I write this in the aftermath of the Reading game, having sought out and listened to opinions other than my own, and those somewhat excitable posts on Bluemoon.

Let me first put on the record that I am a devout ‘inner’ and will never be converted to an ‘outer’. Forza Mancini – in Mancini we trust.

I ignored the relentless stream of anti-Mancini stories doing the rounds and wrote them off as yet more evidence of the perceived media bias against City.

I defended him (and still will) against the ‘outers’. Isn’t it weird that we chose to believe some stories and ignore others depending on whether they back up our ‘inner’ or ‘outer’ status.

That we had a really tough Champions League Group was a mainstay of defending a group stage exit, whilst subtly ignoring the comparatively easy route to the FA cup final.
Similarly, the failure to land RvP was continually stated, by Bobby himself no less, as being the main reason for us not retaining our title.

However, despite my irrevocable support of Mancini I also have an unshakeable belief in the best owners of the best football club in the world. They have appointed the 2 Spaniards to fully overview the club and their decision is that it is time for a change.

Right or Wrong? First off, I along with 99.9% of everyone else on here, have absolutely no personal knowledge of the backroom shenanigans or politics that have been/are going on.
Just because the same old media hacks keep regurgitating the same old ‘lost the dressing room’ stories, doesn’t make it so. So I will try to make a case on purely footballing grounds.

As we all know, Mancini took over from Mark Hughes, a manager that the owners inherited, backed with huge sums of money and gave him 18 months. Only when it became clear he was pretty clueless did they remove him – hardly a ‘knee jerk’ reaction. Remember the media stories about Mancini being in the stadium and what a poor decision it was? You can see why I am trying so hard to ignore anything emanating from the press when formulating my opinions (we had inners and outers then too!).

Mancini came in, managed to get defenders to defend, and most of us could see the building blocks that were being laid. Yes, some of the play was overly defensive, but you could actually see a tactical plan & a proper team shape coming together.

It did take time to win some of us (not me) over – “£220k a week for a defensive midfielder? What a waste that YaYa Toure is!” “get it forwards”, but all lingering doubts were firmly laid to rest with what that season presented us. A trophy. The first manager in (my) lifetime to win anything. Real quality players added to the squad – real improvement.

Then last season. Quite simply, the best football I have ever seen from a City team and possibly from any English team. Scintillating, incisive, destructive. Breathtaking at times, with a sporadic sprinkling of exasperation. Most goals scored, least conceded, 2 wins over them. How we only managed to win on goal difference is one of the great mysteries of the modern world. Again, real, measurable and appreciable improvement.

Then to this season. No improvement. Mancini clearly blamed others for this, regularly citing the failure to sign key players as the main reason. Whilst it is difficult to argue against the view that deducting RvP’s goals from them and adding them to us would dramatically alter the eventual outcome, you simply cannot ignore the fact that we haven’t played as well as last season, individually or as a team.

It is too simplistic to blame purely the lack of signings, just as it is implausible to blame it all on Mancini’s management style.

Which brings me onto Europe.

Even taking into account the extremely tough opponents (no Otelul Galati or FC Cluj for us) our tactical naivety was cruelly exposed, particularly this year.

Mancini has overseen 14 European away ties with City (Europa and Champions League) – how many do you think he’s won? 4. Yes, just 4. And 2 of those were the first 2 games – Timisoara & Salzburg. There was also Villareal who were missing half of their regulars.
The only meaningful win was Porto. Not a ringing endorsement made worse by the fact that shadowing our league form, our European form this season was atrocious. Outplayed and out-thought in pretty much every game.

Whatever the reason, or combination of reasons, we have gone backwards this season.

If I had to make a case for sacking Mancini based on this seasons performances I could easily do so.

If I had to make a case for keeping Mancini based on this seasons performances I could easily do so.

Neither case is hugely compelling though, and definitely not strong enough on its own to justify a sacking. Which leads me to what, in my opinion, is the real reason for his dismissal.

