Manchester City 3 v Club Brugges KA 1
UEFA Champions League - League Stage
There were no late night train services available to get me home, so out of nessescity and to break up my journey, I decided to drive to Sheffield and park up near the station (but not in the actual ‘official railway’ multistorey adjacent to it, because the prices there are bloomin’ scandalous), before catching the train ‘o’er grassy dale and lowland scene’ (or through the Peak District as the area is also called), to take in the scenery en route, via my usual preferred option when traveling across to Manchester.
Alas, I was just entering the station concourse when an incoming notification on my phone told of a cancellation that might be of interest to me. What again!? Bastards! There are a number of different train operating companies running services on my required root and my tickets weren't valid on any of them, that were available for the next couple of hours. Surely, under the circumstances, some friendly and benevolent soul would turn a blind eye and allow me to squeeze onto an alternative ‘rattler’.
Err, apparently not! I was informed, rather abruptly, by a surly railway staff member, that I’d have to send my unused tickets by post to the point of issue for a refund (Why all the hassle? It’s that I wasn't about to travel on a Qcancelled train) furthermore, I would have to buy a replacement to travel today, sans any advanced booking discount.
Pissed off and feeling ripped off, I missed the next available service too - the reason being, twenty minutes faffing about with some ‘slow’ ticket office staff. I think that they were actually *ucking (mucking) about on purpose - but won a small moral victory, over all-comers, when I ended up on the ‘pronto', thus named because it only stops at Stockport en route and reaches the Land of Mancunia far more quicky than any of it's rival services.
‘Rattler’ and ‘Pronto’ eh!? It would seem that all of this buggering about with a totally unreliable (and worsening) rail network, has gifted me with far more knowledge of the internal workings of the infrastructure than I ever wanted (or needed) to acquire… and I’ve picked up a veritable verbal arsenal of jargon and slang vocabulary, comparable to that of a time-served Ferroequinologist.
I know that at least one person reading this epistle will know the meaning of that word without having to look it up. It's the personal touches that make this: long-winded, self-indulgent, misanthropic bullshit blog, with added football content, different and more caring to any of the other online resources that cover anything even vaguely resembling the same(ish) sort of niche subjects that THE66POW does.
The first time I ever visited the Etihad Stadium, was for an international game on 22nd May 2016, which England won 2-1 v Turkey. Harry Kane and Jamie Vardy got the goals and Hakan Calhaoglu netted one for Turkey in between times. The game was part of the preparations for Euro 2016, a competition I went to, but which I have no intention of ever mentioning again. I’m still very reluctant to ever shop in Iceland again too.
A few days later we also saw England v Australia at Sunderland’s Stadium of Light. ‘Twas another 2-1 win for Roy Hodgson’s side, courtesy of goals from Marcus Rashford (whatever happened to him!?) and Wayne Rooney (a great striker who should never have gone into management 🙈), while an Eric Dier own goal gave a vociferous following of Aussies a consolation goal to celebrate.
Slightly before we arrived and alighted at Piccadilly, for the England v Turkey friendly, we spotted the ground from the carriage window and figured it didn't look too far away. So, we walked. After several “Can we just sit down and rest for a minute?” and “You said it wasn't very far!!!”, hissy-fits and kiddy denied sweets sized tantrums, from my truculent travelling sidekick, we finally arrived. She didn't come tonight… and I didn't walk 😉
Subsequent visits to the home of the current Premier League Champions - an unprecedented honour that they have now won “a record breaking foul times in a row”, as the guy on the public address reminded us all on at least twenty-seven separate occasions, across the course of the night - were far better organised and undertaken following a considerable amount of reconnaissance on my part.
Getting to the Emirates Stadium. From Manchester Piccadilly Station. By far the easiest way is to follow the numerous signs to the Metrolink, the entrance of which is inside the main station foyer. It's down the stairs, just as you come out of the sliding doors, as you exit whichever station platform you’ve arrived at.
