Stories from Sunday?

[s1ty m]

Alright, no-one likes a long self-indulgent thread, but if you want to read, please do. It’s cathartic for me to write it as I can’t get my head around yesterday at all.

From the outside, listening in:

OK, we drove up from Coventry and arrived outside the ground at about 1. I and a mate have SCs. I brought my wife and daughter with me and a wad of cash for any willing sellers. There were none, not at least as far as I could see. My strategy was to wait until 3 and see if anyone would be offering anything at a decent price. Great strategy. My mate went in at 2.50. There were a few thousand outside and it was obvious that my brilliant strategic plan had fucked up in my face. I then made the biggest decision of my life and gave my SC to my daughter. She’s 17. I love her more than the world itself, so I couldn’t not do it. Anyway, I didn’t fancy the 2 of them outside. The crowd was clearly made up of decent people, but I couldn’t just leave them both. She was crying as she went in. That was enough for me and set me off on my rollercoaster afternoon.

The game kicked off and the missus and I milled down to the QPR end and sat on the seats outside K entrance. There was an odd roar and I thought that QPR had scored. The slow roar turned out to be QPR fans realising Stoke were winning. We walked back to City Square where there were a few people round iPads. Surreal. It dawned on me to check out my Skygo app on my phone and bugger me, it worked. A few of us huddled around the small screen and saw the action, only spoiled by a 1 minute delay! Zabs goal was a bit weird. It was not an explosion of noise, more a sort of slow build up of noise. I worked that out when I saw it was a dribbler of a goal and not a net bulger, more of a sort of slow-realisation of a goal.

Half-time. Spoke to me old man who was in Level 2. ‘Pissing it, Michael, QPR have no ambition’. Great, way to jinx it, Dad.
They equalized. It was a smaller roar, so I was totally sure who had scored. Some clowns started singing ‘Championees’. That stopped sharpish upon confirmation from a steward that it was 1-1. Shit, fucking shit. Believe it or not, I figured out there was a red card by the noises emanating from the stadium. A roar, lengthy anger and booing gave it away. I notice a woman peering in through the slats, she was waving both arms in a ‘Goodbye’ motion. Twitter confirmed the red, with the missus checking that fucking thing every 8 seconds.

We started to walk back towards K entrance. Coppers were telling us to clear the area as the club wanted everyone away. Whatever. I said we were going back to car at St Brigid’s school car park. As we trudged away, it went 1-2. That knowing away support roar. I heard a copper say, ‘That’s 2-1, it’ll kick off now’. The walk became slow and desperate. Passed a silent Mary D’s, utterly lost and disconsolate. We couldn’t speak. Horrible. Back in the car, 15 minutes left. We listened for 7 or 8 minutes before turning off and driving to a spot virtually outside Mary D’s, figuring Graham and Clare would be solemnly trudging back any time soon. I parked facing away from the stadium. What followed was something I’ve never seen before and maybe never will.
There was this noise. It’s hard to articulate what it sounded like. There were maybe 300 people suddenly out of the street, literally screaming. It was almost primeval, animal, crazy. I could see it all in my wing mirror. I got out of the car with a sense of fear, initially. I mean, WTF was going on. There were people yelling, hugging, dancing and wailing. Raw emotion, utterly bizarre. I told the missus that 2-2 was no good. Then I thought maybe Sunderland had scored. What I did know was that these were people going mad for a very special reason and hope suddenly welled up. One bloke ran by screaming ‘3 fucking 2’. On went the radio! Well, you know the rest. Some random stranger, City fan, stopped and asked what was going on. I didn’t know what to do or say as I’d just sort of lost it in the space of 30 seconds. The next sound was the commentator screaming that we’d won. The missus kept pointing at Twitter, saying that it was still 2-2. Me and said random bloke danced and screamed. People came out of the houses, people fell out of Mary D’s. You had to see it, it was like carnage in the street. Some bloke had a bottle of champagne, spraying it from his balcony. Madness. Wonderful. Unforgettable.

The 2 ticketed ones returned about 45 minutes later. Clare said that she had been hugged and kissed by hundreds. She was born a blue. She was 4 when the wife and I went to the Gillingham game. Now she understand why this club mean to me what they do. After those two ladies, City are it.