The word that stuck out like a beacon when I first read the press release on Monday night.
Holistic – what a strange word to put in a statement, but accurately sums up what the Spanish duo are after. A manager who will inspire, influence and lead the whole club, not just the first team. In their opinion that man was not Mancini. And patently not Mourinho either.

Mancini will always have my utmost respect and admiration, no matter what comes out over the coming days and weeks. He delivered more silverware in 3 years than I ever thought I would see in my lifetime. For this I will be eternally grateful.

But this, as a fan, is exactly why I am in no position to judge the decision to remove him. My judgement is clouded by my days out at Wembley. These hardnosed decisions need to be taken by those who know and understand the whole picture and those who are setting the agenda. Gladly that’s not me.

Thank you Mancini. Thank you for everything.

The King is dead. Long live the King.

“There’s no fucking hot water!” a slightly portly man with a meat and potato pie announced in front of me, spraying the mouthful he had just taken over the crowd of unfortunate people who had been waiting hopefully for a warm drink. They, like the gentlemen atop the queue, would be sorely disappointed. For the record, the urn had broken at that particular kiosk, meaning the people that should have been collecting tea, coffee or Bovril would have to go without. Or go to a different kiosk.

Being a thirteen year old boy with spots, an irrational love for Manchester City, and a hatred of drinks served hot, at the time I suppose I found that incident mildly amusing more than anything else. Looking back, though, the reaction kind of sums up my biggest problem with football: I don’t really fit in. Not that I particularly want to be ‘just another face in the crowd’, mind you.

It’s a maxim that’s been explored on QI recently and one that, in my experience, tends to err on the side of being true: The higher the number of people gathered, the less likely any of them will take decisive action in a situation where it is needed. It’s something to do with a fear of looking like a prat in front of everyone else, I think. For example, if one person witnesses a mugging, there’s a high chance they’ll act. If thirty people witness the same incident, it’s more likely they’ll all just stand and watch. Seems odd, but apparently true.

Now, there are not many gay men in the stands of football stadiums. There are some; it’d be odd if there weren’t, but I’m willing to bet the proportion of a match-going crowd that is attracted to their own gender shows a disparity to that of everyday society. I’m one of the few.

In my experience, it’s a bit of an odd life being a passionate football fan – part of my job actually involves talking about it on radio and writing about it online and in print – while also being homosexual. I tend to find there’s something of an inherent fear of it in the stands, bizarrely from people who probably hold few ill feelings towards it away from the sport. It’s as if it’s seen as a weakness – and any weakness in football is exploited as a means of gaining the upper hand.

At this point, I’m going to switch tack somewhat. For years, the FA has been pushing its Kick Racism Out Of Football campaign, aiming to… well… kick racism out of football. They’ve done some good work and, aside from a strange resurgence in a throwback to the 1980s last year (please, next time we have an 80s revival can avoid the riots and the football racism and just reform The Police?), the number of racist incidents has decreased. In my match-going life I can remember witnessing one.

It was Manchester City vs. Wolves. The visitors, losing heavily, were making a substitution and the little-known Congo-born Belgian footballer Geoffrey Mujangi Bia was being introduced. From behind me, a man shouted in response to the player joining the action: “Oh! Another nig nog!” To which, several fans around me turned to him and told him it wasn’t acceptable, while others audibly expressed shock, tutted or shook their heads. He replied, sarcastically, “Oh, isn’t it?”

Strange put-down, considering the number of black players at City, too.

However, a few weeks later, a lady behind me, somewhere near to the racist shouter, aimed something similar at one of her own players, Jerome Boateng. He wasn’t the toughest of defenders and was often found wearing his socks right up to the lowest end of his shorts, leaving no flesh exposed to the Manchester weather. And, on not committing fully to a challenge, he was “a soft faggot”.

Nobody said anything.

It disappoints me now that I didn’t have the bottle back then to do it myself. Even so, I’m still not convinced I’d do it if it happened this weekend: There seems something very unappealing at shouting, “Hello everyone, I’m a homosexual!” to a stand of football supporters, even if the majority of which would have no problem with it at all. And that’s not really me. One of my friends recently said that one of the things he liked about me was that I didn’t let anybody get to me about the fact I fancy men and not women. His actual words were: “It’s like you say ‘fuck off, I’m gay, deal with it’ and then get on with your life.”

