Where to begin? Apologies in advance, this is going to be a long one.
Since I got on the plane from Istanbul on Monday lunchtime I've thought a lot about what I could possibly say to put everything in to words.
As you would expect, there's already been great articles from City fans about the past weekend, in particular Dan Burke and Howard Hockin as always delivering when it comes to summing up how it feels to be a City fan.
I think back to my wonderful friend Mike Hammond's tweet on the Sunday night (how he was able to write something so good at that time I have no idea, I was more interested in turning a bar just off Navizade Street into my own disco) which starts with the sentence: Every fan here has their own story. So you're going to get mine, and I'll pick it up right from the last blog I wrote on Wednesday 8th February.
We had just lost to Spurs away (again), we had a football organisation accuse City of cheating (again), and the next couple of weeks for me looked like it was going to ruin me financially (again). Villa at home was not a game that will live long in the memory but all good unbeaten runs need to start somewhere and didn't we need it at the time?
Following this game was a run of 5 away games. A lot of people that go a lot reflect on the 4 aways on the spin in October/November 2013 as a tough run of it (West Ham, Moscow, Chelsea, Newcastle) but these 5 between 12th to 28th February were heavy going.
First of all - Arsenal. What a place to start. We had gone into the World Cup break 5 points behind them and although we had been shuddering along a little bit since the restart we found ourselves in a position where we could go top of the league that night if we won. I drove down that night, after missing the turn off on the M25 and effectively taking an hour to go round a roundabout (including some exceptional road rage) we got to Cockfosters to get the tube into North London. We'll get on to the game but my first literal taste of euphoria that night was just off Finsbury Park. There was this shawarma wrap kebab thing which rivals the oft-spoken about burger I had on Boxing Day in Hull 2016. With the taste of succulent lamb in my mouth we marched over to The Emirates. We had to win, really. To lose any more ground on them would make it almost impossible to wrestle the league back. They're a good team, Arsenal. 1-1 at half time seemed a fair result at the time but City stepped up in the 2nd half and when Grealish placed the ball in the bottom corner bedlam ensued in that small corner of The Emirates. He's been quality post World Cup, Jack. I love him. He's like a rock star. The way he got about during the trophy parade was how I'd expect Tommy Lee from Motley Crue to be getting about, heroic. Then The Big Fella made it 3-1 - job done, more scenes of joy temporarily masking the impending bruises and cuts all over your legs.
Onto Nottingham Forest. Not often I go to a ground in England for the first time (actually, I had gone to see Forest play Villa in around 1997 which is up there with Blackburn vs Everton in the Charity Shield and Rotherham vs Southampton in the Johnstones Paint Trophy as one of the most random games of football I've been to). A real sense of everyone being up for it as it was a new place to visit, but it's a bit of a pig to get to. Trains were hammered on the way down there, but after going to football for this long the smell of state beer, sweaty replica kits and regret doesn't really affect you. Saw a few old pubs in Nottingham, Ye Olde Trip To Jerusalem was where we did the majority of our kegging and I met up with an old friend of mine from my university days who supports Forest. Game was unremarkable, should have won, missed a load of chances and they scored late on. Amongst them letting off fireworks outside the ground(!) for a draw, it was a little on top getting back into the city centre. Got stuck into a few bars afterwards and ended up having a curry which made us miss our last train back to Manchester. £40 each on an Uber back to The Castle was unnecessary but my God it was a great laugh.
Last thing I needed after a heavy day like that was a European away game. We flew to Berlin on Tuesday evening, got into one of the lounges at Manchester Airport - don't think the other people booked in at 3pm were quite prepared for 7 City fans looking to make the most the complimentary bottled lager. Had a great time in Leipzig, not sure I would be rushing back to get there again but having a booze in Germany with your mates is always good. Game was pretty uneventful, another 1-1 draw and at this point the thought of winning the treble was not on our agenda at all.
Anyway, we go again. Down to Bournemouth and after a very heavy week this was a sober one in the car. Saw some bloke blow his front right tyre by driving into the step that surrounds a fuel pump which caused me some amusement. City at the time were not exactly firing on all cylinders so to be 3 up at half time was a bit of a buzz and it felt like the confidence was starting to come back after a few more positive results. A few days later City played away at Bristol City in the F.A. Cup - not much to add after Bournemouth on a personal note apart from I ended up getting absolutely diddled by Bristol Council for forgetting to pay a clean air charge. Another good performance for City in that awful 3rd kit but what was great round this time of the season is how much the AWOO-ing started going off at every game - and after these 5 games on the spin I really did feel like I was following them everywhere.
