Although a large house, the furnishings were similar to any other – 20 or so CDs in a rack; family portraits on the wall; a book (a biography of Queen Elizabeth I) on the coffee table, alongside a plastic wallet containing scores of snapshots; a left-handed Rickenbacker guitar propped up against the wall. Royle said it was his son’s: ‘He’s really good, but he won’t do anything with it. I keep telling him to.’
We sat in the conservatory, overlooking a large, well-tended garden. It was bright and humid, the kind of day when it was easy to forget that winter had ever existed, and with it defeats at Lincoln or York. I had arrived before him, and he asked me to wait a few minutes while he had a shower. Just four days earlier, he had been on the pitch at Wembley, fêted by thousands, projected to icon status by television. Yet here he was, freshly showered in baggy tracksuit bottoms. His wife returned from shopping and admonished him mildly for not clearing up the mess one of the dogs had left on the kitchen floor.
At several junctures during the season, there had been – certainly among supporters – scepticism about Royle’s capability. Promotion, albeit due to Gillingham’s ineptitude from the penalty spot, had at least served to postpone this particular debate. The exhilarating victory at Wembley had suddenly put the season into a new perspective, one which was largely specious. It had been a pretty undignified slog, at least until the closing weeks. City, with their greater wealth, support and overall strength in depth, should have strolled through the division. If every game was a cup final, they should have passed the ball beyond, through and around these demons, made their enthusiasm look rash and infantile; didn’t United (at another level) do so every week?
Instead, they settled for attrition and aggression, only sporadically revealing their greater skill. This was not to say Royle and his boot-room team did not deserve their accolades. They had delivered. They had built a team and set upon a game-plan which, over the course of the season, had succeeded. Royle had taken the criticism, the complaints, the snide remarks, the misgivings about his choice of players or tactics, and refused to budge, to compromise. He had maintained that infuriating, belligerent self-belief from which great managers are cut. It didn’t matter that promotion was achieved by virtue of the play-offs and then penalties; success was habitually achieved via a convoluted, troublesome process. By whatever means, he had delivered.
On that quiet afternoon he was not boastful or conceited about the team’s success. In fact, he insisted repeatedly that it was merely the starting point. We talked for about an hour. He made no attempt to hurry along the interview, but I felt obliged to keep it relatively short because I realised it was his final piece of business for the season. He was ready, finally, to open a bottle of wine, stroll across the garden and enjoy the silence.
Saturday, 5 June 1999
Gillingham’s chairman Paul Scally called for the play-off final to be replayed when he learned that match referee Mark Halsey had been seen celebrating with City supporters just a few hours after the match. Halsey had stayed at the Wembley Hilton Hotel where many City supporters were also booked. ‘The whole idea that the match should be replayed just because the referee found himself in the company of City fans on Sunday night is completely ridiculous,’ said Chris Bird.
Sunday, 6 June 1999
The Football League announced that City would not have to replay their play-off final, but reprimanded match referee Mark Halsey. ‘There is a time and a place for everything and we shall remind him that it is unwise to mix with supporters so soon after an important match,’ said a spokesman.
Monday, 7 June 1999
Supporters were offered the chance to buy a piece of the Maine Road turf for just £10. The pitch had been cut up into 1,000 pieces ready to be re-laid over the summer. The sell-off was to raise money for the Youth Academy.
UP, UP AND BLACKBURN AWAY
(City Life, Tuesday, 9 June 1999)
A yellow blur passes by at great speed. It’s Nicky Weaver, Manchester City’s 20-year-old goalkeeper. He has just saved a penalty at Wembley and ensured his team’s promotion to Division One of the Nationwide League. It’s some celebration, half-running, half-twitching, halfway round Wembley in under 12 seconds.
Soon afterwards, David Bernstein, City’s chairman, is on the pitch. Clearly, his low-profile administration has worked well. Too well. The faithful are mystified. Eventually they realise the toff in the suit is their man and applaud generously. Bernstein demurely raises his hand. Already he is regretting that he didn’t stay in the posh seats and make use of the tartan blanket kindly supplied by Wembley. He could have mopped his brow with it because, phew, that was close.