There are only two Metro platforms. A) from which services takes you through the City Centre and in completely the opposite direction to where you want to be. And B) which is over to your left once you have reached the foot of the stairs from the main station. All services to Ashton and Ashton-under-Lyne stop at Etihad Campus. And those only running as far as Etihad Campus, well… have a bleedin’ guess.
The Etihad is only the third stop from Piccadilly, whichever tram you catch. The aforementioned three options are the only three services that leave platform (B. Mine arrived in under ten minutes, and the longest journey there only takes fifteen minutes. Simplicity itself, innit!? Self-service ticket machines are situated on the platforms, the Etihad Campus is a Zone 2 stop, £3.50 return, or a £120 fine if you get caught without one.
As you exit the platform and climb to the top of the stairs, check out the station exit approximately two-hundred yards to your left. Because that's where you will have to board the tram after the game to get back into Manchester. All services from Platform B at Piccadilly call at the Etihad.
Likewise All services to Manchester from the Etihad Campus stop call at Piccadilly en route to wherever else they might be heading (the oned to Ashton go the other way, obviously!). You will have noticed that I've mentioned stairs quite a bit, but don't be alarmed if you aren't able to climb very well, because there are numerous lifts available as well as excellent wheelchair access too.
The big CO-OP live venue is right on top of the Etihad Campus stop too (you can see it in the background of the above picture), so that's handy to know if you are going to the imminent John Cooper Clarke or/and Craig David performances. You have reached your destination. Thank you for traveling with THE66POW. Make sure you have all of your luggage and personal belongings with you before leaving this service.
You’ll see part of the stadium, right in front of you upon leaving the station (see above). The first thing you will pass, is a work in progress building site, which is where an extra tier is being added onto the top of the North Stand. Seeing the framework in such an open-plan and skeletal form, gives you a good idea of the scale and overall size of the new structure. It's going to be huge.
The club store was doing a brisk trade, with numerous people eagerly parting with an obscenely huge amount of cash, taking advantage of the bargains to be had therein. Replica home shirts down from £120 to just £77! Yes, I am repeating verbatim, exactly what the sign said. I decided against entering the shop and besides, over yonder I had spotted something far more enticing.
Maine Road Chippy it was called, named after City's old ground. There's a decent sized cafe of the same name next door too, if you prefer to sit down and eat indoors. But it was a pleasant enough night weather-wise, most un-Manchester like actually… and there's an abundance of seating available all around the sprawling concourse of the ground
The fodder was delightful and cost me only a fraction of the the price of one of the half n’ half Man City/Brugges scarves, that a whole regiment of counterfeit vendors were shifting at a quite alarming rate. But a fool and their money are soon parted. “Have you got one that's just Brugge, Without Man City on it?” I enquired politely, but quite loudly, lest anyone might mistakenly think I was here to support Cit-eh. The very thought, eh!?
It was a rhetorical question of course… and I wasn't really expecting to get one. Truth be told, I already own a very nice one that I obtained in person from the Jan Breydelstadion, on my travels to Bruges, in that there Belgium. I left it at home tonight, because the instructions that came with the tickets said ‘home supporters only’. In the event it would hardly have mattered, there were supporters of all manner of teams hanging around outside Entrance P, in what seemed to virtually be a neutral area.
I mooched around the periphery of the stadium, taking in the music, sights and sounds of an impressive array of pre-match entertainment. Usually I wouldn't be even slightly enthusiastic about such shenanigans, but it needs to be said that City do these sort of things very well. I took a phone call and had to move away from a lively and quite noisy show taking place outside the main entrance, so I could hear my call.
I’d shifted around a hundred yards away from all of the humdrum, when there was suddenly a loud bang. It sounded like someone had let off a firework (had it been at Maine Road I would instantly have thought ‘gunfire’ and buggered off sharply), then I saw a flames leaping up above the gathering crowd. I suspected that this wasn't an organised bonfire party, or part of the show, as floods of people began to leave the area ASAP, looking very worried, while the stewards hastened them away from the scene.