Got back at about 7.45 and watched the goal for the first time. I just sat and cried. Then went out a got pissed. Tonight I’ve got it all to come. Watch the game for the first time, Jeff and the boys (recorded both full programmes), MOTD and some You Tube shit I’ve collected today. Oh, and the parade.

This club are amazing. They are a cult. Unique.

So, I was there. Kind of. 3 season tickets next year. Absolutely.

Any other stories?

Michael.

[bigblue]

skipped breakfast, had about 10 pints in 2 hours, many shots to celebrate after. The bar was about 50 scum fans, 20 apuds, 20 arse, and 10 City fans. Loved the rags were singing "championes" song with about 5 mins to go, when we scored when mental of course!! Scum fans cleared out asap, we were taking the complete piss out of them loving the moment!

completely shitfaced walking through DC in the middle of the day, still getting over the hangover. completely worth it, will never forget!!!!!! CTID

[Im_Spartacus]

Excellent post mate, and glad you got your reward for giving your ticket up.

That post there, thats what being a blue is all about......and you know what, in the years to come and the story ages, your story will be more interesting than the story of the day of the majority of the 45000 blues inside the stadium

[PeterParker]

I woke up at 2881 km away from our stadium, had breakfast and while i was taking my time, with my coffee, i started realising what day it was and how important it was.
I didn't felt that good, had many butterflies in my stomach, but in a bad way. The food tasted bad, the water didn't looked good, i tried having a pin, but after a sip a had given up. I was too emotional.

At about 3 o clock (1 o'clock UK hour) i started having a bad feeling, i was convinced we will lose it, don't know why. I was buzzing. I calmed down and started looking for streams with the game, while my tv was connected on Sky. The first bad news was that the local tv station that has the rights for every big league, will have double coverage from us and filth. By the time the game started, all the rivers on the internet were down, don't know how to fuck that happend, but i was gutted.

So my living room flat was on Digi Sport, my berdroom tv was on Sky International & my pc was on with Soccer Sunday with Merson and co. All of them had the volume up so it was like hell.

I was nervous as fuck, but the game started, after just one minute i was upset that we haven't scored yet & i had to watch the start of the game from Stadium of Light.

The minutes went on, the rivers were out so the news were horrible, Shrek just scored and i haven't seen not even 5 minutes from our game. Then Zaba scored. I jumped like hell, screamed but i was convinced that we need another one to seal the game. Then Yaya went off. I wasen't that worried, i thought we can handle the pressure, even thought Bolton had 2-1.

At half time i was thinking that Hughes will shout at his lads, will put pressure on them, will have a Pacino type of speech to motivate them, so i started to get a bit worried, but when Kun had that opportunity right in the start of the second half, i was convinced we will win it. How wrong was i? Lesco had that ... moment and they scored. I didn't shout at him, i was a bit shocked, but i think i was sure we will score again. Lucky for me, the local station decided to concentrate on us in the second half, while they had maybe just 8 minutes from Sunderland.

When Barton was sent off i was buzzing. I started swearing and showing the middle finger and "wanker" sign to the tv and i was thinking that we will win 5-1, but then that fucker Mackie decided to score. (meanwhile i've connected with the official site for the radio commentary from BBC)

When Mackie scored, i was devastated, shocked and every fucking word in the dictionary. I sat down on the living floor, with my head in my hands and every single moment of the season passed in front of my eyes. Untill Mario had that opportunity, i was convinced that the curse had done it again, i was convinced that my texts to my rag friends (that i''ve sent the past month) were the reason we fucked things up, i was convinced that we were considered champs a bit early.

I've talked to God a couple of times, asked him why me, what did i do to deserve this, why didn't he let it all slip away after the Arsenal game. My fiancee called me to ask the score, i said it then hung up. Then Edin scored. No reaction. That goal was worst that a knife in the heart. I prefered QPR would have won it. "IT's Sporting all over"" i said to myself and when Shaunie went with the ball right by the line and Nasri slipped away, i was convinced it was all over.

Then hell happend. Saw Mario passing the ball to Kun and i slowly started getting up from the floor and when the shot left his foot and stopped in the net, i had a couple of seconds of silence with my heart shouting "Wtf just happend?!?!" and then i went fucking berserk. SHouting, crying, running, all that missed was me going on the ceiling, because the rest were like scenes from the Exorcist. I grabbed the phone while running and cried and phone my miss and while bubbling i told her that we won it and hung up. I was in heaven. Better than Sex, better than anything that i've seen in my life.

