When I arrived at my local pub yesterday lunchtime, I was surprised to find a coachload of 50 or more Manchester City supporters who had stopped off for a beer and a snack on their way to Wembley for the FA Cup semi-final.
They were a good natured lot, even after we regulars pointed out that the landlord is a Manchester United supporter and that Roger, the Saturday barman, is a Millwall fan.
The banter was first class, and as the pints flowed the organiser promised that if City won, the coachload would have to come back to their 'lucky' pub.
Before leaving, the fans assembled in the pub garden with their scarves and banners, and gave us a few of their songs and chants, while their pals filmed them on their mobiles.
I am, as a rule, indifferent to football, but I had to watch the match, impelled by the thought of how happy those MC fans would be if they got a result. One older chap had said to me: "My heart says yes, but my head says no" and added: "If we score just one, the roof will come off Wembley".
I was chuffed to bits when City won, and we now look forward to welcoming them back to the pub next time.
It made my day.
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