Another season in Division Two would have been disastrous for Manchester City. The club, although the thirteenth best-supported in England, is more than £12 million in debt. The interest on the deficit is £21,000 per week. Imagine that: the equivalent of buying a brand new, top-of-the-range family car every week, just to push it into the River Irwell.
When Bernstein took over from Francis Lee in March 1998, City were like a credit card that had been passed around a few reckless mates; a new stand here, an east European full-back there, a couple of hundred executive boxes. Anyone for another drink? Put it on the tab. City’s tab that is. Bernstein’s season-long entreaty was for stability, prudence, patience and an end to the policy of indiscriminate speculation. It didn’t make for great headlines, but the quiet rationalisation, like reducing a first-team squad from 53 to 24, looked like a terminal outbreak of common sense. Many City fans were taking nervous glances at Lancashire outposts like Burnley, Blackpool and Preston North End, former football giants, and wondering whether another season in Division Two would draw them into the same quicksand of perpetual mediocrity. They need not have worried. More than 12,000 season tickets were sold before the play-off final, so City’s greatest asset – their support – would have remained regardless. As long as the support is constant, City will have the ‘foundations’ (another of the chairman’s buzz words) on which to build.
Obviously, promotion should now accelerate City’s return to the big-time. Gate receipts will improve only nominally, however, since Maine Road can hold just a few thousand more in addition to last season’s average of 28,261. The revenue leg-up of around £3 million will come via Sky TV and the corporate beano that spills over from the Premiership into Division One. Clubs like Blackburn Rovers, Fulham, Nottingham Forest, Birmingham City, Wolverhampton Wanderers and, indeed, City themselves, will give the division a certain cache next season.
An immediate tangible benefit of promotion will be the improvement in City’s negotiating power with a new club sponsor. The 12-year deal with Brother has now ended and City’s new status should push up the stakes considerably. Harsh but true, few blue-chip companies would even open talks with a club set to take their brand-name to places like Scunthorpe United and Wycombe Wanderers. On a wider issue, Bernstein now runs a club primed for takeover. This has always been the aim – to pass the club over to new owners with the financial acumen and the good of City at heart. This, potentially at least, could fast-track City to glory, though negotiations would be long and complex; there are still plenty of egos to accommodate within the City hierarchy.
So, Division One, here we come. Just watch out for a spot of bother come mid-September. City are already out of the promotion frame, and the fans are screaming for new players. Get your cheque book out, Mr Chairman. ‘Sorry, chaps, we’ve been down that road before . . .’ At this point, City’s future will once more fall into the balance.
• City Life, the listings magazine covering Greater Manchester, had asked me to contribute an article on City for their cover story about the success of both Manchester clubs.
Wednesday, 9 June 1999
Speculation grew that City were about to benefit from a major cash injection. David Bernstein said he was in talks with a ‘major institution’ who had ‘very deep pockets’. He said any deal would not amount to a takeover but would involve people who co
uld ‘work with us and continue the continuity and stability we have started’. It was rumoured that the company was the Manchester brewers, Boddingtons.
Friday, 11 June 1999
In early betting, City were quoted by Tote at 16–1 to win the Division One title. Blackburn Rovers were clear favourites at 13–8, ahead of Bolton and Fulham, who were each rated at 9–1. City were tenth favourites.
Saturday, 12 June 1999
Lee Sharpe, the former Manchester United winger, said he wanted to join City from Leeds United now they had been promoted to Division One. In March he had turned down Joe Royle, preferring instead to sign on loan to Bradford City. ‘I’ve got to be honest and say that I hated being in Division Two, so I can hardly blame Lee for feeling the same way,’ said Royle.
Sunday, 13 June 1999
Computer game company Eidos were announced as City’s new club sponsor for the next three seasons. ‘We see Manchester City as a unique property in domestic football with enormous potential for the future. Eidos is impressed with the board’s vision for the future and felt it should be part of the new era,’ said Ian Livingstone, executive chairman of Eidos.