Then i had a half an hour to recover and then started to text everyfuckingoneiknow.

I think i had a couple of heart attacks and died three times or even more.

But did i loved it? Everyfucking second (since the 91 minute)

[mr_nool]

Alright, no-one likes a long self-indulgent thread, but if you want to read, please do. It’s cathartic for me to write it as I can’t get my head around yesterday at all.

From the outside, listening in:

OK, we drove up from Coventry and arrived outside the ground at about 1. I and a mate have SCs. I brought my wife and daughter with me and a wad of cash for any willing sellers. There were none, not at least as far as I could see. My strategy was to wait until 3 and see if anyone would be offering anything at a decent price. Great strategy. My mate went in at 2.50. There were a few thousand outside and it was obvious that my brilliant strategic plan had fucked up in my face. I then made the biggest decision of my life and gave my SC to my daughter. She’s 17. I love her more than the world itself, so I couldn’t not do it. Anyway, I didn’t fancy the 2 of them outside. The crowd was clearly made up of decent people, but I couldn’t just leave them both. She was crying as she went in. That was enough for me and set me off on my rollercoaster afternoon.

The game kicked off and the missus and I milled down to the QPR end and sat on the seats outside K entrance. There was an odd roar and I thought that QPR had scored. The slow roar turned out to be QPR fans realising Stoke were winning. We walked back to City Square where there were a few people round iPads. Surreal. It dawned on me to check out my Skygo app on my phone and bugger me, it worked. A few of us huddled around the small screen and saw the action, only spoiled by a 1 minute delay! Zabs goal was a bit weird. It was not an explosion of noise, more a sort of slow build up of noise. I worked that out when I saw it was a dribbler of a goal and not a net bulger, more of a sort of slow-realisation of a goal.

Half-time. Spoke to me old man who was in Level 2. ‘Pissing it, Michael, QPR have no ambition’. Great, way to jinx it, Dad.
They equalized. It was a smaller roar, so I was totally sure who had scored. Some clowns started singing ‘Championees’. That stopped sharpish upon confirmation from a steward that it was 1-1. Shit, fucking shit. Believe it or not, I figured out there was a red card by the noises emanating from the stadium. A roar, lengthy anger and booing gave it away. I notice a woman peering in through the slats, she was waving both arms in a ‘Goodbye’ motion. Twitter confirmed the red, with the missus checking that fucking thing every 8 seconds.

We started to walk back towards K entrance. Coppers were telling us to clear the area as the club wanted everyone away. Whatever. I said we were going back to car at St Brigid’s school car park. As we trudged away, it went 1-2. That knowing away support roar. I heard a copper say, ‘That’s 2-1, it’ll kick off now’. The walk became slow and desperate. Passed a silent Mary D’s, utterly lost and disconsolate. We couldn’t speak. Horrible. Back in the car, 15 minutes left. We listened for 7 or 8 minutes before turning off and driving to a spot virtually outside Mary D’s, figuring Graham and Clare would be solemnly trudging back any time soon. I parked facing away from the stadium. What followed was something I’ve never seen before and maybe never will.
There was this noise. It’s hard to articulate what it sounded like. There were maybe 300 people suddenly out of the street, literally screaming. It was almost primeval, animal, crazy. I could see it all in my wing mirror. I got out of the car with a sense of fear, initially. I mean, WTF was going on. There were people yelling, hugging, dancing and wailing. Raw emotion, utterly bizarre. I told the missus that 2-2 was no good. Then I thought maybe Sunderland had scored. What I did know was that these were people going mad for a very special reason and hope suddenly welled up. One bloke ran by screaming ‘3 fucking 2’. On went the radio! Well, you know the rest. Some random stranger, City fan, stopped and asked what was going on. I didn’t know what to do or say as I’d just sort of lost it in the space of 30 seconds. The next sound was the commentator screaming that we’d won. The missus kept pointing at Twitter, saying that it was still 2-2. Me and said random bloke danced and screamed. People came out of the houses, people fell out of Mary D’s. You had to see it, it was like carnage in the street. Some bloke had a bottle of champagne, spraying it from his balcony. Madness. Wonderful. Unforgettable.

