City 1 Bolton 0

What a beautiful day to watch your team win. Sun is shining, weather is sweet, makes you wanna move your dancing feet, Gláuber Berti gets a kick (no kidding!) and Wonder Woman and Banana Man lend their support to City.

Before the game there's a carnival atmosphere outside the ground. Josh Wink's 'Higher State of Consciousness' blasting from the dodgems, young children (and my 30-year old co-reporter) having joyous fun on the bouncy castle, double-take as Scooby-Doo asks if I want to buy a match day programme, Daniel Sturridge posing like Kanye West as he looks for autographs to sign. Wonderful.

Inside the stadium and first things first, let's get a pie! For your info, the brand of pie you get at Eastlands is 'Pukka'. We go for Steak flavour all round. Good choice! Cooked to perfection. Full marks to the young lady operating the microwave. We can all appreciate how difficult it is using that method to reheat pastry. A long career in catering beckons.

We take to our seats, 3rd tier East and central. The players emerge to a crescendo of noise. ManTwitty is surprised to see SWP out there - thought he was going under the knife? The game is underway and City make a bright start. Robinho, Superman and Richards combining in the 8th minute with devastating effect to setup Philipe (where's my cello gone?) Caceido for what turns out to be the game's only goal.

SWP threatens again from far-range bringing a fine save from Bolton's number 1. Slowly the Trotters get a foot hold with decent possession but are unable to fashion a clear cut chance in the first half. Robinho starts to display his box of tricks and rattles the post whilst De Jong continues to protect the defence like a composed Rottweiler. Dunne and Onouha performing with quiet efficiency.

Half time 1-0. Time for a Singha. Unfortunately 15-minutes isn't enough time to get served. The beer department should consult with their pie counterparts for tips on efficiency and excellence. Return to seat for 2nd half after bladder relief. City continue having the upper hand without creating any outstanding chances. Player of the season '2-Grans' is substituted to a standing ovation. Replaced by young right winger Weiss who likes a step over or three and clearly has some potential.

Who's this on the pitch? He looks like Ireland's fatter brother! It's some goon spectator (thankfully he's not naked) who evades the stewards to dance over to the centre circle. He's hotly pursued by security guards doing an impression of a Benny Hill sketch minus the mini-skirted blonds and a height challenged slap-head. This guy's got a turn of pace like Usain Bolt and can shimmy like Fred Estaire. Spotting the heavies on his tail he diverts to the stands. He's made his point, the point being he's a d*ck. Approaching the front row he's confronted by another man in day-glo orange. No bother for Fred. He pulls another audacious move, spinning round the flapping steward and evading the guards before disappearing Houdini-like into the bowels of the stadium. Class.

But the entertainment isn't over. Hughes shows his sentimental side by introducing Berti, who's spent the season either on the bench or on his PlayStation. Never had a second on the pitch. Supporters have been debating if this moment would come to pass and Hughes truly obliges. Berti debuts to a tumultuous reception. The Bolton fans are bemused, who is this messiah? Surely Messi or Kaka couldn't raise the decibel-level as high.

Bolton continue to be unimpressive and City hold on with ease for the victory. The players go on a 'lap of thanks' and we all go home with our hearts filled with joy, belief and hope of a better future.

'til next time,
ManTwitty.