I don’t often do a ‘match-day
experience’ piece but then again I don’t often go to the ground so early…nor do
I go into City Square
The journey
Although I almost always walk home – a journey that takes
about 30 minutes or so – I decided to walk there too on this occasion for a bit more exercise (hardly a marathon I know...). I’d arranged to me my
mate outside the bar area in the 'fan zone' at 11:45am (for the 1:30pm KO) and so set off at
11:10am.
It took slightly less time than I thought, I thought to myself, as I approached the
stadium’s outer area but then remembered that it was mostly downhill TO the
ground. Decent day; reasonably warm and fairly sunny.
The arrival
I was a little
early and, a-hem,
my mate isn’t exactly renowned for his timekeeping skills and so I parked
myself on a concrete bench on the East-Stand-side for a brief rest and slurp of
what I like to call…Lagerzade. I’ll leave
that one to your imagination…
So a few minutes past the agreed time I made my way to what
is the FAR side of the stadium for us and into City Square
Not long afterwards and at 12-noon the short queue began to
move in…and that’s where the carnage began.
Now apart from the very rare occasion (and for just
45 minutes or so), I’ve basically not
been to City Square
Specifically there was a rather
imposing chap who used to keep the Star Bar, at least, ticking along very
nicely indeed - a large amount of fans crammed in the area there might always have
been but the limited queues used to flow quite quickly indeed. Speedy &
friendly service; beer tasted pretty good and every member of staff understood
English! This was, of course, in sharp
comparison to the bars inside the ground at the time; my area at least where
all of the opposite applied.
But – and regular readers might recall me touching on this in the
past every so often – I stopped going to City Square simply because of the
crazy prices being charged for beer & food by Manchester City; prices that
I have been savage in my criticism of every time I received an e-mailed survey
from the club or otherwise get the opportunity. Prices for food and drink that
aren’t THAT far off Wembley prices; prices that for a ‘special day out’ / one-off game that
you don’t mind TOO much paying for but for an ‘ordinary game’ in Manchester is
an utter joke…just not a very funny one.
I have to be utterly desperate to
buy food at the Etihad these days – even then nothing more than a few chips to ‘fill a
hole’ – and, basically, haven’t gone
to any of the food venues at the ground in the last 8 years or so; preferring
to take my own, FAR cheaper, pre-warmed pie etc…as
well as the afore mention, adapted bottle of “refreshment” or two.
But back to the impeding chaos…
The bars here, like
most in and around the ground, have about 4 or 5 ‘queuing points’ and what
happened next was like being on a secret-camera prank show. Firstly, the nearest
of the two tills at our ‘our end’ of the bar decided that it didn’t want to
work and this then caused considerable backlog of customers. But we waited.
Then, just as the
customers in front of us has placed their order; their (and soon-to-be mine)
drink of choice had ran out in the pumps. Another fella not-too-far away then
asked for an alternative and three-quarters of the way through the-pulling-of
this pint the chap told him, “That’s not
what I asked for mate”.
I turned to my
mate, rolled my eyes and was ABOUT to suggest that we shuffle along to the other
end and try our luck there. However, just as I was about to engage my vocal
chords I noticed they too had their till upside down looking for, apparently, a
‘reset button’. It was my mate who then took the initiative and suggest we try
the Summerbee bar at the opposite end.
So we went to the
slightly less busy, right-hand-side of THIS bar and as we were stood behind
just one customer…they too ran out of the beer; the same brand that I was about
to request as it spluttered foam all over the shop! I began to laugh at the farce of it all.
But it didn’t end
there.
As we shuffled to
our left, the now-apparent computer virus had spread and we were treated to
another show of ‘flip the till’. Just as my mate and I looked at each other –
by now convinced that this was one, elaborate ‘set up’ - to the far left of
this bar we were beckoned over by a free member of staff. As I approached I
said, “Please tell me that you have a
beer pump that works” and before she could enquire about what I was on
about, I explained that this was now our 4th or 5th
attempt to purchase a beverage; explaining also that none of the tills and very
few pumps were working at the other bar.
I don’t know if he
was on holiday or had since left in the years that I had not attended the bars
at City Square; but there was no ‘imposing chap’ supervisor and the ensuing
pandemonium was there for all to see…and endure.
So pints-in-hand we
stood at one of the tables and began to chat about all thing footy and
non-footy alike.