The 2 ticketed ones returned about 45 minutes later. Clare said that she had been hugged and kissed by hundreds. She was born a blue. She was 4 when the wife and I went to the Gillingham game. Now she understand why this club mean to me what they do. After those two ladies, City are it.

Got back at about 7.45 and watched the goal for the first time. I just sat and cried. Then went out a got pissed. Tonight I’ve got it all to come. Watch the game for the first time, Jeff and the boys (recorded both full programmes), MOTD and some You Tube shit I’ve collected today. Oh, and the parade.

This club are amazing. They are a cult. Unique.

So, I was there. Kind of. 3 season tickets next year. Absolutely.

Any other stories?

Michael.

That was a great read, mate!

[Sister of fu]

As some of you will be aware I got stuck on a 4 day hen do in the dorm and it was looking like I would be stuck there for the game with a return on Monday evening. As soon as I was told on Thursday that the parade would be Monday I made a decision that I was booking a flight out on Sunday morning as I was not missing the whole thing.

I then had to make the heart breaking decision to get my ticket back off my brother. I tried every avenue I could to find him a ticket but alas I just couldn't find one. I have never felt so bad about anything in my life as I did about doing that.

Anyway I woke up at 6am in Benidorm (hell on earth) after going to bed at 3.30am. Due to the nature of what was at stake i had one half of lager all night. I packed my shit up and walked through the streets to wait for a 7am transfer to the airport. My girlfriend had booked this for me the day before so I was shitting myself thinking the fucker wouldn't turn up and I would miss my 11am flight back to Manchester. Three bloody coaches rocked up and disappeared up the street not one being mine. Finally one turned up and he let me on, I'm pretty sure it wasn't mine but who gives a fook if it gets you to where you need too be.

I got in the airport and was shattered but didn't dare sleep as I didn't want to miss my plane. My flight was on time and to add to the day the pilot did his little chat and said he would have us home to watch the mighty blues lift the premier league title......was it a sign????

Was back in Manchester for 1.15pm and in the birds car for 1.20pm. Happy days. At the Townley for 2pm for a well earned can of red bull. Onto the game......

What can be said. There is not one thing in the whole world that can put you through the range of emotions that City did yesterday. From mass hysteria to the complete depths of despair, to utter bedlam. I never thought of leaving like people did around me as I was rooted to the spot with fear. I just couldn't move. I sat down, I stood up, I turned my back, I pulled my hair, I kicked my seat. I was sat with my head in my hands when Edin got the 2nd and still didn't move despite lee doing his best to pull me up by my boot laces. He eventually got me to my feet for me to see the greatest ever moment I have had supporting City.

I started to cry as lee screamed in my ear "we've won the league, we've won the league". I didn't believe him, through my tears I said " "yeah but we have to kick off again and they may score" He just gave me a hug and laughed. And then it was over, my City, Champion's of England. The most unbelievable day of my life. By the time I was home I was drained, I couldn't speak. Yesterday will be with me until the day I die.

A plus for me is that Mark my brother had a great day also in Mary Ds and celebrated into the night in town.

[Beeks]

I genuinely think I've never experienced anything like the emotion I felt when agueros goal went in..I reckon it's possibly as close to delirium as you can get..for the next hour I spent laughing manically to myself and hugging randoms..then them manically laughing..the whole manner of the win I think just drove a sort of temporary insanity..it still makes me feel a little manic just thinking about it

[Alioune DVToure]

Alright, no-one likes a long self-indulgent thread, but if you want to read, please do. It’s cathartic for me to write it as I can’t get my head around yesterday at all.

From the outside, listening in:

OK, we drove up from Coventry and arrived outside the ground at about 1. I and a mate have SCs. I brought my wife and daughter with me and a wad of cash for any willing sellers. There were none, not at least as far as I could see. My strategy was to wait until 3 and see if anyone would be offering anything at a decent price. Great strategy. My mate went in at 2.50. There were a few thousand outside and it was obvious that my brilliant strategic plan had fucked up in my face. I then made the biggest decision of my life and gave my SC to my daughter. She’s 17. I love her more than the world itself, so I couldn’t not do it. Anyway, I didn’t fancy the 2 of them outside. The crowd was clearly made up of decent people, but I couldn’t just leave them both. She was crying as she went in. That was enough for me and set me off on my rollercoaster afternoon.