Back at the Etihad against Newcastle a week after they sadly lost the Carabao Cup final against the quadruple chasing United - make no mistake about it, as the winter turned to Spring they were unashamedly BACK and didn't we all hear about it? They were ready and waiting to turn it into a 3 horse race for the title... Had a great day here, early kick off against a team doing well, PWF back to his best and despite a few hairy moments we won with a clean sheet - can't ask for more than that. Went for one in Mary D's after the match and Bournemouth went 1 up in the first minute vs Arsenal, hope is in the air. Taxi to Oldham Street and in the back room of The Castle, packed out with City fans including some of the lads from Blossoms. More scenes of celebration when Bournemouth go 2 up - this could be one of *them* days. I cover all bases and put money on an Arsenal victory. 30 minutes later the joy had turn to despair as somehow Arsenal had won 3-2, I wasn't too down beat about it as having been in a few title races it felt way too early in the season for these last minute emotional winners, plus they're conceding against a team we dicked the previous week (oh, and I won £165). As a side note, United lost the following day 7-0.
Thankfully, no midweek football to report here but we were away again the following weekend. I'd say there's not many sentences which make me lick my lips more than "London away Saturday 17:30". Down on a train and got the tube into Soho, what a great gaff for a beer. Got a great picture of me outside Bradley's Spanish Bar near Tottenham Court Road at about 12:30 and a not so great picture of me (in my opinion) pouring a jug of hot water over where I'd been sick on the street at about 15:30. I blame that completely on that angin beer they serve in Sam Smiths pubs, literally makes me gag. The game at Crystal Palace was, and you'll be surprised to hear this after the previous two sentences, a bit of a blur. But The Big Fella scored a late-ish penalty and we claimed the three points. A mate of mine I was with earlier in the day got separated from us at the game, ended up having a few beers near the ground afterwards, realised he missed the last train and got an Uber back to Manchester from Croydon - makes my Nottingham journey seem like a quick commute. Train home was quality as we sat in first class and were not moved - come on!
Two games in quick succession coming up where I think it's fair to say City were at it. 7-0 vs Leipzig and then 6-0 vs Vincent Kompany's Burnley, The Big Fella scoring 8 goals in two games. It had felt like some time since we had really pasted someone so to have two games in a few days where we looked incredible just raised the confidence and you could see it in the players body language. The Burnley game was great too, atmosphere in the South Stand rocking with the great man getting a cracking ovation. God I love Vincent, what a bloke. The international break came next, I spent a few days sunning myself in Spain in preparation for what I can only describe as the greatest 2 and a bit months of my life...
Liverpool at home. Apart from the obvious there's no other team I get more enjoyment beating than Liverpool. We simply had to win, which was not going to be straight forward with Haaland out injured. Early kick off on the Saturday, put down a marker for how we're going to go over the next few weeks to chase down Arsenal. Against the run of play we went 1 down but then a moment that has almost been forgotten about happened - City lost the ball, Liverpool break and if there's one prick you don't want to see running at your goal unchallenged it's Mo Salah. Grealish chased him down and won the ball, not too long after he plays a ball for Alvarez to tap in. Straight at it from the start of the 2nd half and we ended up absolutely pissing it. Made the team that pushed us all the way, the team that have been our great rivals in this era look like mid table fodder. Glorious, and Jack also got his goal in what was probably his finest moment in a blue shirt. Haaland in the stands doing The Poznan, just great stuff. He was back the following week away to Southampton scoring twice, the second being an absolutely outrageous acrobatic kick - sometimes you just cannot believe that this is Alfie Haaland's son. A much better trip to Southampton than back in January anyway - that was probably the worst game City have played under Pep and unbelievably Nathan Jones' Southampton were the team to stop City doing the quadruple.
The next game in any other season would be a stand out as one of the greatest but the quality of what we witnessed this season has it being glossed over. After tanning Leipzig we had a difficult draw in the Champions League - Munich and if we got past them likely Real Madrid. Leroy's homecoming and the potential return of Joao Cancelo. I don't think the score flattered us at all winning 3-0 against Bayern, Rodri, that beautiful man, scoring a screamer and then Bernardo and Haaland putting the icing on the cake in the 2nd half. I boo'd Cancelo and I have absolutely no regrets, fuck him. Atmosphere was bouncing in the South Stand, it's a cliche which I have hated over the years but you just cannot beat big Champions League fixtures.