Whether it was stray party pyro, or an electrical fault, or some such that had started the fire, I couldn't even begin to speculate on. But one of the club shop merchandise outlets was engulfed in flames. For a few moments there was a lot of panic and confusion all around me. But two fire engines arrived in an instant and the situation was soon under control. Credit where it's due, the stewards acted very swiftly to deal with the ensuing chaos.
Why on earth people needed to be told that it was in their best interests to get away from an outbreak of fire in a crowded area, full of combustible material beats me. All of those burning half and half scarves (the club had produced a whole load of official ones too) made a right pong, causing people to cover their faces, but the main thing, tnobody got hurt. And, all told, it was perhaps a fitting fate for such tacky items of merchandise. Jesting aside, the scene was initially quite worrying, but was dealt with thoroughly, efficiently and very quickly. This was not a drill!
Following that unplanned extra pre-match spectacle, there was a slight delay in opening the turnstiles, while the operatives waited for the club safety officer to give everything the all clear. Once inside the ground - Phew! This dodgy ticket I’d obtained via very dubious means, as soon as I’d heard that Club Brugges KB were visiting the country, actually worked okay at the turnstiles - I grabbed myself a bespoke coffee and trotted off to find my seat.
City needed to win tonight, or they would finish outside the play-off places that they (and Brugge), will have to negotiate via a single tie, over two legs, against opponents as of yet unknown, to earn the right to play in the knockout stages of this season's convoluted Champions League format. The top eight, of which three are English (Liverpool, Arsenal and Aston Villa) have already qualified for the next stage, places nine to sixteen go into the play-offs and the bottom eight are eliminated at the end if this league stage. All games thus far have been one-legged affairs.
Tonight’s results saw both of these teams through to the play-offs on goal difference. City knew that they were drinking at the last chance saloon tonight, aware of the fact that the visitors would be a real threat, after Nicky Hayen’s side beat English qualifiers Aston Villa on home turf earlier this season.
Incidentally, some football trivia for those of you who have persevered this far with the word count limit busting post: Between December 31st 2021 and May 1st 2022, Hayen actually managed the Welsh side Haverfordwest County for fifteen games: W6 D4 L5. Go on, impress your mates by dropping that stat into the conversation on the way to whichever game you are heading to this weekend.
The team that have apparently won four Premier League titles on the trot (an unprecedented record that won't ever be repeated, or added to this season), looked hungry for goals, but the visitors were just about doing enough to repel the Cityzens (that’s how it was spelt on the signage) and right on the stroke of half-time the Blauw-Zwart (Blue -Black) of FCB, took the lead, when Raphael Onyedika turned in Ferran Jutgla's cross from the right hand side of the hosts area.
The second half belonged to City, who scored three goals without reply, as they upped the ante and rescued this season's involvement in a competition that they had won as recently as 2023. Eight minutes after the restart, the former Liverpool goalkeeper Simon Mignolet, was beaten (at full stretch) by Mateo Kovacic’s well-placed and well-weighted shot.
Shortly afterwards, Joel Ordonez couldn’t avoid turning Josko Gvardiol's cross into his own net as Josep Guardiola Sala’s side took the lead just after the hour mark. Look, his friends might call him Pep, but I don't even know the guy, so let's keep things all ship shape, formal and above board. Man of the match, Savinho netted City's third, stabbing in a low effort just inside Mignolet’s near post and the Sky Blues had all but completed their task for the night… avoiding the ignominy of crashing out of the Champions League at the novelty stage. FT: Manchester City 3 v Club Brugges 1. The Belgians have now played fifteen European away games on English soil… and have never won any of them.
I swiftly headed for the tram stop at full time, past the burnt out shell of a former merchandise stall. My earlier ‘reci’ of the lay of the land proved to be very useful, as I blind-sided the bulk of the crowd and descended the stairs towards the streetcar that was just coming to a halt in front of me. I was back into the powder keg that is Manchester city centre, in no time at all.
I often find that my tunnel vision and homing-pigeon instincts don't half come in handy and stand me in good stead, at times like this. My train back was running late, but that gave me enough time to nip into town and stock up on provisions for my journey home, instead of paying the over-inflated station prices. Don't wait up!
