Mike Summerbee

Guards of Honour: The Mancunian Way

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Two guards of honour for players going off in a game. A game, the final one of the season, and the last one under the stewardship of Josep “Pep” Guardiola Sala: one that would fade to memories for the final dose of football but live on for the best gaffer in the land and all the world. A decade of emotions from losses to evolution to triumph.

After a deserved wait, a huge guard of honour at full time came for former players (Gundogan and Ederson) returning to receive a proper farewell. Then for the outgoing club legends John Stones and Bernardo Silva. Each as decorated as their manager. Each battlers and proud servants of the badge, colours, and Manchester. Their football did the talking and if clearing a ball with 11mm to spare shows you anything: the boys in blue never give in.

Pep Guardiola bowed out with his 95 year old Dad present. Pep has mentioned his mother passing away previously and the support fans and the club gave him. Video messages from former club custodian Manuel Akanji, and others, mentioned the camaraderie and protection for incoming players. Hats off to anyone who can tolerate Mancunian weather – having come from warmer climates! The message was clear, City are more than a football club. You see it with the youth and women’s teams. Manchester City is a family. Now the Guardiola name will brandish the North Stand. A tie for life.

The farewell ceremony’s incredible atmosphere capped a fine period of football stretching back to 2016. No manager has had such an impact on English football or enjoyed such a send off. The Noisy Neighbours may say otherwise and much will be debated, written, and accolades given. The Mancunian Way should be closed and a police escort to allow Pep and family to drive out undisturbed on his next adventure. What a journey!

I can’t believe all the skriking about something players on the field wanted to be part of. I have never seen this guards of honour going off the field once, let alone twice. Those feelings will stick with both sets of players, fans, and be seen by youngsters. Who wouldn’t want to be like Bernardo or Stones after their career?! What an example of sportsmanship and love for the game. The officiating even spotted the moment and I’m sure VAR edited Foden’s cheeks out of line with the guard of honour.

The only way to end is with the honours earned since Pep took over. Practically mad levels of rewards. It speaks for itself. The human side has done plenty of speaking and has been felt throughout the stands week after week. We’ve experienced some of the best football ever: a treble, domestic doubles, 100 points, and lovely trophy parades. So, what now?

Premier League x 6

2017–18, 2018–19, 2020–21, 2021–22, 2022–23, 2023–24 (4 in a row)

FA Cup x 3

2018–19, 2022–23, 2025–26

EFL League Cup x 5

2017–18, 2018–19, 2019–20, 2020–21 (4 in a row), 2025–26

FA Community Shield x 3

2018, 2019, 2024

UEFA Champions League

2022–23

UEFA Super Cup

2023

FIFA Club World Cup

2023

Monday’s after party:

The event lasted too long yet just the right amount of content. Nothing felt out of place and it celebrated players and Pep leaving, showcased our Youth and Women’s team, whilst giving a platform to coaches, backroom staff and can opportunity for our fans to cheer and see the spectacle.

Lining trophies up interwoven amongst club legends past, present, Pep’s family and playing out to a backdrop of local musical brothers and their banging tunes sent the energy higher than any forced chant. Doves ticked all the boxes. Mike Summerbee and Vincent Kompany, alongside a variety of legends, family, and coaches carried in each of Pep’s 20 trophies. The Coop Live bounced.

Now, what’s the name of my new favourite Catalan band? Manel? Must add that song to my Pep era list. It’s been a blast.

The feeling.

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115 charges! Cheats! Empty seats. Typed, chanted, and slung at us like shit.

Where’s your European Cup? One charge and you fucked it up. That feeling when the ball hits the net.

Is this a library? Empty seats on tour. Name your greatest hit.

It’s going to VAR. How much did you pay the referee? The head beaded in sweat.

Where were you when you were shit? Your fans are from London. Remember the first time as you emerged in the Kippax.

Who are you? Small town in Stockport. The away day journey debate.

Programmes, get your programmes. The ruined weekends piled in stacks.

That painful loss. Old Trafford rocking. Swallow me up by eight.

They let us down. Why the fuck are you still here? Football blighted.

Replays of 93:20 Magical cheats! Fresh air or an armchair.

Tension, glorious tension. Squeaky bum time. Love City, hate U****d.

Squashed in at trophy parades. Feels unfair. Just a sack of air.

The Old Black and Green, Steve Moore selling programmes, the Dias stand bouncing.

Editor’s deadline, adverts flowing, whistles blowing, and Abba playing loud.

Winter’s away days over land and sea – and Stretford or Llansantffraid for a trouncing.

The full time shriek and the roar of the faithful crowd.

The hugs with Paul Lake, the ground that did shake, the moments.

Sergio, Silva, and Kompany alongside Lee, Bell, and Summerbee.

Moments we did. Moments we didn’t. The newly built monuments.

Trautmann out-stretched, Bell on a stand, Book End it should be.

Years from now moments in the stands with mates, old and new.

Holding fanzines, that’s where we’ll be: stretching out cheering you.

Don’t go against your own. Play on. Play strong. Play in Blue and White.

But most of all, Boys In Blue Never give in: do it right.

The Bear Necessities

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Bern, baby Bern. What a glorious city with the river Aare horseshoe-shaped around the glorious Altstadt. The capital of Bern is as green as it is old-carved rocks. Sweeping views from the Bundehaus parliament buildings look out onto the distant Swiss Alps. Autumn leaves fall and mingle with stray butterflies, whilst the odd buzz of a bee makes a passerby question the seasons.