Leicester at home was quite a forgettable game as we were winning quite early but didn't have a great 2nd half. The three points were the most important thing, especially as the previous Sunday Arsenal had dropped points at Liverpool from being 2 up. Bit of pressure on Arsenal here and who knows, West Ham away the following day could turn into a tricky fixture... and would you bloody believe it, they dropped points again from being 2 up - what could have been 6 points ended up being 2. Was it back on? Oh yes, they could feel the breath of the Parrot down their necks.
Before we get back to the league we had to get the 2nd leg of Munich out the way. I got there on the Monday night, I was travelling on my own and for some reason all accommodation in Munich seemed to be really expensive so I thought I'd make the most of my age and I booked an 18-35 hostel. What the fuck was I thinking? Sharing a room with 11 strangers, shared showers and bathrooms and me, not exactly light on my feet, being on the top bunk. Honestly, it was one of the biggest howlers I've ever made and that's coming from someone who has driven back to England from the same city having lost my glasses. Had a great time with great people though, but after a big session on the Tuesday I was struggling to say the very least on the day of the game - think it was the first European away trip I've ever done where I couldn't bring myself to have a pint on the day of the game. Game not overly exciting, The Big Fella put us 1 up and we were through. I'd already booked a flight back from Madrid so I'm glad that that wasn't wasted, just had to work out how to get there... I should also point out that the Thursday I flew back, the quadruple charge for Erik's plucky reds was over as Sevilla beat them 3-0, what a shame.
We had Sheffield United at Wembley on the Saturday, an early start on the train. I wanted to try and get an early night so I could get up early and go to the gym because as you might have gathered if you've got this far, there's been a fair bit of drinking going on in the past few weeks. I was lay in bed at about 8pm and I thought "should I watch any of Arsenal vs Southampton?" No point really, Southampton were bottom of the league and overall pretty hopeless against City the other week. Close your eyes, get to sleep, big day tomorrow. Check my phone 15 minutes into the game - Southampton are winning 2-0. Oh God, it's happening isn't it? Trying to switch off didn't happen, and despite Arsenal eventually getting a point out of the game it really set up the following weeks match at The Etihad with them as a winner takes all. But first, the semi final. Went for a few pints in central London, always a good booze. The game was like a training session, Mahrez bagged a hat trick and it was all pretty easy work for City. Most of my memories around the game were going to and from Wembley on the tube thinking Sheffield United fans were complete arseholes which is a shame as a former resident of Sheffield I have always favoured them to Wednesday but there were grown men on the tube trying to send it up by singing "there's only one Alex Fergo", fucking Fergo eh? I'm glad old Fergo has been alive to see the last few weeks.
So it came to the big one, the game that had been talked about for months and months. Not quite the derby in 2012 feeling, but not a million miles away either. Got to the ground about an hour before kick off and went into that bit in the back of the South Stand where it's like Mary D's but with Asahi on draft and without songs referencing events from 65 years ago. It was electric in the ground and City played like a team completely focused on getting the job done but in style. That Kevin de Bruyne goal will be looked back upon as one of the all time greats, a big player for the big event. Like the Bayern game a few weeks earlier, an unforgettable night where the atmosphere was both intimidating and joyous and a score line which didn't flatter us at all. 4-1. Arsenal were completely cooked. They might as well have brought the trophy out at the end of the game because that was it, there was no coming back for them from this.
Another trip down to London followed, this time at a time where the trains were fucked. Went via Doncaster and then to Kings Cross - a bit longer but not a bad journey for a bit of a change. Got the tube across London and had a drink in Hammersmith - for those that haven't ever been to Fulham, it really is one of the great away games to go to as you walk down the River Thames to the small picturesque ground. Bit of a tricky game this one despite going up almost immediately, fortunately a wonder strike from Alvarez won us the points. He's not had a bad 12 months has he? I might have been wrong calling him the Argentinian John Guidetti. One of them pissed up train journeys home where you think "I bet everyone on here hates us" as we talk about the power of the Parrot once again. Stopped off in Sheffield on the way back at The Sheffield Tap at about 8pm as the sun was setting on a lovely warm day. We knew we weren't far now as that was 3 big points.
