The City fan's column in the Guardian:
A weekend for tearful farewells. Highbury, Dennis Bergkamp, possibly Thierry Henry with that magnificent hat-trick-scoring, turf-kissing final gesture. Big Bad Duncan Ferguson at Everton, magenta-toned Steve McClaren at Middlesbrough, and Oxford United relegated from the Football League. (Their former chairman, Bob Maxwell, must be turning in Davy Jones' locker, so to speak.) I even found myself moved by that record-breaking automaton Alan Shearer when he said his ta-tas to Newcastle.
Most moving of all, though, was Shaun Goater's farewell to English football. The Goat was a true role model. He represented the triumphs of hope over expectation, altruism over selfishness, fluky off-the-arse-deflections over magnificent 30-yard chips, education over yobbery - forget Graeme Le Saux, the Goat was the best-spoken player of his generation.
Most famously the Goat inspired the greatest football chant of our age. With the allusive wit of TS Eliot and the sampling genius of Kanye West, Manchester City fans transformed the famous lines from the hymn Guide Me, O Thou Great Jehovah from "Bread of Heaven/Feed Me Till I want No More" into "Feed the Goat and he will score/ Feed the Goat and he will score." Magnificent.
Goater was always a fighter. He was born in Bermuda, educated in America and, at 17, found himself on trial at Old Trafford. Thankfully he was rejected.
The Goat never had it easy though. He was cruelly named in an all-time Ugly XI at uglyfootballers.com and, while it is true that his ears were of a size which made him unlikely to ever win a Mr Bermuda contest, he soon revealed his inner beauty at the clubs he blessed with his presence - Rotherham United, Notts County, Bristol City, Manchester City, Reading, Coventry City and, latterly, Southend United.