Welcome

Welcome to my first attempt at creating words to be read by the masses. I’m not doing this for prestige, financial reward or as a means to create discussion. Nor will it be used purely as a means to vent (it goes without saying that venting will still take place, it just won’t be the sole reason of the existence of these pages). I want to use this little space of the internet I have as my own in order to hopefully educate, pass on my experiences and hopefully share laughs and tears until I simply get bored of sharing these thoughts any longer.

Ideally these will be posted on a weekly basis (less so in the summer months) to share the previous weeks thoughts and feelings.

‘Cupset’

The word ‘cupset’ as a matter of course should not be spoken. It’s a hideous word that both ITV and ESPN are doing their best to get the public to hook onto & to adopt. They won’t. The football going public do not want nor like these Americanisms forced upon them. This word will not enter common usage. Not on their game. Not on their watch.

I was drinking in a bustling unnamed pub where somebody unfortunately mentioned this ill-fated, soon to perish word. “Leeds may get a result against Arsenal. I can see a cupset happening.” The pub fell silent. Patrons gasped in disbelief. A small child cried. The shame was palpable. The man left. Normality commenced.

City, City, The Best Team in the Land in all the World


Notts County await, the 4th round of the much popularised ‘great leveller’ (this one can die a painful death too. Cancer of the vowel for this media inducted phrase would be a fitting end.) is set to begin in earnest with up to 5,700 of Manchester’s finest set to be in attendance to support the much, media, maligned super blues and hopefully guide them through to the 5th round without needing to bring the game back to home turf as was required against a valiant Leicester in the previous round.

Sitting almost 50 positions and 2 divisions above County in the football pyramid this should be a cakewalk, a stroll in the park… a guaranteed victory. But no. This isn’t just the cup, the FA cup, this is Manchester City. For those of you that are not familiar with City, you’ll be blissfully unaware of their ability to self-implode, to make the easy look daunting, to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory and the simple look solid.

Typical City
Typical City, a bygone word hopefully for a bygone age, in the past; when the calamitous events took hold on the pitch, when the unexplained transpired off it Mulder and Scully were not called in. There would just be a mass shaking of heads, the odd tut and the muttering of those words. “Typical City.” Ironically the word typical is used to describe something that is so untypical.

This is a new age, a different era, the beginning of a new eon. Typical City will undoubtedly remain a phrase used on terraces of the Colin Bell Stand but the change is already coming. Whereas it once was used to refer to losing a game without the opposition having a shot on target, to miss a penalty when the opposition keeper is quite happy for a legend of the English game to break a record or Jamie Pollock scoring quite possibly the most well taken own goal of all time. If there were a hall of fame for own goals this wouldn’t just be at the summit, the hall of fame would be named in honour of this particular ‘goal’. That was then. This is now. Typical City is beginning to take on new meaning. Now it refers to drawing at home against a resolute Blackburn side. Shipping 3 goals to a battling Wolves team scrapping for their proverbial premiership lives. But still not losing. That’s the difference. In the last age of this proud club when Typical City struck disaster followed. Now it strikes and there’s a sense of anxiety, even panic for a moment of 10 minutes (or 15 if City happen to be playing those that shall not be named or are involved in a game refereed by a particularly incompetent referee.) but nothing more than a fleeting worry of what could happen. What the supporters expect to happen. That the worst will happen.

This is that new age, for the most part the worst does not happen. Anxiety and stress is replaced with relief and then joy. Victories are still accumulated, the manager and his aide-de-camp (Kompany, De Jong and Tevez) remain unshaken. These three modern day gladiators dig in at what was once brownland in East Manchester as the free men of the world did at Verdun. They hold their ground, they remain unshaken and they tell the opposition “You shall not pass!” (Unfortunately Tevez decides not to pass to anybody, but that’s a topic for another day’s conversation). This is the spine of a team that will win trophies. Ability is easy to replace (providing you have the right financial clout), the mindset of the winner not so. This is the foundation that City can ill afford to lose.