The following two games were at home, firstly to West Ham which was quite a tense affair in the first half before we turned it on in the 2nd half - the game will be known most for it being where Haaland broke the Premier League goal scoring record. Again, how is this Alfie's lad? Leeds at home a few days later I had been very kindly invited to the Chairman's Lounge. 3 course meal and free booze, fantastic. Took about 15 minutes into the match for someone to tell me off due to my language, but it was alright in the end. The game was pretty uneventful which was a good thing as I was absolutely steaming. Gundo got two goals but missed a penalty unfortunately. After the game we managed to talk them into letting us into the Tunnel Club because, you know, drinking red wine was not enough, I needed to have a cocktail as well. Saw Stuart Pearce in there and basically mumbled that he was into rock n roll, not my finest moment but better than when I was last in there and saw David O'Leary and simply pointed at him and said "David O'Leary". Unsurprisingly, I was sick when I got home and despite having all that food I woke up to a double cheeseburger and a kebab which was fully wrapped in my living room.
On the Monday I flew to Murcia, my sister lives out there and my parents have a place there and were visiting so I got a night with the family before travelling from Murcia to Madrid on the day of the game by train. I would say that going to Madrid I was still feeling quite scarred from what had happened the previous May when they beat us and knocked us out. Been to see City at Madrid 5 times now and it's still always feel like a huge occasion. A good game between two great teams and two great goals left it even going into the return leg the following week, Kevin again stepping up for City. Had a good laugh in Madrid, didn't have much time to do much pre game as I didn't get to there until about 4 hours before kick off but had a full day on the Wednesday before flying back on the Thursday. It's a great city, but I could do with a bit of a break with it after 3 times in 13 months. Happy with the result, with what we had seen over the past few weeks at The Etihad, why would you fear anyone?
Back home and back at it again on the Sunday, Everton away - always one of my favourites and I felt particularly nostalgic as I thought it could be the last time I would ever visit Goodison but although Everton are complete dogshit for another season, somehow, there has been three teams worse than them this year. Got the train there and it was a bit odd with a very different demographic than the football fans getting off the train walking past the Eurovision fans getting on trains leaving Lime Street. Had a few pints down Mathew Street, not been there for a few years - always good as a self proclaimed Beatles geek. When I walked into Goodison that afternoon there was no way I would have expected that this was the last game I was going to watch before we became champions again. And of course it was Gundogan who came up with the goods again. Two great goals from him sandwiched an assist to Haaland and City pissed it 3-0. I got a lift home from Goodison, timing with expertise a JustEat delivery from KFC within 30 seconds of exiting the car and as I chewed through my mighty bucket for one Arsenal were getting turned over by Brighton. I could taste the secret recipe from The Colonel and I could just about taste the sweet taste of winning the Premier League.
One hand on the trophy, already in the F.A. Cup final and next the second leg against Madrid. The Treble talk was becoming more of a reality but Real were going to provide us with a tough game. Similar to the Arsenal game, I got in the ground an hour early, this time I saw the end of the bus greeting - the atmosphere outside the ground was one of hope and belief. The concourse very similar. 3 swift pints pre game, 90 minutes from Istanbul. We had already reserved flights for the final, not confident enough to buy them but more than happy to pay £4.50 a day to hold them - worth every penny. What a game. The first half in particular, fucking hell, is that the best City have ever played? This Madrid team have been dominant in this tournament for years, they've had luck on their side at times but they're a great team - and we completely battered them, it was like we were playing Cambridge United, who get battered everywhere they go. Concourse at half time was fizzing, we knew that if we keep a clean sheet from here we would be in the final. Not quite as impressive in the 2nd half but Real barely got near us. 4-0, we're all going to Istanbul. A city that we have been singing about since the late summer of 2008 in hope more than expectation.
On Saturday I had organised to go on a hike up in Littleborough and then go for one or two drinks afterwards, nothing too heavy as there was a good chance that beating Chelsea the following day would win City the league, something that didn't seem likely at all until relatively recently and now we could do it with games to spare. I was sat in Cask on the New Islington Marina constantly refreshing my phone as I saw that Arsenal had gone 1 down away to Forest. Many thoughts were going through my mind, do I want to win it like this? Can you believe this is happening? Remember walking out of White Hart Lane feeling like we had fucked it? What do I do tonight? Can I book Monday off work? It ended 1-0, City were champions again. We had joined the small group of clubs who have won it 3 years in a row, something our detractors have previously said we wouldn't do. Well, we've done it, so fuck yourself. That evening I generally took it all in, watched Match of the Day and knew that the following day was going to be a great day - and it was. Out and about in town for midday, went to Cutting Room Square in Ancoats bumping into loads of people I knew. The game was forgettable, it didn't matter at all but always good to win. Tears filled my eyes as they came part my section of the South Stand, this is the 7th time I've seen us win the Premier League and I've not missed a trophy lift but it gets to me every time, all the memories my City supporting life up until being 23 are still embedded in me, and it's overwhelming to see the lads in that blue shirt walk around holding that trophy aloft. Cracking evening in The Castle afterwards with all my close mates, being told to stop singing as there was a comedian on in the next room fell on deaf ears.
