Colin Bell the King
07 Sep 2004, 07:28 AM
Hi all. I'm new here, so I'm going on a long winded rant about all that is wrong with the 'glory game', as we call it in England.
I'm 20, going on 21, and for the past 11 years my life has been devoted to Manchester City FC. The phrase at CoM's says it all. 'One Life, One Love, One City' - this is definately true for me, or was. But now I've grown disallusioned with the game I once thought about more obsessively than my family, or my friends. To me, losing one of them would be a shock, but I would deal with it. Yet at the time I felt that without Man City my life would be really empty, devoid of a structure. I know it is not healthy to think like this, which is why I am seeing a psychologist to try and cure me of this 'disease'.
Firstly, a bit of background on me, and the lengths I've gone to support Man City.
I was born in St Marys Hospital in Moss Side, Manchester, in 1984. Born to a Bolton fan and a neutral who just watched England in 66. No link between them and Man City, apart from the fact that they were my local team. I vividly remember at the age of one and a half at my house, some three miles from Maine Road (Old City ground) seeing thousands of happy City fans lining the streets. They had just been to see Man City beat Charlton 5-1 to win promotion back to the old division one. At the time I didnt know what was going on, nor did I care to. That was to come later.
When I was a kid growing up, football was always a part of our lives. We played it at school before lessons, during our break times, and often stayed behind after school to play on the good pitches or tennis courts. This was before the proper football season started and the trials for the school A and B, sometimes a C team started. Newspapers were full of stories about players of the time, and everyone knew who Bryan Robson and Eric Cantona were. At primary school we talked about them all the time, and collected Panini sticker collections. I loved football at this time, but not a specific club. At the time it did not exist to me. I knew about teams but I simply wasn't interested in them.
It all began to change when I started at Secondary school. On my first day there, in my new clothes, I was roughly jostled by some older lads, who demanded to know 'which fackin team do you support, mate?'. At the time I said England, they just laughed at me then left me alone. The next lad they asked the question to said he was an Everton fan. He then got a smack in the mouth for being a 'scouse cnut'. I was shocked, but fascinated at the time too. The next few days were an education in itself. At breaktimes the football games would still go on, but there would sometimes be groups of lads and occasionally ladies doing crude chants. To a kid, there is nothing better than hearing a swear word and repeating it ad nauseum. Mystical places called 'The Cheadle End' (Stockport County), 'The Stretford End' (Dirty red cnuts) and 'The Kippax' (Man City) were bandied about and I remember one day, seeing a group of 100 boys bouncing up and down and singing 'Lets go fcuking mental'. What was this all about? One of the lads who was doing it was in my class, so I asked him what he was doing and why he said it.
'We're City mate, You dont support a team aye? Well get yer arse down to Maine Road and get an education. Don't become a Munich they're all arrogant tossers, you want to be with the real boys. Listen aye, get yer da to take you to your first game, you cant come with us cause you'll get frightened by the crowd'
Of course. I badgered my dad to take me to my first game, inspired to be a City fan all due to the 'male bonding' session I had shared. Initially my dad was scared away by the Man City hooligan reputation, but finally he relented and took me to see Man City vs Chelsea, December 23rd 1994/1995 (The season we went down). I cant remember much, the crowd was quiet, but the game captivated me. I remember exactly how Mark Hughes scored his goal to give Chelsea a 1-0 win. The ball was crossed into the area and he dived in with his leg to poke it in. Touche! I was now a City fan.
Due to financial constraints we couldn't make any more games that season. We got relegated anyway. My first season as a City fan and we did that! At the time I wasn't too gutted because I didnt properly understand the ramifications of relegation. To me there was no difference between playing Everton or Liverpool, compared to Tranmere.
Then came along Sunderland at home in 1995/1996. City were on a very long losing streak, awful for a team tipped for automatic promotion back to the Premiership. I think it was the game that if Kevin Phillips scored in he would equel the longest scoring run of any Sunderland player since Brian Clough. Anyway, we were right by the away fans for this game, the first time I recall being intimidated at a game by people who spoke funny, acted funny and wore red and white striped shirts. Anyway City lost again, Kevin Phillips scoring the goal, and for the first time I saw the Sunderland fans going absolutely barmy and loads of coins and plastic cups being thrown at them. Why was everyone getting so angry? At the time I didnt understand it. I went to five more games that season, each time starting to understand crowd dynamics more, and realising that certain parts of the ground were louder than others. The North Stand near the away fans was the loudest, the Kippax a close second, then the Platt Lane third, loud when prompted, then the end we called the 'Old Geezers end', the Main Stand.
The season after that, we got relegated again to division 2. I remember feeling gutted going down 5-2 at Stoke, even though I wasnt at the game. By now I was going to more or less every home game, but I wanted to go away too, but me mam and dad wouldn't let me. 'Too young, lad', they said. Plus they were still paranoid after what had happened to Hillsborough. They did relent for when were were in the second division though.