When I fleetingly played 11-a-side, pub-team football, it seemed homophobia was a good topic for ‘banter’ (I hate that word, I promise I won’t use it again). My friends, who knew about my sexuality, would say afterwards that they felt uncomfortable listening to it while it was going on; I’d feel the same, yet again neither I nor they had the balls to say anything.

In other contexts, I have confronted homophobia. But not at football. I think it all comes back round to that original maxim: What if nobody backs me up? I know, morally, I’ll be correct, but I’ll feel daft in front of everybody else there.

However, I feel the need to add a caveat to this: I’ve painted football fans in quite a bad light. In fact, more often than not, they’re fine and can be very (inoffensively) witty at times. I should stress that these incidents aren’t a weekly occurrence, more things that stick in my mind because of the situation I’m in. I’m a gay man in a situation where there are very few gay men; that doesn’t make it right, but it does explain somewhat why more people are able to just brush it away. I believe the majority wouldn’t bat an eyelid about my sexuality outside of the context of being in a crowd of football fans.

Both playing and watching football is a big part of my life. I just don’t know how compatible it is with another big part of my life at the moment, but if the trend goes the way of the fight against racism then it shouldn’t be so long before that changes.

In the days following the coming out of ex-Leeds winger Robbie Rogers, the reaction has been fairly standard; Twitter went with (mainly) ‘who cares?’. In a way, it’s admirable that there are football fans that genuinely don’t think it is news, but it saddens me to know what reaction he would likely have faced had he not also retired at the same time.

Incidentally, did you know that, last year, the FA launched a six-point action plan to combat homophobia in football called ‘Opening Doors and Joining In’? No, me neither. That one completely passed me by, despite me being interested in both gay rights and football, and also a match-going fan that buys programmes and watches every highlights show going. Clearly there’s a lot to be done.

It’s time to face the issue, especially given the FA’s previously cancelled anti-homophobia video. “Does he take it up the arse?” Well, actually, yes he does. Anyone got a problem with that? You do? Ok – well, get over yourself and enjoy the game, because that’s what I’m trying to do.

Anyone else? No?

Good.

I don’t know about you, but I was a bit underwhelmed by the media’s reaction to the derby win on Monday night. Negative (from a City point of view) coverage had been pretty intense in the 48 hours before the game, but on Tuesday our win was swept under the carpet by the usual media suspects in a way which many people suspect would not have been the case had we lost. Probably because I hadn’t had my thirst for positive coverage sated, and was not yet quite ready to move on from the derby to the semi final, I decided to look back in a bit of detail at how we have fared against the rags since Mancini became manager. What led me to think of the title of this piece (which does I admit sound a bit like a doo-wop band from the 50s) was the spin coming out of the Theatre of Dreams since Monday – that Van Persie had played a blinder, that the rags had outperformed their blue counterparts and were undone by a solitary moment of brilliance from Aguero, that Tevez was offside for Milner’s goal but the two footed tackles from Welbeck and Rooney didnt happen. That, of course, and that banner which read “normal service has been resumed”.

First, the basic stats. We have played Them 12 times under Mancini’s watch. (I thought twice about including the Community Shield as a meaningful fixture as it is more of a pre season friendly than a competitive game – see eg the changes made at half time. In the end I thought on balance the better approach was to include it but to be cautious about drawing conclusions from that alone, since (a) against Them there is no such thing as a ‘friendly’, and (b) anomalous or otherwise it is still a match which decides where a trophy will go.)