The game kicked off and the missus and I milled down to the QPR end and sat on the seats outside K entrance. There was an odd roar and I thought that QPR had scored. The slow roar turned out to be QPR fans realising Stoke were winning. We walked back to City Square where there were a few people round iPads. Surreal. It dawned on me to check out my Skygo app on my phone and bugger me, it worked. A few of us huddled around the small screen and saw the action, only spoiled by a 1 minute delay! Zabs goal was a bit weird. It was not an explosion of noise, more a sort of slow build up of noise. I worked that out when I saw it was a dribbler of a goal and not a net bulger, more of a sort of slow-realisation of a goal.

Half-time. Spoke to me old man who was in Level 2. ‘Pissing it, Michael, QPR have no ambition’. Great, way to jinx it, Dad.
They equalized. It was a smaller roar, so I was totally sure who had scored. Some clowns started singing ‘Championees’. That stopped sharpish upon confirmation from a steward that it was 1-1. Shit, fucking shit. Believe it or not, I figured out there was a red card by the noises emanating from the stadium. A roar, lengthy anger and booing gave it away. I notice a woman peering in through the slats, she was waving both arms in a ‘Goodbye’ motion. Twitter confirmed the red, with the missus checking that fucking thing every 8 seconds.

We started to walk back towards K entrance. Coppers were telling us to clear the area as the club wanted everyone away. Whatever. I said we were going back to car at St Brigid’s school car park. As we trudged away, it went 1-2. That knowing away support roar. I heard a copper say, ‘That’s 2-1, it’ll kick off now’. The walk became slow and desperate. Passed a silent Mary D’s, utterly lost and disconsolate. We couldn’t speak. Horrible. Back in the car, 15 minutes left. We listened for 7 or 8 minutes before turning off and driving to a spot virtually outside Mary D’s, figuring Graham and Clare would be solemnly trudging back any time soon. I parked facing away from the stadium. What followed was something I’ve never seen before and maybe never will.
There was this noise. It’s hard to articulate what it sounded like. There were maybe 300 people suddenly out of the street, literally screaming. It was almost primeval, animal, crazy. I could see it all in my wing mirror. I got out of the car with a sense of fear, initially. I mean, WTF was going on. There were people yelling, hugging, dancing and wailing. Raw emotion, utterly bizarre. I told the missus that 2-2 was no good. Then I thought maybe Sunderland had scored. What I did know was that these were people going mad for a very special reason and hope suddenly welled up. One bloke ran by screaming ‘3 fucking 2’. On went the radio! Well, you know the rest. Some random stranger, City fan, stopped and asked what was going on. I didn’t know what to do or say as I’d just sort of lost it in the space of 30 seconds. The next sound was the commentator screaming that we’d won. The missus kept pointing at Twitter, saying that it was still 2-2. Me and said random bloke danced and screamed. People came out of the houses, people fell out of Mary D’s. You had to see it, it was like carnage in the street. Some bloke had a bottle of champagne, spraying it from his balcony. Madness. Wonderful. Unforgettable.

The 2 ticketed ones returned about 45 minutes later. Clare said that she had been hugged and kissed by hundreds. She was born a blue. She was 4 when the wife and I went to the Gillingham game. Now she understand why this club mean to me what they do. After those two ladies, City are it.

Got back at about 7.45 and watched the goal for the first time. I just sat and cried. Then went out a got pissed. Tonight I’ve got it all to come. Watch the game for the first time, Jeff and the boys (recorded both full programmes), MOTD and some You Tube shit I’ve collected today. Oh, and the parade.

This club are amazing. They are a cult. Unique.

So, I was there. Kind of. 3 season tickets next year. Absolutely.

Any other stories?

Michael.

Sorry I couldn't sort you out with a ticket again like the last game last season!

To be honest I'm pretty envious that you can get 3G within 100 yards of the ground. It's a proper tortuous experience trying to get internet where I sit.

[gilford]

The tickets we bought at a charity event last Xmas turned out to be QPR management, this resulted in away seats and me in a City shirt and refused entry.......

After a bit of blagging and a bit of luck for having a shirt on I wa told by security if I buttoned it up to the top and sat on my hands all game they would let me in.

It was the strangest 95mins of my life, but the last 5 were the best! To be fair the QPR fans were chearing us to win after the news from Stoke came through.

What a day though!