Division two (Or three) was what I affectionately call the glory days. I was 15, allowed to go to away games on my own. The grounds were still terraced, the home fans always sold out for us since we were a massive whale in a small pond and prices were relatively cheap. I went almost everywhere that season. Got to the grounds early on the coaches and since the places were usually terracing I would get in early and get a good spec halfway down behind the goal and in front of a crush barrier. City took thousands everywhere in those days so sometimes it would be a tight squeeze. Anyway, my first season as a 'fanatic', and the closest representation of how the old days used to be. When old lads go on about the old days of terrace camaderie I know I cant join in, but I can relate in the tiniest bit. I will never know what it was like to be part of a huge swaying 28,000 Kippax or Kop, but I can relate to being in terraced crowds holding 3,000 manic City away fans.
I also remember the hooliganism. The home and away games versus Millwall where the Millwall fans really were a disgrace. The feeling of being in away territory always made me feel nervous, but it was a buzz, and this is the same buzz which I am trying to curb down on. This same buzz meant I havent missed a single home game for seven years now, and have only missed six or seven away games in those years too. At Man City we have a loyalty point scheme where when you buy an away ticket you get 10 points added to your loyalty points. The maximum you can have is 2560 currently, and I have 2540. Sad, I know. I've spent well over 8,000 already on City, and that, at 20 years old, is pretty incredible. Already this season I've not missed a game apart from the friendlies because I was on holiday. But I spent fifteen quid listening to the commentary at home from a phone box in Spain.
My flat is a shrine to Man City. Only one of my close friends goes to away games, so more often than not I go on my own, or with people who only go for a day out, so cant get passionate about the game. My current girlfriend gets back from London on the 15th Sept, and wants to go out together on the Saturday, but I'll be at Crystal Palace away. No question about what I'd rather be doing on that score.
So welcome to my **********ty life. I'm hoping to understand why I've fallen so obsessively for MCFC. Nothing else in life I get addicted to this way. I'm articulate, going place with my career, have hundreds of friends, yet it is very very difficult to completely shake MCFC from my head when on social outings, going clubbing or whatever.
Southampton vs Man City, Oct 2nd (12.45pm Kickoff) is the first game I am aiming to miss deliberately for the last eight years. Instead I am going to go to the pub, watch the game on Sky then go out with friends. Just hoping generally to enjoy the football without going every fookin where with this club.
Wish me luck! Any questions you want to ask, feel free to ask. I've not even touched the iceberg of how much MCFC mean to me with this topic. :)
I'm 20, going on 21, and for the past 11 years my life has been devoted to Manchester City FC. The phrase at CoM's says it all. 'One Life, One Love, One City' - this is definately true for me, or was. But now I've grown disallusioned with the game I once thought about more obsessively than my family, or my friends. To me, losing one of them would be a shock, but I would deal with it. Yet at the time I felt that without Man City my life would be really empty, devoid of a structure. I know it is not healthy to think like this, which is why I am seeing a psychologist to try and cure me of this 'disease'.
Firstly, a bit of background on me, and the lengths I've gone to support Man City.
I was born in St Marys Hospital in Moss Side, Manchester, in 1984. Born to a Bolton fan and a neutral who just watched England in 66. No link between them and Man City, apart from the fact that they were my local team. I vividly remember at the age of one and a half at my house, some three miles from Maine Road (Old City ground) seeing thousands of happy City fans lining the streets. They had just been to see Man City beat Charlton 5-1 to win promotion back to the old division one. At the time I didnt know what was going on, nor did I care to. That was to come later.
When I was a kid growing up, football was always a part of our lives. We played it at school before lessons, during our break times, and often stayed behind after school to play on the good pitches or tennis courts. This was before the proper football season started and the trials for the school A and B, sometimes a C team started. Newspapers were full of stories about players of the time, and everyone knew who Bryan Robson and Eric Cantona were. At primary school we talked about them all the time, and collected Panini sticker collections. I loved football at this time, but not a specific club. At the time it did not exist to me. I knew about teams but I simply wasn't interested in them.
It all began to change when I started at Secondary school. On my first day there, in my new clothes, I was roughly jostled by some older lads, who demanded to know 'which fackin team do you support, mate?'. At the time I said England, they just laughed at me then left me alone. The next lad they asked the question to said he was an Everton fan. He then got a smack in the mouth for being a 'scouse cnut'. I was shocked, but fascinated at the time too. The next few days were an education in itself. At breaktimes the football games would still go on, but there would sometimes be groups of lads and occasionally ladies doing crude chants. To a kid, there is nothing better than hearing a swear word and repeating it ad nauseum. Mystical places called 'The Cheadle End' (Stockport County), 'The Stretford End' (Dirty red cnuts) and 'The Kippax' (Man City) were bandied about and I remember one day, seeing a group of 100 boys bouncing up and down and singing 'Lets go fcuking mental'. What was this all about? One of the lads who was doing it was in my class, so I asked him what he was doing and why he said it.
