One Step Closer To Heaven

Any minute now I’m gonna wake up. I’m gonna wake up, rub the sleep out of my eyes and realise it’s still 2007 and the last five years have all been a wonderful dream. I’m gonna wake up and Stuart Pearce will still be City manager, we’ll still have a hopeless team and no money, and Danny Mills will be on the verge of signing a new 5-year contract.

As ridiculous as that sounds, I can’t help but feel as though everything’s just a bit too good to be true at the moment and it really wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest should City do what they do best next Sunday and bring us crashing back down to earth with a sickening thud.

I guess it’s just the rampant pessimist in me talking, an unfortunate character trait developed almost entirely as a result of my connection to this Godforsaken club over the years and one that will probably never leave me. I’ve become so accustomed to misery and frustration that I’m now able to automatically man the emotional barricades in preparation for the worst case scenario. I expect little from this club and thus, I’m rarely disappointed.

But I should have plenty of reasons to be optimistic and confident in the ability of this City side. Last Sunday’s visit to Newcastle was undoubtedly one of the biggest games of the season and arguably one of the biggest games in the club’s history, yet City won 2-0 with a consummate ease and professionalism virtually unknown to an entire generation of Blues.

It was, as expected, a tense and nervous affair with much at stake for both sides and for an hour there was little to separate them. But then, with 62 minutes on the clock, came the magic moment and one which should probably be reason enough for Roberto Mancini to go down in City folklore as one of the club’s greatest ever tactical masterminds. Off came Samir Nasri and on came Nigel de Jong, an oft-used move which unleashed the unrelenting force of Yaya Toure on Newcastle’s defence like a horny sailor on shore leave.

Within 10 minutes the Ivorian behemoth had shot his load with a beautiful 20-yard curling effort past Magpies’ goalkeeper Tim Krul, sending the travelling City fans and those watching at home into raptures. And then, with a few minutes of a hard fought contest remaining, a swift City counter attack ended with the ball at Yaya’s feet on the edge of Newcastle’s six-yard box and he coolly slotted home his second of the afternoon, moving the Blues one step closer to a first league title in 44 long, cold, hard years.

There’s an endless list of superlatives which could be used to describe City’s number 42 and I’ll never forget the awe inspiring moment in which I first truly experienced the amazing physical specimen that is Gnegneri Yaya Toure.

It was away at Sunderland last season, a game in which City rather typically snatched defeat from the jaws of victory by going down 1-0 thanks to a Darren Bent penalty in the last minute of added time. The moment I’m referring to came early in the first half. A Sunderland corner was cleared to somewhere around the middle of City’s half of the pitch and both Yaya and Lee Cattermole went off in pursuit of the loose ball. Despite his opponent having at least a 10-yard head start, a superhuman burst of pace and power enabled Yaya to reach the ball first and carry on down the field like a runaway train, leaving Lee ‘Clatter-em-all’ flailing in the distance. Yaya’s run would take him the full length of the pitch and into the Sunderland penalty area where he unselfishly squared the ball to Carlos Tevez who...well, the less said about that the better.

Yaya’s part in that move was amazing to watch and I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say that I’d never seen anything like it or anyone like him before, certainly not in the Premier League anyway.

Pretty astonishing considering we’d been told the player we were signing two summers ago was an overpaid, overrated, crab-like defensive midfield mercenary, and it was only the first of many breathtaking demonstrations of Yaya’s ability in a City shirt since then. The man is a bona fide lethal weapon and seems to possess an unprecedented and unmatched combination of power and supreme skill with the ball at his feet. He may not be regarded as the best player in the world at the moment, but I honestly don’t think I’d swap him for anyone such is his importance to this team.

For many City fans, the greatest feeling associated with the glory of winning the title this season will be sweet vindication. Since the club’s takeover in 2008, critics and detractors from the press, the public and the game itself have gleefully formed a disorderly queue to throw huge quantities of bile and shit at City’s good name for a number of reasons, some justified, some not. It’s delightful to think that many of those haters and naysayers could be wolfing down a nice big slice of humble pie at 5pm next Sunday if all goes to plan.

The man who has possibly had to bear the brunt of much of that criticism since his arrival at the club is the aforementioned Yaya Toure, thanks largely to the widely reported yet completely unqualified estimate of the size of his wage packet (between £200K and £300K a week depending which tabloid newspaper you buy to wipe your arse with). It's satisfying then, to think that Yaya has resoundingly answered his critics and played a crucial part in the club’s transformation over the past couple of seasons. Last year his winning goal at Wembley in the FA Cup Semi-Final delivered the first in a series of fight back slaps to our perennial school bullies United, and it was fitting that he was also the scorer of the goal which ended City’s 35-year trophy drought on the same ground a few weeks later. One year on and we find ourselves on the precipice of greatness again thanks to the goals of that man. If anyone has been worth their exorbitant salary, it’s Yaya.

And if he scores the goal that wins City the game and the title against QPR next Sunday I’ll be fronting a passionate campaign to have a Yaya Touré statue erected in Piccadilly Gardens (in place of the Sir Robert Peel one. What’s he ever done for Manchester anyway?) because it’s the least he’ll deserve in my eyes.

