggled away to Bramhall in Cheshire. He was an accountant at the time and moved to Tom Garner Motors in Manchester, which I think in those days was a Roots or a Chrysler car dealership, and so my odyssey began!

Little did I know I know it but only five years later I would attend my first City match (or at least I think I did). I have programmes from 1977 and 1978, so it must have been around this time that my dad took me along, although I don’t know exactly which game was my first. We had season tickets in the Main Stand and my most striking memory of my early years was not of a particular game, but of the man who always sat behind us and slagged off Mick Channon for the whole of the match, whether he was good or bad. My dad still mentions him to this day every time we reminisce. He’s probably still there, but shouting at Edghill or Goater these days.

A game I remember most from those days was when my aunt and uncle came up to visit us and we went to watch City play. I think it was against Chelsea or Derby and I remember that we either won or lost about 6-0. My uncle and aunt (both from Gillingham and both present at Wembley in May!) had driven up from Kent to visit us in their old Skoda, which my uncle used to delight in driving at literally four miles an hour so it took them about three days to reach us.

It was a strange twist of fate that we should go to Maine Road at all as my father is in fact a ManU supporter, although he is originally from Gillingham so he has dual allegiance. I asked him only a couple of years ago why he took me to Maine Road rather than OT, assuming that it was something to do with getting free tickets from his work, but he claimed that we only went to Maine Road because he couldn’t get tickets for Old Trafford! Thank God or my life could have been much much worse. The fact that it took him more than 18 years to tell me this obviously showed he was embarrased about it.

My brother was born in Bramhall and began to support City like me. Alas, when he reached a certain age (and when City were poor to say the best) he decided to stake his future footballing loyalty on whether or not City got relegated that season. Needless to say we did and he went over to support United. I still can’t quite understand this thought process, but I guess this was why the word ‘gloryhunter’ was created. I think he still feels a bit embarrassed about it when I bring it up, but I still have the eternal consolation whenever he goes on about ‘his’ team of being in possession of a photo of him in his full City strip at a young age. I suppose it’s a bit like Beckham or Giggs before they switched to the ‘dark side’.

Schooldays in Bramhall at Moss Hey School were shortlived alas, and we moved again but to Stratford Upon Avon this time when I was eight. Schoolyard chatter changed from City or United to alien teams like Villa, although my best friend at the time was an Arsenal supporter. I was a Junior Blue, so I was able to keep in touch with that side of the club, but visits to games were sadly few and far between. Secondary school was an improvement (best friends now Coventry and Forest fans) and from there on I got to see a few more games. The most memorable from this period though was travelling to Highfield Road with one of my mates on Boxing Day to see City play. The kick off was 12.30, we had no idea if there was any public transport running and it was absolutely freezing cold. (Manchester) City went 2-0 down, only for Steve Redmond to hit the net twice (a bizarre feat indeed for him) and it ended up a 2-2 draw. On another occasion I went to Villa Park with a Villa fan not even realising that we would end up in the Holte End. I had brought my City scarf and spent the whole 90 minutes terrified that it would fall out of my pocket and I would be set upon by Villa fans.

I chose Strathclyde in Glasgow for university and did a marketing course there. I spent this time trying to convert friends to the City cause and was quite successful, somehow persuading two Scots to accompany me to the FA Cup 3rd round tie at Port Vale. It was once again a freezing cold day, we had stayed at my mum’s house in Stratford, but had the prospect of a drive to Glasgow in my Mini following the match. I felt like death warmed up with the flu and wasn’t looking forward to the Blues possibly getting humbled by Port Vale. Niall Quinn got the first goal and then ex-Blue Darren Beckford hit a scorcher from the edge of the box to equalise. But what made the day worthwhile was to see Clive Allen come on and head the winner with his very first touch of the game from a corner. Top goal and a truly memorable day! Unfortunately, I also travelled down from Glasgow for the fourth round tie against Notts County. We lost one-nil and I can still recall Quinny shaving the crossbar in injury time with a header. No goal and a truly miserable day.

My Glasgow ‘period’ came to an end when I got a job near Windsor and I had to up sticks again and move down there. I had the fact that I was a Man City fan on my CV and my Bolton-supporting employer told me that this was a good thing as he would never have employed a United fan! The job meant that at least I had some more money and could now afford to go to games more often. City away games were more regular than home ones, and I always seemed to think that having travelled a ridiculous distance seemed to mean that we should have the divine right to win the game… unfortunately I was to be sorely disappointed. My timing was such that I think there was a period of several years when I didn’t see City win a game ‘live’. God, I was the guy who wanted Brian Clough as manager and we got Nigel Clough as player! Nevertheless, I carried on regardless and have now ended up living and working in Barcelona.

Now at the ripe old age of 27 I do have great memories of City… not of trophies and titles… not in my supporting lifetime… but of individual games and goals. Going to the league game against Ipswich on a Saturday where City put in a dismal performance to lose 1-0 and then travelling on the next day to Manchester for the Paul Lake testimonial, where the team put in far more effort against United (especially Michael Brown!) to get a typical testimonial 2-2 draw; attending the final game of the season against Reading, coming back from 2-0 down to win 3-2 and then hooting wildly at the Reading team coach as we followed it back down the motorway afterwards. Going to Swindon to see City win 3-1 from 1-0 down with a posse of ten ‘new’ City supporters that I had converted, and then going to Reading the following midweek and being oh so grateful my friends had not come to this game as we collapsed 3-0 in what was probably one of the direst performances ever seen.

Barcelona this year has been a great experience for me, but of all the cities in all the world why did United and their fans have to follow me here after only four months? Needless to say, there was a different atmosphere come the following weekend when Barcelona was shaken by the sound of I and my girlfriend celebrating City’s win in the same pub where I had been heartbroken by Sheringham and Solskjaer only a few days before.

There are many more games I could mention that have special memories for me, but I’ve taken up enough space already. Brightwell’s equaliser against United at Old Trafford will always hold a special place in my heart. The good memories are probably outweighed by many more bad ones, and I used to envy those who were able to say they were old enough to have seen cup victories, league title successes and European glories. But now, under Joe Royle, I have a funny feeling that we might just have a chance of doing something major whilst I’m alive. Peter Reid gave me a similar feeling, but now I sense that just for once we have someone at the helm who actually has half a clue what they are doing. It’s such a strange feeling that I’m trying hard to cope with it.

I used to receive MCIVTA when I lived in Windsor and it was a great supplement to all the other news sources for information. Now I live abroad I can see how it is almost a lifeline for many City fans. I don’t know if City fans living in Britain will understand it, but when you have the non-existent efforts of the BBC World Service to bring you any news, you rely on organs like MCIVTA to give you the information you need to save hours and days of nerve wracking worries of what’s going on. I can only imagine how good MCIVTA is for those who live even further afield.

So, I would like to end this lengthy posting by saying thank you to all contributors to MCIVTA, and also to those who run it. I might have two of my closest relatives who have come out of the closet to support United, but I wouldn’t want to support any other team than City. I now live in hope of the day that Barcelona might entertain City at the Nou Camp in the Champions League, and with Joe and Willie at the helm I get the feeling that that might not be such a fantasy as many non-City supporters would think.

First printed in: MCIVTA Newsletter #533 on