The results of our derbies under Mancini are as follows (our score first whether home or away):
09/10 – CCSF(h) 2 – 1; CCSF (a) 1 – 3; PL (h) 0 – 1
10/11 – PL (h) 0 – 0; PL (a) 1 – 2; FACSF (Wembley) 1 – 0
11/12 – COM SHIELD (Wembley) 2 – 3; PL (a) 6 – 1; FAC3 (h) 2 – 3; PL (h) 1 – 0
12/13 – PL (h) 2 – 3; PL (a) 2 – 1

The bare statistics are not at all depressing. Under Mancini we have won five, drawn one and lost six times against Them – one defeat of course being the Community Shield. We have scored 20 times to their 18. We have knocked them out of one tournament at the semi final stage, they have knocked us out of one. Looking at our record against Them since Mancini became manager, we probably come out level pegging with the rags taking the period as a whole.

When you factor in the development of our club, and what has been going on off the pitch at the same time, the position is even more encouraging. It is interesting to compare the starting XIs from our first starting match against Them under Mancini, the Wembley semi final and the most recent derby:
19/1/10 CCSF (h) Given, Richards, Zabaleta, Garrido, Kompany, De Jong, Wright Phillips, Boyata, Barry, Tevez, Bellamy
16/4/11 FAC SF (Wembley) Hart, Zabaleta, Kompany, Lescott, Kolarov, Johnson, Barry, Silva, De Jong, Yaya Toure, Balotelli
8/4/13 PL (a) Hart, Zabaleta, Kompany, Nastasic, Clichy, Barry, Yaya Toure, Milner, Silva, Nasri, Tevez
What is noticeable is that the change between the starting line ups from January 10 to April 11 is a fair bit more pronounced than that from April 11 to April 13. The Wembley team looks a lot like a Mancini team of today might look – 9 of the Wembley team have featured regularly for us this season whereas only four of the CC team has. This of course reflects the major rebuilding of the team done in the summer of 2010 – Given, Garrido, Wright Phillips, Boyata and Bellamy were no longer first team choices by the beginning of the 10/11 season, being replaced by new signings such as Silva, Yaya Toure and Kolarov, and the return of Joe Hart from his loan spell at Birmingham.

So if you strip out the results produced by the teams Mancini inherited from his predecessor (Mark Hughes, obviously) and look solely at the results Mancini’s teams have achieved, we have a rather better record against them than they do against us, especially if you attach less importance to the Community Shield. Since the beginning of the 10/11 season, we have played Them eight times (not including the Community Shield) and beaten them four times, drawing once and losing three. The total goals for and against is much happier reading too – 15 for and 10 against. Moreover, if you look at just the last two seasons, again excluding the Community Shield, in the five ‘competitive’ matches we have beaten them three times, and their victory in the FA Cup was somewhat anomalous for two reasons – first, Kompany was of course sent off so early that 90% of the match was 10 v 11, and secondly both sides had played slightly less than full strength teams given that it was the 3rd round rather than for instance a semi final.

To put the same point in perhaps a different way, in Mancini’s first five games against the rags we won only once, but of the next 6 fully competitive games we have won four of them. Added to that is the fact that the two really massive, trophy-defining matches of the last two years have both been won by us. Admittedly, Mancini’s very first encounter with them (with the team he inherit from Hughes) was a semi final which we lost, and there is no doubting how much that hurt at the time, nor how glad they were to stop us from winning a trophy at long last at least for another year. But since then, on both occasions where the derby has had a massive influence of the eventual destiny of a trophy (the Wembley semi final and the PL game last April) we have beaten them. Wembley was a significant game: the first ever Manchester derby played at Wembley, with the winners being Clear favourites to win the tournament, and we beat them. Last April was one of the most intensively watched, high stakes/high pressure games that you will ever witness in domestic football in any part of the world, and we beat them: where we stepped up to the plate when the world was watching from South America to Japan, they bottled it.

So if you look at the head-to-head record in recent times, we come out of it significantly ahead of Them, as three league wins in the last four matches shows. Our trend as against them is firmly on the up, whereas theirs against us is heading downwards.

Another measure of this is the way we have approached derby games: Mancini was criticised in his first home league derby for being too defensive. He later explained that it was a lot more important to avoid defeat at that point of our development, that we could cope much better with the absence of a victory than we could with a defeat, and with the benefit of hindsight he was spot on. The rags were there for the taking that night, but we didn’t necessarily have a team which was ready to take them. Later that same season, much the same team was by then ready take them, and did so at Wembley. Now, home or away we go into every game against them with our primary objective being not merely to avoid defeat, but to beat them. Of course, as fans, lots of us did that anyway: but nowadays it is realistic, and we have more ammunition than just our passion and desire.