The City of Manchester Stadium
I won’t bore you with facts or figures, that’s Wikipedia’s job. I will share experience, something that cannot be added to an encyclopaedia in the same way knowledge, information and data can. This is the home ground of Manchester City, a place that is more passionate than it ever has been in the past. This is where supporting your football team is evolving to strange new levels; at least in England. This is where footballing history will be made and the benchmark will be set.

City, for the majority of their existence played their home games at Maine Road. A once behemoth of stadiums that was nick-named ‘The Wembley of the North’ upon construction. A grand standing arena that hosted 80,000 plus on more than one occasion became a tight compact football ground as the decades progressed and eventually became a unique footballing stadium during the 90’s when all seating was introduced. Blues of all ages have memories of Maine Road in the same way every fan has of their own grounds, past and preset. From the good to the bad. Of the Typical City. No other fan has memories of that. The bitter, bitter taste of losing when winning was the only likely conclusion. It is because of this, that the sweet will taste so much sweeter.

Maine Road though was not enough, the club had ambitions and with the Commonwealth games it also had an opportunity. The athletics stadium was being offered on lease. City took that lease and redeveloped the ground into a bowl arena offering ideal views of football for just over 47,000 at any one time. A huge improvement on the limited 32,000 Maine Road offered just before its passing.

Something wasn’t right. Where the Kippax was cramped, intimidating, raucous and offering the acoustics a 12th century Tuscan cathedral would be proud of, the City of Manchester Stadium was large, non-imposing, and instead of retaining the roar of the crowd let it drift up and away into the stratosphere. If Maine Road had the aesthetics of Vlad’s Transelvanian fortress, the City of Manchester Stadium was Disney’s castle.

For nigh on a decade it escaped Mr Joe City what was wrong. What worked once was not creating the atmosphere that used to exist at Maine Road. Instead they were left with the sound, that although still put many English footballing greats to shame, did not rival what was created at Maine Road. The hairs on the arms on the back of the neck would stand to attention at Maine Road. For many a year they fluttered in the City of Manchester Stadium’s unnatural breeze.

All it took to change this was 10,000 Poles. Lech came and showed their Mancunian cousins where they were going wrong. The boys from Poznan had a joker up their sleeves. Although offering rapturous support as ever for their beloved team they had also learnt something from their Ekstraklasa rivals Jagiellonia Białystok. Białystok have played for some time in a stadium that offers nothing in way of capturing the sound. Sound, as a medium, has been the football fans weapon of choice in intimidating the opposition for a century or more. In grounds that have poor acoustics (bowls, high roofed, etc) or are removed from the playing surface (running tracks, designed by idiots, etc)  then sound is a pretty ineffective weapon. Attempting to intimidate the opposition with sound at Białystok was like attempting to tackle a panzer with a feather duster.

The ‘Poznan’


Białystok did something that was not quite unique, but something that moved the focus away from the audio to the visual. They showed their back to the playing area. They bounced. The visual unexpected is greater than the resonance expected. Poznan sang. Białystok could not hear. The players saw what was once considered tame support (by Polish standards at least) bounce for two hours, only turning to applaud their heroes after scoring.

Almost 5 years after this, Lech brought this to Manchester. They bounced whilst the City fans scorned and mocked. At first. Then that moment of realisation hit those from Manchester. They’ve since gone on to carry the spirit of the Poznan where ever they have played, firstly in small numbers. But it’s catching on. 45,000 did it following City’s recent 4th goal against Wolves. The visual spectacle has brought comments from both sides of the spectrum from opposing fans in recent weeks. The proof is in the pudding though, those that have witnessed it have now taken it and it’s catching on at their respective clubs.

As the winter chill remains this will remain just a spectacle that can only be appreciated by those that take part. As the nights draw out, the weather becomes milder and the coats are left at home or in the car, those at home will begin to see a mesmerising shade of sky blue during television coverage of games, bounce for all their worth. Something else will also happen between now and then. The visual impact of thousands of comrades in arms moving in unison, as has been the norm on the continent since the early 80s and earlier will fully dawn on those ever faithful blues from Manchester. Something beyond comprehension will happen. They will take it to Wembley and beyond whilst contesting for trophies and prestige and the world will see. The world will imitate. The world will do the ‘Manchester City’.