[s1ty m]

Excellent post mate, and glad you got your reward for giving your ticket up.

That post there, thats what being a blue is all about......and you know what, in the years to come and the story ages, your story will be more interesting than the story of the day of the majority of the 45000 blues inside the stadium

Thanks mate. It was a tough decision, for sure. I think I'd decided beforehand anyway that I'd give it to her.

[s1ty m]

Alright, no-one likes a long self-indulgent thread, but if you want to read, please do. It’s cathartic for me to write it as I can’t get my head around yesterday at all.

From the outside, listening in:

OK, we drove up from Coventry and arrived outside the ground at about 1. I and a mate have SCs. I brought my wife and daughter with me and a wad of cash for any willing sellers. There were none, not at least as far as I could see. My strategy was to wait until 3 and see if anyone would be offering anything at a decent price. Great strategy. My mate went in at 2.50. There were a few thousand outside and it was obvious that my brilliant strategic plan had fucked up in my face. I then made the biggest decision of my life and gave my SC to my daughter. She’s 17. I love her more than the world itself, so I couldn’t not do it. Anyway, I didn’t fancy the 2 of them outside. The crowd was clearly made up of decent people, but I couldn’t just leave them both. She was crying as she went in. That was enough for me and set me off on my rollercoaster afternoon.

The game kicked off and the missus and I milled down to the QPR end and sat on the seats outside K entrance. There was an odd roar and I thought that QPR had scored. The slow roar turned out to be QPR fans realising Stoke were winning. We walked back to City Square where there were a few people round iPads. Surreal. It dawned on me to check out my Skygo app on my phone and bugger me, it worked. A few of us huddled around the small screen and saw the action, only spoiled by a 1 minute delay! Zabs goal was a bit weird. It was not an explosion of noise, more a sort of slow build up of noise. I worked that out when I saw it was a dribbler of a goal and not a net bulger, more of a sort of slow-realisation of a goal.

Half-time. Spoke to me old man who was in Level 2. ‘Pissing it, Michael, QPR have no ambition’. Great, way to jinx it, Dad.
They equalized. It was a smaller roar, so I was totally sure who had scored. Some clowns started singing ‘Championees’. That stopped sharpish upon confirmation from a steward that it was 1-1. Shit, fucking shit. Believe it or not, I figured out there was a red card by the noises emanating from the stadium. A roar, lengthy anger and booing gave it away. I notice a woman peering in through the slats, she was waving both arms in a ‘Goodbye’ motion. Twitter confirmed the red, with the missus checking that fucking thing every 8 seconds.

We started to walk back towards K entrance. Coppers were telling us to clear the area as the club wanted everyone away. Whatever. I said we were going back to car at St Brigid’s school car park. As we trudged away, it went 1-2. That knowing away support roar. I heard a copper say, ‘That’s 2-1, it’ll kick off now’. The walk became slow and desperate. Passed a silent Mary D’s, utterly lost and disconsolate. We couldn’t speak. Horrible. Back in the car, 15 minutes left. We listened for 7 or 8 minutes before turning off and driving to a spot virtually outside Mary D’s, figuring Graham and Clare would be solemnly trudging back any time soon. I parked facing away from the stadium. What followed was something I’ve never seen before and maybe never will.
There was this noise. It’s hard to articulate what it sounded like. There were maybe 300 people suddenly out of the street, literally screaming. It was almost primeval, animal, crazy. I could see it all in my wing mirror. I got out of the car with a sense of fear, initially. I mean, WTF was going on. There were people yelling, hugging, dancing and wailing. Raw emotion, utterly bizarre. I told the missus that 2-2 was no good. Then I thought maybe Sunderland had scored. What I did know was that these were people going mad for a very special reason and hope suddenly welled up. One bloke ran by screaming ‘3 fucking 2’. On went the radio! Well, you know the rest. Some random stranger, City fan, stopped and asked what was going on. I didn’t know what to do or say as I’d just sort of lost it in the space of 30 seconds. The next sound was the commentator screaming that we’d won. The missus kept pointing at Twitter, saying that it was still 2-2. Me and said random bloke danced and screamed. People came out of the houses, people fell out of Mary D’s. You had to see it, it was like carnage in the street. Some bloke had a bottle of champagne, spraying it from his balcony. Madness. Wonderful. Unforgettable.