This I think is significant: there is I believe somewhere else on the forum a thread in which Mancini’s merits as a manager are debated, but one way (not the only way by a long chalk) of testing his merits is to see how he fares against the pisscan. Whatever faults Taggart has, I can’t remember many seasons where the scum have finished outside the top two in the last 20 years, nor are there many seasons in which they have finished trophyless, so a good head-to-head record against him is not to be sniffed at.

Statistically and tactically Mancini comes out ahead. The home league games against the scum in 10/11 and 11/12 are an interesting illustration of this. In 11/12 they went into the game as we did in 10/11, the primary objective being to avoid defeat. The difference is that we achieved our objective, they did not, and when they set out for a draw they had the league title on the line. We all saw Taggart lose it that day on the touchline. He doesn’t like losing to us, no manager likes losing derby matches. But he couldn’t handle us taking the league title away from him in front of his eyes and being unable to do anything about it. We now go into derby day cautious, but anticipating a win home or away. Before the 6-1 we went in to derby day hopeful of victory but not really expecting it. The shift in attitude that has been achieved in this respect – our strong new mentality, if you like – is in my view Mancini’s third most important achievement at City, coming behind only the ending of the 35 year trophy free period, and bringing the first title home since 1968. Mancini may or may not be the manager for the next three seasons: but if he is, mark my words, regularly beating the scum will be a hallmark of his tenure. In future years, as last year, having the edge over the scum in the head to heads might have a big impact on the final destination of the title.

There are some other interesting statistics which arise under Mancini. Joe Hart has kept goal against Them under Mancini eight times, has kept three clean sheets and has let in a total of ten goals including three in the Comm Shield – so seven goals conceded in seven fully competitive games. By contrast, De Gea has kept goal against us five times (also including the Comm Shield). He is yet to keep a clean sheet against us and has let in 13 goals in total, 11 of them in matches other than the community shield. The only time he has not conceded at least two goals was last April, the game that set us up to win the league.

More concerning, under Mancini we have entered injury time in a game against Them with the scores level on five occasions (I include the CCSF in this, as although we were losing 2-1 on the night the tie was level at 3-3). Only once however have we then gone on to draw the game. The Community Shield is a little anomalous in that when they scored the winner, we had piled everybody upfield in search for a winner ourselves, something we probably would not have done if extra time or a draw had been available. It is also noticeable that two of those four last minute winners came in Mancini’s first half-season, namely the CCSF and Scholes’ header at our place in the league. Nonetheless, it is a concerning statistic.

On the other hand, we have entered injury time against them level or ahead in 9 games of the 12 we have played under Mancini. It says something about them (something we have learned from) that so many times they have found last minute winners against us, but whatever that says about their mentality, it suggests that for the last two or three or years they have been inferior or at least no better than us over 90 minutes in terms of pure ability, but (until recently) ahead in terms of self-belief. Moreover, all of our wins against Them under Mancini have been by a single goal margin other than the 6-1 (where they were of course down to 10 men): so even though they have scored four late winners, not once have they scored a late equaliser against us under Mancini. It is a curious feature of their much vaunted self belief that – at least against us – they can drag themselves ahead when they are level and the game enters time added on, but they cannot drag themselves level when they are behind and time is almost up.

A similar curiosity is the fact that in the 11 games under Mancini against Them which have not ended in draws, the team which has scored first has won on nine occasions – and of the other two, one was the CCSF which is slightly anomalous because it is played over two legs and the other was the Community Shield. So in every fully competitive game in which the result was decided on that occasion, the team who scored first went on to win the game. Of course it can happen that a team comes from behind to win, but the importance of the first goal cannot be over emphasised.