The company was most famous for its games, Tomb Raider, UEFA Champions League and Championship Manager.
Twelve
Fiesta the Sun Also Rises
The Manchester City Internet noticeboard, MCIVTA, was inundated with supporters anxious to share their Wembley joy. Their testimonies made for emotional reading . . .
Ashley Birch: The match simply has to be the most memorable I’ve experienced as a City fan, and will most probably never be bettered as long as I live. I was driving along today and it still seems vaguely surreal. How could any team – let alone City – recover from 2–0 down with only seconds of normal time remaining? My memories are diverse: the sheer ecstasy of the equaliser; the emotion of Weaver’s last save and the victory it bestowed; the guy in the row in front who hugged me like his own mother, and the guy and his girlfriend/wife behind me with tears in their eyes.
Colin Jonas: Unbelievable. Never have Man City produced such an amazing comeback as this in all the years I’ve been following them. To do it in such an important game as this is pure fantasy. After all the recent years of misery that have been heaped on us City fans, this Sunday’s amazing performance has finally rewarded our blind loyalty. Thanks to the City fan who returned my camera and match programme that fell out while I went mad. Never have I seen City come back in such a fashion, let alone such an important game as this. Unbelievable. City are back!
Geoff Donkin: I guess this will be one of those occasions we’ll tell our grandchildren about. I had a suspicion City might make it hard for us; I’d also felt for some time that we were going to do it, but at 2–0 down with only injury time remaining I have to admit I’d given up hope. Who hadn’t? We’ve invested a lot of emotional energy in earning this the hard way and we’ve had to live with the increasing hype and media obsession with ‘that lot next door’. To have lost this game after they’d done the treble would have been a nightmare too horrible to contemplate. So, goodbye Div. 2, we hope you’ve enjoyed our brief stay but we’re on our way back to where we belong. One small step for men, one giant leap for Man City.
Toh Hsien Min: When City win the European Cup in twenty years time, I’m going to tell my children I was there at Wembley when they won promotion to the First Division in the most dramatic of matches. When Nicky Weaver saved their first and then their fourth penalty to give City victory . . . man, it was something just to have been there.
Peter Brophy: In almost a quarter of a century following the club, I thought I’d experienced more or less everything they could throw at me – from smashing the British transfer record to signing mediocre journeymen, to playing keep-ball in the corner with an eye on preserving a result which would seal relegation. On Sunday they surpassed themselves. Even if it was just the Third (in real terms) Division play-off trophy, we’ve seen a City captain go up the Wembley steps to lift a trophy for the first time since Harold Wilson was Prime Minister. And most importantly, even though making further advances will be far from easy, we’ve taken the first step on the way back. Hopefully the worst is now behind us and in my book, that’s a thought to savour.
Salt?: We were on Wembley Way when a copper said City had pulled one back. Still, we thought, no way will they get another. Next thing, we are in the car park, and the coach drivers were shouting like mad, that City had equalised, and then it was a mad dash back to the ground. Got to our block, only to find a steward there blocking our path. There were angry exchanges and a lot of verbal, then he relented and let us in.
Paul Rawling: When it went to penalties, the words of my father came back to haunt me. A blue for 55 years and ever the pessimist, he said at the start of the season – when things looked good for an instant return to Div. 1 – ‘I bet we’ll get to Wembley in the play-offs and lose to someone like Gillingham on penalties.’ At the time, I thought the gods were just prolonging the agony of defeat which made the victory all the more incredible. Even sitting watching it on TV round at my father’s and not being at Wembley itself did not take anything away from a magnificent occasion and City’s best performance for years.
