Another Thing City Have Ruined
As we all know, Sheikh Mansour’s takeover of Manchester City ruined football. But the influx of oil money into East Manchester has had another unfortunate consequence; it’s also ruined my ability to have a decent conversation about my home city when I’m abroad.
I used to enjoy telling people I was from Manchester when overseas. Often the conversation would turn to music. Like the time I was in a deserted backstreet bar in a Spanish resort during the off season. The barman’s eyes lit up when I told him my home town. He disappeared, and quickly returned with a mix tape of Manchester music, pre-Oasis. And so we bonded over Joy Division and the Happy Mondays. “So is Shameless realistic?” was another I used to get in the States. It always led to a good conversation.
But oil money ruined all that.
Last summer I went to a Portland Timbers game at Providence Park. The ticket only cost around $15, and allowed me to sit on any spot on the benches behind the goal. The stand used to be part of a baseball stadium, and its sturdy roof bounced the sound back at us. Football is still predominately a spectator sport over there. Hardly anyone watches American soccer on TV. Fans just want to create they type of atmosphere they’ve seen in Premier League games.
As I took my seat, the 25,000 crowd were generating a fantastic sound—English-style chanting to the beat of giant drums and a brass section. Better than Premier League grounds nowadays, I thought, as I sipped my beer contentedly.
Then the guy next to me asked me where I was from.
“Manchester? Oh I love City,” he announced. “Barcelona are my team but I really love City.”
He looked to be in his early thirties, and a close-talker. Not a good thing so soon after lockdown. “So have you not supported them long?” he asked.
“No, I’ve supported them for the last 48 years,” I replied. He stared at my face skepticly. I do look annoyingly young for my 57 years, I’ll admit. But I sensed he was also trying to grasp the concept of supporting the same team for nearly half a century. It also became clear he was also determined to make the most of his time with a home-grown City fan.
I think he’d downloaded the entire content of Twitter into his central cortex as he then explained to me why Haaland would struggle to score goals under Pep’s system, and why Pep hadn’t won the Champions League with City. He was also drunk, so repeated his two theories in a loop until half-time came. “Just gonna get a beer,” I said, before relocating to another part of the stand.
Everyone’s got a theory about City nowadays, and feel obliged to share it with you. The tipping point came a couple of weeks later. But this time it was United’s fault. I was having a cigarette outside my girlfriend’s Portalnd apartment building, when a group of young guys struck up a conversation.
“Hey, where are you from?” one of them asked.
“Manchester.”
“Awesome. So are you a fan of Manchester United?”
“No, I support the other team.”
“What? Liverpool?”
Since then, whenever I’m abroad I tell people I’m from Stoke. If anyone asks I just explain that it’s a place people don’t like to visit when it’s raining.