Next Sunday’s game against QPR presents one final test on the road to title glory and it’s one that City will be expected to pass. It’s a fixture which shouldn’t be taken lightly, however, against an opposition potentially in need of a result to ensure their Premier League status again next season (unless Bolton don’t win at Stoke, in which case QPR will be safe even if they lose). The away side are likely to field a team containing more than one ex-City player with a point to prove backed by a manager who (if you listen to Sir Alex Ferguson, which I don’t) was “unethically” relieved from his position as City manager a couple of years ago (he spent millions of pounds and drew seven games in succession. He deserved to be sacked. Case...fucking...closed.) and will supposedly therefore be out for revenge.

It won’t be an easy game for City but if they manage to win or at least match second-placed United’s result away at Sunderland they should have done enough to be crowned champions at the close of play. All things considered, it’s been a pretty crazy season and I’m praying to God that we don’t see another twist of fate on the final day. I have noticed, however, that William Hill are offering odds of 500/1 on United to win 10-0 at Sunderland, which when you consider that Wes ‘OG’ Brown and several other United alumni will be lining up for the opposition on Sunday, is probably worth a few quid of anyone’s money. 

I suppose that’s just my way of insuring myself against possible heartbreak though...isn’t it?

We Hate It When Our Friends Become Successful

It was a game that was rightfully billed as “the biggest Manchester derby of all time” and a certain sports news network even went so far as to call it “the biggest game in the history of the Premier League”. 

And with somewhere between 400 and 650 million worldwide viewers reportedly tuning for Monday’s table topping clash between City and United, they might’ve had a point.

It was quite typical then, that in terms of entertainment value, the game itself flattered to deceive somewhat. It was a fast paced yet cagey affair between two very evenly matched groups of players with everything at stake. For City, however, there was absolutely nothing anti-climactic about the result.

A solitary Vincent Kompany headed goal on the stroke of half time was enough to decide a tense encounter and the improbable dream of just a few short weeks ago is now being realised before our very eyes. City, eight points adrift of United not long ago, somehow find themselves back at the top of the league on goal difference with just two games remaining and the title is undoubtedly ours to lose again.

But if City’s dream of winning the Premier League title felt improbable a few weeks ago, it was nothing compared to the seeming impossibility of the task in years past.

Should the Blues go on to lift the coveted trophy on the 13^th of May, the “the biggest game in the history of the Premier League” will correctly be remembered as one of the most momentous occasions in this club’s history too. And as the final whistle sounded and the Etihad Stadium erupted on Monday night, there was something very ethereal about it all. It wasn’t that long ago that the idea of conquering United, our most fierce and bitter rivals, to potentially win the league title seemed like an inconceivable fantasy for City fans. The dream is now becoming a reality.

Despite what Gabrielle would have us believe, in life, it's extremely rare that dreams come true. Most people are willing to accept that our time on this earth cannot always fulfil our greatest hopes and ambitions and sometimes you should just be thankful for what you’ve got. Other people are more optimistic about their potential in life and very occasionally their faith and hard work is rewarded.

One of the most wonderful things about football however, is that it’s a game which can provide those life-affirming moments and often does. Indeed, many supporters subconsciously go so far as to use the glory of their team as compensation for the general disappointment which accompanies their personal lives.

In my experience, City fans have always genetically been an expectant yet humble lot. We maintained our faith and devotion throughout the darkest of times but never lost sight of our ambitions for our team. To the realists amongst us, however, the extent of those ambitions stretched no further than the occasional Carling Cup run or a place in the top six come the end of the season. The idea that we would one day see our team win the Premier League or the Champions League was hardly even worth contemplating such was the extreme unlikelihood of fulfilment. 

But here we are, on the brink of that dream and make no mistake, we know exactly how we got here and how lucky we are. The impossible has been made possible by the significant investment of Sheikh Mansour and the Abu Dhabi United Group and for that we are eternally grateful.

Many detractors continue to suggest that there is a hollowness surrounding anything City achieve, that our alleged “purchase” of success (which, ironically, was the very thing we were repeatedly told we couldn’t buy a couple of years ago) is unfair and unjust. Football is often a breeding ground for mis-placed self-righteousness and I hate to say this, but these are opinions steeped in bitterness and jealousy and reek of hypocrisy, because there’s not a single football fan in the land who wouldn’t want what City fans have for their club.

Two excellent pieces regarding City’s spending by Sam Wallace in The Independent and Martin Samuel in the Daily Mail this week both perfectly summarised City’s journey from mediocrity to potential title winners and I’d urge you to read them. Something tells me those with a grudge to bear, particularly our friends in the Red half of Manchester, will choose to ignore them, however. After all, why let the facts get in the way of a good argument?

I’d like to think those capable of handling the truth will come to realise that though City’s almost incomparable financial strength has enabled them to become the force they are today, they certainly weren’t the first and won’t be the last football club to achieve success in this way. Despite the continual Pravda-like perpetuation of the myth that Manchester United’s sustained success has been achieved by pure hard work and definitely not any of that “dirty money”, a brief trawl through their own club’s history would teach a few people a thing or two and perhaps lay to rest some of that mis-guided sense of entitlement. If there’s one thing I’ve observed though, it’s that it’s rare you find a group of people so capable of collective amnesia as United fans, so I won’t be holding my breath.

It’s been a beautifully surreal few weeks to be a City fan but it’s not over yet. Newcastle away at the weekend presents a significant obstacle en route to title glory and we must be at our best to overcome it. We have nothing to celebrate yet, but we’re edging ever closer.

As supporters, we’ve endured an awful lot of shit over the years and we’ll enjoy our day in the sun, whatever anyone says. The world will be better for this...that one man scorned and covered with scars...still strove with his last ounce of courage...to reach the unreachable star.

Come on City!