'We're City mate, You dont support a team aye? Well get yer arse down to Maine Road and get an education. Don't become a Munich they're all arrogant tossers, you want to be with the real boys. Listen aye, get yer da to take you to your first game, you cant come with us cause you'll get frightened by the crowd'
Of course. I badgered my dad to take me to my first game, inspired to be a City fan all due to the 'male bonding' session I had shared. Initially my dad was scared away by the Man City hooligan reputation, but finally he relented and took me to see Man City vs Chelsea, December 23rd 1994/1995 (The season we went down). I cant remember much, the crowd was quiet, but the game captivated me. I remember exactly how Mark Hughes scored his goal to give Chelsea a 1-0 win. The ball was crossed into the area and he dived in with his leg to poke it in. Touche! I was now a City fan.
Due to financial constraints we couldn't make any more games that season. We got relegated anyway. My first season as a City fan and we did that! At the time I wasn't too gutted because I didnt properly understand the ramifications of relegation. To me there was no difference between playing Everton or Liverpool, compared to Tranmere.
Then came along Sunderland at home in 1995/1996. City were on a very long losing streak, awful for a team tipped for automatic promotion back to the Premiership. I think it was the game that if Kevin Phillips scored in he would equel the longest scoring run of any Sunderland player since Brian Clough. Anyway, we were right by the away fans for this game, the first time I recall being intimidated at a game by people who spoke funny, acted funny and wore red and white striped shirts. Anyway City lost again, Kevin Phillips scoring the goal, and for the first time I saw the Sunderland fans going absolutely barmy and loads of coins and plastic cups being thrown at them. Why was everyone getting so angry? At the time I didnt understand it. I went to five more games that season, each time starting to understand crowd dynamics more, and realising that certain parts of the ground were louder than others. The North Stand near the away fans was the loudest, the Kippax a close second, then the Platt Lane third, loud when prompted, then the end we called the 'Old Geezers end', the Main Stand.
The season after that, we got relegated again to division 2. I remember feeling gutted going down 5-2 at Stoke, even though I wasnt at the game. By now I was going to more or less every home game, but I wanted to go away too, but me mam and dad wouldn't let me. 'Too young, lad', they said. Plus they were still paranoid after what had happened to Hillsborough. They did relent for when were were in the second division though.
Division two (Or three) was what I affectionately call the glory days. I was 15, allowed to go to away games on my own. The grounds were still terraced, the home fans always sold out for us since we were a massive whale in a small pond and prices were relatively cheap. I went almost everywhere that season. Got to the grounds early on the coaches and since the places were usually terracing I would get in early and get a good spec halfway down behind the goal and in front of a crush barrier. City took thousands everywhere in those days so sometimes it would be a tight squeeze. Anyway, my first season as a 'fanatic', and the closest representation of how the old days used to be. When old lads go on about the old days of terrace camaderie I know I cant join in, but I can relate in the tiniest bit. I will never know what it was like to be part of a huge swaying 28,000 Kippax or Kop, but I can relate to being in terraced crowds holding 3,000 manic City away fans.
I also remember the hooliganism. The home and away games versus Millwall where the Millwall fans really were a disgrace. The feeling of being in away territory always made me feel nervous, but it was a buzz, and this is the same buzz which I am trying to curb down on. This same buzz meant I havent missed a single home game for seven years now, and have only missed six or seven away games in those years too. At Man City we have a loyalty point scheme where when you buy an away ticket you get 10 points added to your loyalty points. The maximum you can have is 2560 currently, and I have 2540. Sad, I know. I've spent well over 8,000 already on City, and that, at 20 years old, is pretty incredible. Already this season I've not missed a game apart from the friendlies because I was on holiday. But I spent fifteen quid listening to the commentary at home from a phone box in Spain.
My flat is a shrine to Man City. Only one of my close friends goes to away games, so more often than not I go on my own, or with people who only go for a day out, so cant get passionate about the game. My current girlfriend gets back from London on the 15th Sept, and wants to go out together on the Saturday, but I'll be at Crystal Palace away. No question about what I'd rather be doing on that score.
So welcome to my **********ty life. I'm hoping to understand why I've fallen so obsessively for MCFC. Nothing else in life I get addicted to this way. I'm articulate, going place with my career, have hundreds of friends, yet it is very very difficult to completely shake MCFC from my head when on social outings, going clubbing or whatever.
Southampton vs Man City, Oct 2nd (12.45pm Kickoff) is the first game I am aiming to miss deliberately for the last eight years. Instead I am going to go to the pub, watch the game on Sky then go out with friends. Just hoping generally to enjoy the football without going every fookin where with this club.
Wish me luck! Any questions you want to ask, feel free to ask. I've not even touched the iceberg of how much MCFC mean to me with this topic. :)