The 2 ticketed ones returned about 45 minutes later. Clare said that she had been hugged and kissed by hundreds. She was born a blue. She was 4 when the wife and I went to the Gillingham game. Now she understand why this club mean to me what they do. After those two ladies, City are it.

Got back at about 7.45 and watched the goal for the first time. I just sat and cried. Then went out a got pissed. Tonight I’ve got it all to come. Watch the game for the first time, Jeff and the boys (recorded both full programmes), MOTD and some You Tube shit I’ve collected today. Oh, and the parade.

This club are amazing. They are a cult. Unique.

So, I was there. Kind of. 3 season tickets next year. Absolutely.

Any other stories?

Michael.

Sorry I couldn't sort you out with a ticket again like the last game last season!

To be honest I'm pretty envious that you can get 3G within 100 yards of the ground. It's a proper tortuous experience trying to get internet where I sit.

Yes, that jogged my memory. It's all your fault!

3G is hopeless at the best of times. We got about 25 minutes of the first half, though the delay was about 1 minute, so pretty much useless. I usually have no connection at all in the ground (Orange), even there it shows all bars, but for some reason we were able to text Clare inside on Sunday. Bizarre.

Take care mate.

[Bear60]

As some of you will be aware I got stuck on a 4 day hen do in the dorm and it was looking like I would be stuck there for the game with a return on Monday evening. As soon as I was told on Thursday that the parade would be Monday I made a decision that I was booking a flight out on Sunday morning as I was not missing the whole thing.

I then had to make the heart breaking decision to get my ticket back off my brother. I tried every avenue I could to find him a ticket but alas I just couldn't find one. I have never felt so bad about anything in my life as I did about doing that.

Anyway I woke up at 6am in Benidorm (hell on earth) after going to bed at 3.30am. Due to the nature of what was at stake i had one half of lager all night. I packed my shit up and walked through the streets to wait for a 7am transfer to the airport. My girlfriend had booked this for me the day before so I was shitting myself thinking the fucker wouldn't turn up and I would miss my 11am flight back to Manchester. Three bloody coaches rocked up and disappeared up the street not one being mine. Finally one turned up and he let me on, I'm pretty sure it wasn't mine but who gives a fook if it gets you to where you need too be.

I got in the airport and was shattered but didn't dare sleep as I didn't want to miss my plane. My flight was on time and to add to the day the pilot did his little chat and said he would have us home to watch the mighty blues lift the premier league title......was it a sign????

Was back in Manchester for 1.15pm and in the birds car for 1.20pm. Happy days. At the Townley for 2pm for a well earned can of red bull. Onto the game......

What can be said. There is not one thing in the whole world that can put you through the range of emotions that City did yesterday. From mass hysteria to the complete depths of despair, to utter bedlam. I never thought of leaving like people did around me as I was rooted to the spot with fear. I just couldn't move. I sat down, I stood up, I turned my back, I pulled my hair, I kicked my seat. I was sat with my head in my hands when Edin got the 2nd and still didn't move despite lee doing his best to pull me up by my boot laces. He eventually got me to my feet for me to see the greatest ever moment I have had supporting City.

I started to cry as lee screamed in my ear "we've won the league, we've won the league". I didn't believe him, through my tears I said " "yeah but we have to kick off again and they may score" He just gave me a hug and laughed. And then it was over, my City, Champion's of England. The most unbelievable day of my life. By the time I was home I was drained, I couldn't speak. Yesterday will be with me until the day I die.

A plus for me is that Mark my brother had a great day also in Mary Ds and celebrated into the night in town.

And you had a Bear hug from me.

[Feed The Goat]

I went out with little Shaun and met the lads in paramount for breakfast around 10.30 early start because we wanted to get to the ground early to soak up the atmosphere get a programme and get in the ground.

As you may of read in an earlier thread I didn't have a ticket for my lad he's 7 and my dear old dad Piccs decided that the morning of the game was a relevant time to relay his fears that Shaun might not get in so as you can imagine I was really on edge. We got to the gate and I picked him up and the steward bird asked do you both have tickets? I showed mine and Shaun's city card membership thing and buzzed us both through with my season card.

The day was ace we all had the best time and to top it off my brother who had no ticket managed to appear on our row at the end to watch us parade the trophy so it was the 4 of us grandad Piccs me my brother and son.

Class