Tom Ritchie: As I made my way out, a roar. Horlock had pulled one back. Big deal. As I reached the top of Wembley Way, another roar. Gillingham were victorious. But no, hundreds of people started leaping about, charging out of coaches and from the tube station, heading back to celebrate Dickov’s incredible equaliser. I stood and thought. For 87 minutes I had watched us go 2–0 down. Within three minutes of my leaving we had drawn level. So it was obvious what I had to do. Don’t go back! I found a pub and walked in to be confronted by City fans all standing silent. Shit! We’d lost in extra-time. I then glanced up at the television to see Nicky Weaver facing a penalty. I had no idea what the situation was. Seconds later, the pub erupts. ‘What’s happened?’ I stupidly asked of the hairy, bouncing Blue hanging around my neck. ‘We’re up, we’re fucking up,’ he bellowed. I let go and leaped deliriously around the room with all the other zealots. Having watched City at just about every nondescript ground in the division, I was seemingly fated to watch the last act away from the main event. It was a surreal feeling, but one I would not have changed. Someone had to make the ultimate sacrifice to ensure City got promoted, and it was just good fortune it was down to me!
John Shearer: We couldn’t get a ticket, so we went back to the Wembley Hilton. At 3 p.m., along with another 98 City fans, and none from Gillingham, we start to console ourselves. We’ve saved a lot of money. We’ve got a good, comfortable view of the television. There’s a bar, a toilet. There’s a chap next to us who flew over from Jersey just for the game. Another guy paid £80 for his City-end ticket only to find it was a forgery. Atmosphere – absolutely superbly, breathtakingly, mindblowingly, brilliant. I know I’d rather have been inside the ground, but as an alternative it was pretty damn good. Roll on Grimsby.
Derel McGarry: It is probably the most exciting City game I’ve ever heard on the radio and I love listening to Radio Five Live. Even if the tension was almost unbearable, I can’t help feeling that this game and this season have pulled the team and supporters together in a way that no other could have. Hopefully, it is onward and upward for all of us. With a very badly needed cash injection, maybe we could continue to improve our squad and get back to the big-time sooner rather than later. Well done everyone!
Stephen Hewitt: When Paul Dickov equalised you knew that you were witnessing something special, something that will be talked about for many years to come. The fans went into overdrive. With support like that there was no way City were going to lose. The Gillingham fans just couldn’t compete. The jeers and whistles that greeted each of their penalty takers were deafening. When Nicky Weaver’s save won us the match, the place went beserk. Fans stood on their seats, strangers – their shirts and scarves the only things they had in common – hugged and kissed like long-lost relatives. At o
ne stage I swear I saw a man get out of his wheel-chair and dance!
Peter Astbury: It’s Sunday morning and I’ve just woken up after having an unbelievable dream. No, it’s Monday morning and it’s true. All together now, Wem-ber-lee, Wem-ber-lee, we’re the famous Man City and we won at Wem-ber-lee (repeat several times).
Noel Bayley: A slow-burner of a match suddenly came alight in the closing minutes as Gillingham scored two goals in quick succession to silence the Northern hordes. I was ready to leave as all around me tears of sorrow flowed, but Leanne thought otherwise, protesting that she wanted to stay. I thought I knew better as I had never seen City triumph at Wembley, but with the benefit of hindsight she was right and for that I shall be eternally grateful to her. For once, the gods smiled kindly on Manchester’s only team as Paul Dickov hammered the ball into the roof of the Gillingham net in the 94th minute. This goal was greeted with the loudest roar I have ever heard in my life as those of us who stayed went wild with sheer delight. Extra-time was a mere formality. It came and went in a blink and it appeared that Gillingham were playing for penalties. I feared City were delaying the inevitable, but when it came, our players were more than equal to the penalty shoot-out, as was our goalkeeper, Nicky Weaver. Kevin Horlock, Terry Cooke and Richard Edghill all scored while Dickov somehow contrived to hit both posts without scoring. Weaver managed to save two of theirs, one went high and wide and the other hit the back of the net. Weaver’s final save was the cue for possibly the longest celebration in Wembley’s long and illustrious history as City’s team and fans came together in an unprecedented display of mutual admiration.
Mark Braude: What elation, what a feeling, what an emotional rollercoaster. And how incredible to see Captain Morrison leading the blues up the steps, the famous steps, and lifting our first piece of silverware for 23 years. This only half an hour after seemingly losing. I’ll never forget yesterday.
Blue Moon: Down Among The Dead Men With Manchester City Page 21