Starting with a walk from Newton Heath to Manchester at an ungodly hour, a steady train to Manchester Airport led to a wander to terminal three. Here, Ryanair had more priority boarding passengers than regular folk. A swift 7am flight to Cologne and Bonn Airport preceded a quick train to Köln, long before lunchtime. After an expansive and expensive salad, the train to Basel SBB station in Switzerland was equally hurried. The most part of the journey on flat land with the Rhein river close by and the foothills of the Black Forest gateaux mountains to the east.

Arriving at Bern for teatime meant a long day. Checking into the cosy Hostel 77, it would have been rude not to wander around the darkened old town in the evening. Spying a light show on the Bundeshaus parliament frontage and Manchester City’s travelling coaches were pleasant experiences but the haunting bells of

Outside of wanders around the UNESCO heritage medieval covered shops and fountains along the streets, a trip out of town by train to Thun was on the cards. The 101/100 zone tourist ticket covered two zones. A further 28 Swiss Francs covered the 6 zones of the journey. Within 30 minutes, it was possible to visit Thun and see the castle, many great Alpine mountain peaks, and the Eiger (from a distance). As a child seeing George Lazenby star as spy-womaniser James Bond, 007, the scenes from On Her Majesty’s Secret Service looked breathtaking. From a distance, I could imagine scenes from Ian Fleming’s text and varied Bond movies.

On my pocket, Anthony Horowitz’s With A Mind To Kill, didn’t get any reading time. The views from Thun and the exhibition of Manchester City’s under-19 team in the UEFA Youth League playing at the Stockhorn Arena was enough entertainment. The 10,000-seater stadium was about 8% full. Maybe 9%. I’m sure a statistician would question my maths. The four goals for City were as majestic as the surrounding views, and the Stockhornbahn AG-sponsored stadium was atmospheric. The young crowd enthusiastically cheering on both City and the hosts BSC Young Boys.

As Mike Summerbee and Nedum Onuoha, amongst others, watched on, the view of the Eiger and surrounds featured rainbows (perhaps Switzerland has pots of gold), clouds and glorious sunshine. The stadium is named after a cable car company named after a mountain and Fussballclub Thun 1898, who operate the stadium and put on a good show. Free entrance. Much needed.

The trip was, of course, to see Manchester City grace the hallowed AstroTurf of BSC Young Boys at the Wankdorf Stadium. The game was a bash. Manager Pep Guardiola shuffled his hand on the ground built over a Co-Op supermarket and a plethora of shops. The blue and whites made to work hard for their win left with three Champions League points and probably a few AstroTurf grazes. I don’t miss those days!

The joy of the light show at the Bundeshaus, a wander (or two) in Köln, a quick walk to the Wasserturm in Mannheim, and all the bits in between lasted from Tuesday to Thursday. So much to do. So much to see. So little time. Treasure life. Peace and love.

In Memory of Francis Lee

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Franny Lee was to many Blues, something to everyone. It’s hard to grow up in a City household or one of football and not know the greats of each club. Usually, it’s the big clubs. Often, the clubs who are making the most impact at the time. The name Franny Lee will be known to many Citizens.

As part of the treble trinity that was Bell, Lee and Summerbee, those who watched City from ’67 to ’74 will know of Lee. Those who followed City from 1994 will know Lee experienced an ill-fated spell as Chairman. His heart was there. City and the off-field conditions were not. Those who knew of the Maine Road to City of Manchester Stadium transition will know that Lee was involved behind the scenes. In fact, Lee sold his final shares in 2007 to Thaksin Shinawatra. Without Franny appointing Alan Ball, City may never have had fan favourites and legends in Georgi Kinkladze and Paul Dickov. Relegation and promotions may have happened differentl. Who knows.

The Forwards With Franny and We Want Franny badges have their place in time. What can never be argued against is that the former Bolton Wanderers player Francis Lee fell in love with City. Lee One Pen, as he was known for his penalty taking (and gaining) would have been a Video Assistant Referee nightmare had the game have had such technology then. Following retirement and games at Derby County (where he won the league), the ex-England forward went into business selling toilet rolls and other things.

Franny Lee cut an imposing figure on the field, and I can see why my Dad and Grandad rewatched VHS highlights and instilled my passion I to City’s history. At one time, growing up, history was all we had, but through players like Franny Lee, I could connect to glory long before 2011 arrived and City’s purchase power of Brasso became legendary once again.

I didn’t see him play, but I did say hello, get the odd signed bit, here and there. I listened to interviews on television as I grew into following City at an early age. Manchester City’s characters like Lee, and moments like the Ricky Hatton-style punch up with Norman Hunter, or those photos from the league win in Newcastle, will always stand out. And the shirt. Iconic. The style. The class. Footballers now don’t wear shirts in the same way. Franny Lee made the shirt his. Around 250 games with almost half as many goals is a statement statistic to be proud of, for any City player.

Born in Westhoughton, Franny Lee was drawn here. He never left. Not deep down. He’ll always be behind us. Even in absence. A true legend of the game. Eternally, one of our own.

Francis Henry Lee CBE (29th April 1944 – 2nd October 2023), always known as Franny Lee