After 42 years Manchester City have finally won something. I am happy for all the City fans including myself but however I must admit I am somewhat lapsed.


My love affair with Manchester City started circa 1979 when my father bought me a Man City school bag from Dunnes Stores. It was one of those plasticy bags with a shoulder handle and a zip that stretched across the top of the bag. Critically, emblazoned across one side of the bag was a photograph of the then City team. Now these were the days of fairly ordinary quality. You could just about make out the individual members of the squad but it was nice. It was brand new; a gorgeous sky blue and white trim, and mostly, it was different from the ubiquitous red and white of either United or Liverpool. I was a happy soldier that Saturday evening in Waterford with my new bag and my new status as a rare species- a City fan.


I had supported Newcastle United at one stage with my favourite player tag switching between Malcolm McDonald and Kevin Keegan and flirted with Everton. For some reason I began to hate Everton. Probably something to do with some of the schemers I knew who followed them.


So, fast forward to the season of 1980-81. City had a new manager-one John Bond- a kind of respectable looking fellow with a Ken Barlow hairstyle. He brought a new flair to City and a couple of million pound players. Wonderful players like Denis Tueart, Tommy Caton (RIP), Gerry Gow and Tommy Hutchison; a mixture of youth, flair, experience and a hatchet man. Behind the famous 4-3-3 formation was one Joe Corrigan. Now Joe was my hero. Here was a man who was third-choice England goalkeeper at the time. But keep in mind he was snapping at the heels of England Number 1 Ray Clemence and his number 2: Peter Shilton. These were, in my humble opinion, the best goalkeepers in the world, following in the footsteps of other English goalkeeping greats such as Gordon Banks. Joe Corrigan was England 'B' first-choice and Man City legend.


1980-81 was the season City flourished finishing in the top few of the First Divison but most of all participating in the FA Cup Final of that year. This was when the FA Cup was a wonderful world-class tournament second only to the English League First Division. The third round draw was eagerly anticipated. City saw off Notts County, Bristol City, Norwich and a wonderful semi-final against Ipswich at Villa Park. A Paul Power spectacular listened to on a hazy BBC Radio 2 reception. Bliss.


So when you're at school and your team are in the Cup Final it's just great. That Saturday in May is a day to be cherished. RTE piggy-back on the superb coverage of the BBC where the cameras are knocking around team buses, dressing rooms and displaying Wembley in all its glory. This is your team's day. John Motson is set to one side to make way for the dulcet tones of Jimmy Magee and City all of a sky blue led by John Bond and captain Paul Power make their way onto the baize-like turf. They are accompanied by one Tottenham Hotspur quite simply a wonderful team captained by Steve Perryman and with brilliant striking pair of Steve Archibald and Garth Brooks, Glen flippin Hoddle and post-Peron, pre-default Argentinian stars Ricky Villa and Ossie Ardiles. Don't remind me!


City took the lead with a Tommy Hutchison cracker. A header from about a mile out. Paradise. Corrigan kept Spurs at bay with a man of the match performance and then when it looked like City might just hold on there was a crack at goal, it deflected off Tommy Hutchison and past Corrigan into the City net. "Ah it's an OG from the man who scored the first" wailed Jimmy Magee. Devastation. A bloody draw. Replay that following Thursday night.


I reflected it could have been worse and settled into looking forward to another all City-Spurs spectacular. And that it was.

Villa put Spurs in the lead. Steve McKenzie drew level with a screaming volley from from 25 yards. A converted penalty for Kevin Reeves put City ahead and soon Spurs evened matters with an Archibald- Crooks manafactured effort. Not for the faint -hearted this match. And then sheer Tottenham brilliance, Argentinian style. Ricky Villa wrenched his way around the City penalty area and shot under Corrigan to drive the North Londoners wild. This was a serious winning goal. Keith Hackett blew the final whistle and City were dejected. I was shocked that City were beaten. I cried bitter tears. I was inconsolable. Imagine how the players felt.

Not an hour after the game the front door bell rang and some so called friends were at the door. One was draped in a Tottenham scarf. My brother sincerely informed them that I was 'upset' and had been 'crying' This was all I needed. I just faced the music. I hadn't much choice.

My only consolation was that City had given a good account of themselves and good old Joe Corrigan was again named Man of the Match testament to his brilliance and probably Tottenham's dominance.

In the year of the Cockerel 1981, Tottenham took the most coveted prize in football.

And now here we are in 2011 and City finally lift the cup. It's not the same for me. Money has delivered it but sure that's the order of things today. I am content. I am happy for the true blues I know.

So Robbie 'Jinks' Flynn, Alec Hayden and Ivan Yates, God forbid, take a bow City have delivered.