Speaking of which, it is worth thinking about the style in which they have scored against us. A very large proportion of their goals against us have come from either fast breaks or balls delivered from wide areas (or both). By my reckoning, 14 of the 18 goals conceded under Mancini against them have come in one of these two ways. For every time they score from a long shot (eg Fletcher in the 6-1) or play their way through us (Nani in the Comm Shield) they score three or four on the break or by whipping in balls from wide positions. It was noticeable on Monday night that they seemed most dangerous on the break and from set pieces. We have played them four times since the 6-1 and it has been noticeable every time since that they have set themselves up to defend in depth but counter attack at pace, moving the ball out wide at the earliest opportunity. It is again a tacit acknowledgement that if they go at us toe-to-toe they expect to come off second best, but they see another way to beat us. In his post match interview on Monday Mancini seemed to be hinting that they are starting to play anti-football, and he seems to have a point at least when it comes to playing us: contain and press hard, and hope to score on the break or with a set piece. Stoke and Everton do much the same thing.

By contrast, our goals against them have come in a number of ways: we have sliced them open several times (whether playing 10 or 11), we have loaded pressure on them until they have broken, we have scored with fast breaks, shots from distance and headers from set pieces, we have pounced on their mistakes, we have kept possession and made it count by working an opportunity. (We have curiously had only one penalty given against them in the last 12 meetings, which is a little odd given how frequently we get them generally.) Monday was not the first time recently that they have been given a footballing lesson by us. I think in derby games of the next few years a common feature will be that win lose or draw we will have more possession than them and the goals we score will largely come as a result of that, whereas the goals they score will largely come from breaks and set pieces.

There’s lots more that you could say about our recent derbies, but for now, I have drunk my fill, no thanks to the media. It is uncomfortable that we seem to be particularly vulnerable to last minute winners, that we are vulnerable to wide balls whipped into the box and to fast counter attacks. On the other hand, we are better than them: simply being better doesn’t guarantee victory, as their last 2 wins at our place have shown, but it does produce the situation (as the stats demonstrate) that we are winning more games against them than we are losing. Given how many times they have finished as either champions or runners up in the last 20 years, and given the number of trophies they have won in that time, that is not a bad yardstick of how good a team Mancini has built.

Now, Chelsea.

A number of City players were in action in World Cup Qualifiers for their respective countries on Friday night, with varying degrees of success. Thankfully, there were no fresh injuries to report, if only because the likes of Micah Richards and Jack Rodwell weren’t called up due to, um, injury.

Joe Hart and Joleon Lescott each put in a heroic shift, as England’s brave lions repelled wave after wave of San Marino attacks and escaped with a somewhat fortuitous 8-0 smash and grab victory.

Aleksandar Kolarov, meanwhile, did his bit to help maintain to Dayton Peace Accord by generously gifting a goal to Croatia striker Mario Mandzukic. The Croats eventually ran out 2-0 winners in a convival atmosphere in Zagreb.

Kolarov’s Balkan team mate Edin Dzeko fared somewhat better, scoring a brace as Bosnia and Herzegovina ran out 3-1 winners against Greece. He’s clearly been holding back the goals for his club recently in preparation for the international break.

David Silva briefly thought he was ten men during Spain’s 1-1 draw with Finland, squaring up to all and sundry like a drunk at last orders. Incredibly Javi Garcia was once again overlooked in favour of the likes of Cesc Fabregas, Andreas Iniesta and Sergio Busquets. He’ll end up as the Matt Le Tissier of his generation at this rate.

Tuesday night sees England face Montenegro (featuring Stefan Savic and reported target Stevan Jovetic), whilst Spain face a crucial tie against France. Presumably Garcia was being held back for this one. Vincent Kompany could be recalled to the Belgian side to face Macedonia, and Aleksandar Kolarov will be expecting an easier run-out against Group A whipping boys Scotland.

The analogy may be to a sixth-form standard but it’s hard not to compare Mario Balotelli’s all-too-brief stopover to our shores as a firework; a fizzing, eruptive, exuberant Roman candle not flared through a bathroom window but ignited across our dull English skies.

To a fusty old nation that supposedly celebrates eccentricity he was a figure utterly beyond our comprehension; a beautiful black teen who would have dripped with the arrogance of a deity if he could be so bothered as to actually break sweat.