The next week had two games where me and my friends had asked "maybe that could be the day/night" referring to winning the league, we had no idea it would be wrapped up by then. Still, when the Parrot calls you've got to go with it. Three of us travelled down to Brighton on the Wednesday. Lovely place, Brighton, and a really good team but fucking hell it's a long way to go, especially for a mid week game. I looked at this and Brentford a few days later as an opportunity just to enjoy myself, for so long every game I had attended for so long had been vital to win - it felt like we had been either keeping just ahead of Liverpool or chasing Arsenal in the league for about 16 months. Not much to report about the game apart from the bloke in front of us had the most outrageous Air Max trainers I've ever seen.
Brentford, a game where it seemed like it was going to be impossible to get a ticket was a complete non-event. Had a drink in Richmond before the game, what a great place especially in the sunshine with a load of mates. It was a relaxed day out in London, and I'd say I and everyone I was with made the most of it as the following week was definitely not going to be a relaxed day in London...
So the league season is done with. 1 down 2 to go. To Wembley.
I went to see Arctic Monkeys at the real Old Trafford the night before, a cracking night and really helpful in getting my mind off what was coming up the following day. As the trains were fucked I had offered to drive. Set off from Ancoats at 8am which might have been a little later than we should have left in retrospect but it was fine. Loads of traffic on the way down but got parked up at Watford Junction with enough time to get a train to Wembley Central and have a drink or two before going in the ground. The train was angin. I bumped into an old work colleague who supports United so was chatting to him and his wife as we made our way on the train and got separated from my mates, a load of United fan piled on a stop or two from Wembley and they were being their usually gobshite selves caught in that middle ground by singing songs about us meaning nothing to them and that we're irreverent but then making it really clear that they hate us. They probably thought I was one of them as I was stood next to a women with a tin foil cup with red ribbons on it. Anyway, managed to get a drink near the ground (£8 a pint in Bar 66 - not sure if Bobby Moore died for them prices) and got in the ground about 45 before kick off, bumped into loads of mates and it was great. Walked down to my seat about a minute before kick off and nothing could prepare me for what happened 12 seconds into the game.
Genuinely one of the most chaotic scenes I've ever witnessed. Bodies flying everywhere like the ball flying into the top corner. Gundo. What a fucking man. What a goal. Goals like his against Villa to win the league the previous year and of course Aguero's goal vs QPR will always be remembered for their drama and importance but this goal can only be compared to Kompany vs Leicester as far as it's ability to take your breath away and or almost require surgery on your limbs. A moment like that is what football is all about. United got one back the only way they could - by the officials having a fucking mare, just like in January. A lot of nerves on the concourse at half time, I was worried, I just didn't know if we had it in us after this never ending season to find another goal. Within 10 minutes of the 2nd half another volley from Gundo and we're back in front. Not going to be the first time you've read this or had this said but surely he is now in the conversation with the all time greats for City? He's been a constant and important performer albeit not always viewed in the same way amongst City fans and beyond comparing him to David Silva and Kevin de Bruyne. The last 10 minutes went on for as long as this blog. But the final whistle eventually blew. F.A. Cup winners, the Double. 2 down, 1 to go.
It meant so much to beat them bastards in the final. All the pre match build up about stopping us from winning the Treble, barely laid a glove on us until the 90th minute. There are always going to be comparisons between this match and the semi in 2011. I think I need a bit more time letting the dust settle on that one. As much as they like to point out that Pep hasn't got a great record against United, when it really matters he gets it done.
The next few days for me are a bit of a blur. I was still euphoric after winning the cup against United and then I was really excited for Istanbul. I don't often get excited for holidays, before Istanbul I had watched City on the continent over 35 times (36 times) but this felt like the first time. I knew so many people going, I'd chatted to so many people in the build up about what they were doing, how they were getting there, how long they were there for, I was completely swept up in it. Different to Porto and don't get me wrong I was excited for that and it was one of the best weeks I've ever had despite losing but that was in a different context due to the pandemic.