Now I did say that
I’d not been to City Square
And so I had
forgotten – but was very soon about to be
reminded – that City and their City-Square entertainment staff used to get
kids to regularly scream as loud and for as long and their little throats and
lungs would allow them, the name, Aguerooooooooooooooo… in the style of Martin Tyler. The idea being, if you
didn’t know and it wasn’t obvious, that the longest shout without drawing
breath would win (something).
However, it was my
older and considerably calmer mate who did in fact point out that perhaps it
was because we were playing QPR and, therefore, were simply paying homage to
that particular fixture / great moment in our history. Fair enough…but it was
still bloody annoying though.
Then the band
started and although they were decent, that was the end of any conversation
where you didn’t have to scream at each other to be heard.
Moving on in…
So that was it.
Both of us had-had enough after just one pint and we moved into the stadium;
sitting in the much calmer and easier-to-get-served bar near to where our seats
are located.
How times have changed. I used to
regularly meet up with friends in City Square, spend a considerable amount on
easy-to-get beer and be served by better-organised staff than you’d get on the
inside of the stadium.
One recent bad experience with
the bar doesn’t make for an overall downturn in standards of course but that – along with the hideous din of the
many & very efficient speakers around the place – made for an
irritating time of it, as opposed to being the no-doubt-intended great ‘fan
zone experience’.
It all looks very good – and some
of it is – but it’s not ‘all that’…and
way too expensive as I say.
Inside was a
picture of calmness; with staff stood around waiting to serve fans…but I suppose it was 12:40pm for a 1:30pm KO
on a Sunday. And although on this bar inside the stadium they still seem to
struggle in general when all fans are in place, they have improved considerably
over the last year.
Once sat inside we
could really start chatting about the impending game whilst, at the same time, guffawing out load at one or two things.
One occurrence – although this may not translate quite as
well in writing – involved a chap in a wheelchair (please bare with me).
We’d been chatting for a few
moments with ‘pint in hand’ when in the peripheral vision of the both of us we
saw a lad walking at some considerable pace pushing a chap in a wheelchair.
All of a sudden – and in one
smooth movement – he let go of the wheelchair and did a sharp 90-degree left
turn to the bar; appearing to allow the chair and poor bloke sat in it to carry
on down the concourse at pace! It was
though he had been taken by surprise at the sudden and welcoming appearance of
a bar and had lost all sense of his main task-in-hand!
It was probably only a brief second
and no more BUT, for that split second; it didn’t look like the
wheelchair-bound fella was aware that his helper had released him! However, it very
soon became apparent that ‘all was well’ as he ‘took charge’ over both the
direction & pace of his chair the rest of the way along. Phew…
But we looked at each other as if
to say, “Did you think what I thought then”, and we both burst out laughing for
a good 2 minutes.
I hope that did
come across as intended…
See…much better
time of it when you can hear each other.
Before we took our
seats we moved onto what we (or at least I) thought the result would be. I told
my mate that I had predicted a home win and
that there was a chance, at least, of
a big scoreline too.
But I added a note
of caution that if we turned up expecting to win with little effort – or QPR
scored first goal and then ‘clammed up’ too tight for us to open them up – it
could be very different. I ended with the line, “It could be 0-0, 0-1 or 7-0 for us”.
So we moved up the
small set of steps and into our seats and it was only 4-minutes that Aguero had
us all jumping for joy. It was nearly another half-hour before we added a
second but goals started to fly-in either side of the break.
As we edged closer
and closer and closer to my 3rd predicted score, there was an added
edge of excitement for me and my mate to
a point to the already-joyous atmosphere of a massacre. But although we had
chances after we’d reached an impressive 6-0, that was to be the final score.
I was impressed by
both the often-slick moves AND the desire shown by our lads.
Homeward bound…
We left the ground
and went our separate ways once we’d reached Alan Turing Way
The Etihad is a
very fine stadium Indeed and it will only get better when the South Stand is
finished and then, two seasons later, the North Stand likewise.
But when the
new North Stand encroaches onto - and then all but destroys – the City Square
I don’t wish to
sound like a ungrateful, moaning so-and-so and, as I say, it’s not all bad and
the club is the envy of so many for what they’ve done for the fans. But I just
wanted to give those City fans who are reading this from all corners of the
globe and / or who can’t make it to Manchester
Welsh assistance!
Although they’re
‘up next’ for us – what GREAT result the following day! Arsenal 0-1
Swansea City Southampton …where
I probably WON’T be going to City Square
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