Instead he brooded, sauntered and swaggered on our pitches, boned a succession of blondes, and idled his latest supercar through Moss Side with a walletful of cash, his stone-cold belief that he was blessed with a supernatural talent entombed in a mind that perplexed the mainstream and greatly amused the rest.

To challenge conformity and stretch the starchy fabric of Blighty it is usually necessary to take to the streets with sticks and rocks. Balotelli merely lifted up his shirt, stood still, glared, and asked a simple question, and as he did so a frenzied mania grew around him. Myths akin to folklore spread from hamlet to hamlet whilst the tabloids appeased our conservative, sex-with-our-socks-on ways by turning football’s most compelling figure for a generation – our only punk in a league of boyband pap – into a cartoon. But as with all rare creatures our fascination with the mercurial soon enough became smothering – like Lenny from Of Mice And Men stroking a young girl’s hair – and Mario Balotelli became an alien alienated.

As with Cantona and Gazza before him first we are enamoured to the point of obsession. Then we demonise.

But it was not always us. Its one thing to become an enemy of the state – the legions of Sandra and Clives who scoff over their cornflakes at the latest, media-exaggerated ‘madcap antic’ – but it’s quite another to piss off the meat and potato supporter. Their tolerance to the pampered, multi-millionaire superstars of today is commendable in the extreme considering how sharply the modern game conflicts with their traditional idylls. But at the very least a compromise must be reached with application put in to even slightly justify the exorbitant wages. Such basic application was beneath Balo: he knew the gifts he possessed and only deigned to hint at them when in a generous mood. Whereas Cantona and Gazza produced in spades Balotelli sulked, stropped and indulged in lazy backheels into an opponent’s legs. How apt that one of his most iconic moments – the cool-as-f*** close-ranger against Norwich – was a shrug of his shoulder.

With the general public believing any far-fetched nonsense as fact and his own kind – football folk – now exasperated too far at his insouciance there left only his loco parentis Mancini fighting his corner. Until even the fiery City boss fought his prodigy in a training ground bust-up that brought yet more unwanted headlines and the game was royally up.

But that still left me, and despite reading nothing but vitriol in the past 24 hours from the haters who will miss the madness infinitely more than they realise, I’m convinced I’m not alone.

Mario Balotelli evokes the kind of hero-worship in me that I haven’t experienced since I was a teen poring through the NME and devouring every laconic word whispered by Ian Brown.  The Italian is a powder keg of brilliance and lunacy, genius and child, a fascinating discordance of extremes that transcends football and takes us into the realms of rock and roll, comedy, soap opera and a psychiatrist’s chair. He is the epitome of the contradictory, multifaceted nature of man that Walt Whitman once celebrated with the following words – “I am large. I contain multitudes.”

In a sport awash with the bland and one-dimensional he was excitement and attitude writ large. And I f***ing loved him for that.

To those who are glad to see the back of him not for football reasons but because the accompanying circus routinely prompted a scowl – you are a 21^st century string-vest, watching Ziggy Stardust explode the minds of a generation on a black and white telly and grumpily enquiring “Is he some kind of puff or what?” You are only able to find exhilaration in the familiar and it so rarely dwells there.

To the others who view the past two and a half years as a waste of talent and promise your reasoning undeniably has substance but though the magic was sporadic what magic it was.

A man of the match performance in Manchester City’s first cup final in living memory, a goal celebration that will be forever cherished, and setting up a goal back in May that reduced me and my kin to blub out a lifetime of hurt.

As unsavoury a thought as this is, such moments outweigh a whole career of graft and grit from any player who bleeds the hue of his shirt.

Yet, in keeping with the contradictions that surround the man and myth, as much as I love Mario I’m not sorry to see him leave. In recent months the enigma had become a Where’s Wally with even the devilment absent from his few cameo appearances.

Maybe it’s not that though. Maybe it’s because you should always walk away from a lit firework. Watch it fizz and crackle across the sky and head back to normality, smiling as you go.