I drove us down to Stansted on Friday morning, we got a midday flight to Istanbul. A minibus took us into the centre. Good grief, the state of the traffic - I won't go on about Istanbul as a place too much in this but I thought it was a great city, one of the best I've ever been to but it was such a pig getting around that it would put me off going there again, yet I would recommend it to someone to visit - I know that can seem a bit of a contradiction but I'm sure a few people feel the same. Big booze on Friday, we started at Stansted so by the time we were on the outskirts of Nevizade Street at midnight we were well oiled, but what a sight seeing so many City fans out there.
The day of the game started with a slight qualm as my mate had lost his phone, it meant that we had to get to the ground a little earlier than we were anticipating. We jumped in a taxi to the stadium which I'm still coming to terms with now. Them drivers don't give a single fuck do they? I've never known anything as reckless in my life, how there's not crashes there every half a mile is baffling, I've basically got PTSD. It's been heavily documented but the traffic and getting anywhere near the ground was a joke, and we got there about 4 hours before kick off. Anyway, got in the fan park, my mate got his ticket situation sorted, saw loads of mates in the park which was like a Bert version of Woodstock 99 but instead of Limp Bizkit causing a riot there was some lad in his mid 20's trying to beat a women's 18 second "Agueroooooo" on stage, bizarre. Managed to get an overpriced bottle of lager off some chief selling them out of a carrier bag in a car park making what I think was a 700% increase on what he bought it for. Walked down to the ground and as expected it looked like bedlam getting in, we got in the ground about 50 minutes before kick off. Heard mixed views on the ground - I really liked it, it felt like a ground made for the big occasion and the big occasion it was.
The team was generally what you expected apart from Walker being out the team and the game sort of went how I felt it would. It's been such a long season, getting on a mini bus to Leicester for the Charity Shield in August could have been a decade ago and I'd believe you. It was always going to be a tight game, the players have too many minutes in their legs. There just had to be the moment, someone had to be the hero. I'll hold my hands up, and there are a lot of people in the same boat as me - I could not believe how much we paid for Rodri based on his first season at City. When I got back in front of my laptop on Tuesday in work I was thinking about him and John Stones, two players who have been absolute fucking heroes for three consecutive seasons and in the big moments in Istanbul they were there, I thought about that Norwich away game in September 2019. Rodri and Gundo in midfield with Stones behind them and it was a complete disasterclass, I never ever would have thought that a little under four years later these players would be icons with virtually no rivals in Manchester City's 125+ year history, Pep has obviously played a huge part in this but fair play to them, Stones especially as he seemed like he was done in the summer of 2020. But back to Rodri. For me, our most important player, the way we play is built around him and when he wants to he can turn up and deliver a big moment. In a scene not unlike Yaya Toure vs Stoke City in 2011, the ball falls to Rodri just inside the box for him to blast home. People falling all over the place, we've taken the lead in the Champions League final.
We stopped playing after the goal, and really were quite lucky to not concede - a mixture of bad finishing from Inter and Ederson, often criticised for his goal keeping abilities, making a number of top class saves. Like a week earlier, time just seemed to stand still forever, the 5 minutes of added time with a clock that's going backwards. One last corner for Inter, the keepers up. Not a Mancunian fingernail left from 20,000 sets of hands. Save from Ederson and the full time whistle goes. We're the Champions of Europe. We've won the Treble. Even typing it out now a few days later seems completely absurd. To win the Treble after winning the league 3 years on the bounce with the context of pandemics, winter world cups and shrinking squads, it's just incredible, it's unbelievable.
I spent another 36 hours in Istanbul and the feeling of ecstasy I had is something I cannot quite describe. It was and still is too much to take in. I imagine it will be a few weeks until I really can reflect on that weekend properly. There was more eating meat on skewers, more dancing round to Morrissey and more boozing - but by this point you've probably read enough about that and probably think I have a problem!
What a season. I went to 59 of the 61 games City played this season, there's no way I can do that again next year without taking on a second job. Some of the best memories I'll ever have will be from this season. I suppose the question is, where do you go from here? Well I think that's sort of how we felt in 2012, and in 2018, and in 2019, so I guess you just go again. You try to redefine what greatness is. I was at the end of season Bluemoon Podcast Live and Jack Gaughan said that this didn't feel like the end of something, it felt like the start of something even bigger. I'm not sure my mind can comprehend that.
So for 4 months of my life, from 12th February to 10th June 2023 that was my story. All the people who were with me during that time whether it be in the car, on the train, on the concourse, in the stands, on the streets of Istanbul - you know who you are and I fucking love you, you've helped shaped the best time of my life. Now, to completely switch off from football and hope England win back The Ashes. See you at Turf Moor.
