It was inevitable that, having been a City fan all my life
and followed the Blues from Maine Road to the Etihad and beyond, I would pass
this onto any children I may have. After mulling it over since the day he was
born, I felt the time was right to introduce my son, Vincent, to what will
become the love of his life- he just doesn’t know it yet. Yes, it was time to
take my son to his first football match.
The timing of this was a source of contention from long
before he was born. How early would be too early? When is deemed socially
acceptable to take a baby to the football? I think I was paranoid and concerned
as to how he would behave for a period of 90 minutes in a very public arena. I
was worried about the possibility that, despite the fact he is a very happy
baby, he would continuously cry, leading to collective moans, groans and glares
from the fans surrounding me. I wasn’t overly worried about his reaction to
being in large crowds, nor to loud noises, as he has been in environments like
that before and been his usual cheery self. I guess the only way to find out
was to take him and see what happened.
Wearing his colours with pride
I’m lucky that I have a really supportive boyfriend, Adam,
who I was going to the match with, who had encouraged me to take Vincent and
offered to help me every step of the way. He reassured me constantly, living by
the motto ‘what’s the worst that could happen?’ Of course, he was right (it pains me to say that!) The worst case
scenario was that V would cry relentlessly and I’d have to take him back to the
car and there would be no great shame in that, after all he was a baby. In my
mind I was totally prepared for this to become a reality! To most concerned, City vs. Southampton was a slight formality. With not a great deal to play for after Chelsea tied up the title, it was one of those mundane end of season fixtures. Not for me. It was my son's first football match and that meant the world.
Walking around the Etihad with V
On the day, I prepared his food and nappy bag as normal and
dressed V resplendently in his City shirt and matching sky blue joggers.
Timings of his meals weren’t really a concern as I knew I could feed him in the
concourse before the game. I wasn’t sure if I could take his pram and leave it
anywhere (I obviously knew I couldn’t
take it into the stadium). I decided to chance taking it: having got there
with plenty of time to spare, we found out that I could leave his pram at the
City@home reception (somewhere I was very
familiar with having worked at the club for a few years). I took him to City Square to see the lovely crowd of people that I know through Twitter and often meet up with before the games. Everybody was so reassuring and supportive and that really helped to settle me too, there are some truly wonderful Blues out there. Once in the
ground, I also found out there was a baby change facility in the Family Stand. Of
course, the staff at City were more than accommodating. Things were almost
going too well.
Showing him his second home
But to my surprise, that’s exactly how the afternoon
continued. As I carried V around the increasingly busy concourse, fans oohed
and ahhed at the sight of his constantly smiley face, decked out immaculately
in his City attire. I took him pitch-side and even to see my former colleague
from BBC Radio Manchester, Ian Cheeseman and his sidekick, Shaun Goater. I
hadn’t seen Ian for a while, practically since the days I worked on Blue
Tuesday with him, so it was truly a delight to catch up with him and we made
arrangements to meet again and keep in touch. I also saw a few people who I
worked with at City, most who didn’t know I’d had a baby, so that was fun too.
Seeing my good friend and ex-colleague Ian
By this time kick off was approaching, so I headed to my
seat with Adam and gave V some food and milk. I think the key to the day going
as smoothly as possible was organisation. Just as on any other day out we go on,
making sure he was changed and fed resulted in a blissfully happy baby. Adam
said his goodbyes and headed to his seat and I was left with my little boy-
with just five minutes until the match started.
Heading to our seats before kick off
When the teams, Southampton and City, took to the pitch, I
held V aloft and he was just smiling and giggling. Nothing seemed to phase him.
The noise from the crowd was considerable, but he took it all in his stride,
wide-eyed at the events unfolding around him. He was actually enjoying it: he was
fascinated by people applauding, intrigued by the consistent cheers and amazed
at the number of people surrounding him. My seven month old son was at a
football match and it looked like he was actually having fun. Now for the real
moment of truth- how he would cope with 90 minutes in the stadium.
Engrossed in the game
He coped just fine. The first half went by a breeze, with V
having intermittent drinks of milk between constantly looking around at the
sights and sounds on display. He was mesmerised by the flashing LED advertising
boards (which to us adults are both
incredibly annoying and distracting during the game) and at some points I
swear he did actually watch parts of the game. The thing that excited V the
most was the crowd interactions and noise. Whenever City moved forward and the
home faithful roared encouragement, V would watch people’s movements and react
with delight to the increasing noise levels. When the first goal went in, his
reaction was priceless. He was giggling and bouncing up and down. I couldn’t believe
it. He loved it! I had tears in my eyes: it was one of my proudest moments.
Come on City
To most people that would sound quite sad, but when you’ve
supported a team your whole life and always dreamed of passing on that support
to your children, it was a bit of a dream come true. I was at the football with
my little boy and we were enjoying it together. I’m sure if he would’ve gone
watching City back in the 1990s that would be a very different story. Our
children will never know they were born when it comes to the calibre of City
and the position the club is in now. But V will. I will educate him on those
days where we’d rock up to Maine Road expecting a defeat, and get one, usually
at the hands of inferior opposition. The defeats to Wycombe, Wimbledon and
Stockport will forever be etched in my memory. The amount of minutes of abysmal
football I’ve sat through, of Typical City™, the amount of managers I watched
come and go, that Jamie Pollock own goal, the amount of Georgian
footballers…he’s never going to believe me, is he? I barely believe it myself
looking back.
Having fun with Adam
I met up with Adam and his Dad, brother and nephew at half
time, but it was pretty chaotic carrying V through the scrum on the concourse.
The amount of people who shouted ‘awww he’s so cute!’ at me, who smiled, who
said things about the next generation…he was attracting quite a lot of
attention, but he took it all in his stride. Even through the second half he
was as good as gold. He was due a sleep so towards the end he did niggle
slightly, but I expected that. It was nothing that his dummy, a bit more milk
and some Mum cuddles couldn’t fix. By the time the final whistle blew, and
City had won 2-0 thanks to goals from the departing Frank Lampard and Golden
Boot winner Sergio Aguero, he was
back to giggling and bouncing around again, seemingly delighted that City had
finished the 2014/15 with three points confirming second place in the League.
Future season ticket holder
It was quite tiring, as he’s quite a big boy and I held him
up for the vast majority of the game, but it was definitely worth it. All that
self-doubt and paranoia was for nothing. Although I didn’t see any other
parents with children quite as young as Vincent that day, I am aware that
people do take very young babies to the football all the time, but I felt seven
months was the right age to indoctrinate him into the life of a Manchester City
fan. So for anybody who is contemplating it and having doubts like I did- don’t
over think it. Just dive right in. Like somebody said to me, if you take them
often enough when they are young, they will just become used to it and treat
going to football and being in that kind of environment the norm. My aim now is
to take Vincent to at least a game a season, so when he’s older he can tell his
friends he has been to a match every season since he was born (but of course he was there throughout my
pregnancy since conception, week in week out in my stomach).
Post match celebrations
As parents, you do have to make judgement calls and make
decisions for what is best in your children’s lives. As it goes, this wasn’t
necessarily a particularly big one, but it’s one memory that will live with me
if not him for the rest of my life. To be there with my boy and a man who
helped me every step of the way meant the absolute world and witnessing V’s
reactions to the big moments of the game (and
even the small ones) was priceless. It’s a joy to watch him constantly
learning and growing, but it was a real pleasure watching him bouncing and
smiling every time City scored. It was inevitable though, it’s in his blood. Long
may that continue in his bright blue future.
The loves of my life in one photograph
Sunday 24 May 2015 was the day it all started for him: one
day he’ll thank me…or never forgive me!
