Following the fortunes of Manchester City for over a quarter of a century was a thrilling roller-coaster ride of ups and downs and twists and turns. I loved every minute of it. City were on my "patch" along with their neighbours Manchester United and the Merseyside rivals of Liverpool and Everton in my spell as a sports writer in the North of England.
During that time an abundance of silverware came to three of my 'big four'. City kept me waiting and waiting in vain until I came over here to the UAE six months before the most exciting development in the club's chequered history -- this week's dramatic takeover by the Abu Dhabi United Group. Known as "The Great Unpredictables" ever since 1938 when they became the first and only English team to be relegated the season after winning the league championship, they lived up to that tag while I was covering them, setting a record that no other club wanted of six demotions from the top flight of their domestic game.
City's large and incredibly loyal fan base -- most of them living in the Manchester area unlike those who travel to Old Trafford from all over the world -- maintain, and I agree with them, that it is more fun following a team when you simply do not know what is going to happen next than one where success or failure is almost taken as read. Supporters and reporters may have thrived on that uncertainty but the City hierarchy hated it and yearned for stability. The late Joe Mercer, who went on to manage England, briefly satisfied that demand but when he handed over the reins to his influential sidekick Malcolm Allison, Maine Road (as City's home was then) became a turbulent place again.
The flamboyant Allison was the first City manager I worked with in 1980 and he made no secret of the fact that he was friendly with the Kray twins, the notorious London gangsters. He also needed to supply an alibi to remove him from the list of suspects from the Ronnie Biggs-led Great Train Robbery of 1963. I'm a non-smoker but felt as though I had taken up the habit as the ritual of lighting the biggest of cigars marked the start of every pre-match and post-match briefing -- a ritual which Allison's colourful successor John Bond continued with a vengeance.
The national press were privileged in those days to be able to socialise with the manager in his office and at Maine Road we had the best seats in the house alongside those occupied by the club's directors who became willing contacts, to the chagrin of the volatile chairman Peter Swales who frequently complained of having to plug more leaks than an industrial plumber. Mike Summerbee, who made the transition from England international player to the board room, once told the story that he had asked Princess Anne, daughter of the Queen of England, for her telephone number when she came out to be introduced to the teams for the 1969 FA Cup final. Tony Coleman, who stood alongside Summerbee at Wembley that day, was heard to utter the line: "Give my regards to your mum and dad."
Swales in his latter years as chairman was labelled "Public Enemy No 1" by the team's supporters even though he was a dyed-in-the-wool City fan himself, unlike some of his counterparts in what was then the English First Division. He was an impatient employer and after sacking Allison in 1980, he went through nine different managers in 14 years before making way for Francis Lee, one of the club's most famous former players.
Not that Lee did much to stop the managerial merry-go-round. In one momentous year, 1996, which provided mountains of terrific copy for we newshounds, Lee presided over no fewer than five different managers. Indeed, in the time Sir Alex Ferguson has been reigning supremely across the road at United, City have engraved 16 different names on their manager's door. Lee was responsible for moving the press box to the back of the Maine Road stand -- a decision which saw our gravy train hit the buffers until the club moved to the brand new home on the Eastlands site of the 2002 Commonwealth Games, a venue which, irritatingly, did not provide a signal for mobile phones in the subterranean media centre.
By then Kevin Keegan was in the middle of what for City was a lengthy four-year tenure as manager. It always seemed only a matter of time before the former England manager would follow the path of so many predecessors. A brief working relationship with Stuart Pearce followed and my last 'welcome party' at one of my favourite clubs was when Sven Goran Eriksson finished his "gardening leave" after his England departure to accept the riches offered by the club's Thailand owner Thaksin Shinawatra.
Eriksson was treated shabbily by the club's hierarchy considering the impact he made, almost overnight, in transforming fortunes on the playing pitch. I left the scene before Sven and was not around to witness the installation of the present incumbent Mark Hughes, with whom I had worked closely at Blackburn Rovers. Hughes, I'm told, was on the verge of quitting when the chairman's alleged financial irregularities were being investigated.
He will be so glad he stuck it out now as he sits on a potential gold mine which is being compared to the one Roman Abramovic created at Chelsea. Enjoy the ride, Mark, even if it turns out to be a brief one. Whatever happens there will be twists and turns, ups and downs. That is the only way it can be at City.
