Allow me to set the scene: Europe’s most illustrious sporting competition, the irrefutable pinnacle of European club football, where the very best managers pit the very best players of the moment against each other.

How could you ever not be engrossed by a night of UEFA Champions League football?

Well, maybe ask the fans of eight-time Premier League champions, and winners of the competition itself, Manchester City. After all, on a night where they were set to go to battle with Greece’s reigning champions, they couldn’t even draw a big enough crowd to fill two-thirds of their Etihad stadium.

To put this in the context of other Premier League clubs, Manchester City’s attendance was lower than what Sunderland managed to muster up for their first European game in 53 years, and only a few thousand more than Aston Villa managed against Norwegian underdogs Viking FK (note: Aston Villa are currently missing an ENTIRE stand…).

Just last month, Manchester United packed Old Trafford with over 73,000 fans for their first Champions League fixture of the campaign. Against whom, you ask? Bayern Munich? Barcelona? Nope. Against Sabah FK, of The Azerbaijani Premier League for those of you rusty on your Transcaucasian football.

Despite Manchester City fans lacking the effort to come out and support their team for this European fixture, the effort on the pitch was quite the opposite, as their team put on a commanding display, showcasing their quality and flair from the first kick of the ball.

Despite this, though, the best team to support on the night was without doubt AEK Athens, whose fans sustained a party atmosphere for about two hours straight, regardless of what the scoreboard said.

Luckily for me, my Cypriot friend, Mike, is an AEK Athens fanatic. Therefore, he was able to source me a ticket with one of Greece’s largest organised supporters’ (ultras) groups: Original 21.

Original 21 is made up of several subgroups – accommodating for its fanbase spread across both Greece and Cyprus – and I would be accompanying the Limassol faction for the evening.

The afternoon started in the prophetically named Shambles Square, where a few hundred AEK Athens fans and I were spread across the three medieval pubs nestled in the city centre.

A few guys from the group I was with had been at the previous week’s Champions League fixture versus Shaktar Donestk (who are playing their European home games at Stamford Bridge rather than in the war-torn Donetsk Oblast region of Ukraine), making Manchester the final destination of their week-long UK tour. Two of the guys, for example, had used their weekend here to attend Leeds versus Manchester United before flying back to Cyprus after the City game.

If I’m being honest, I felt like an imposter from the outset. Largely because my Greek doesn’t extend much further than A-level Physics equations, but also because I was hearing about fans who had flown all the way out from Greece only to be sitting with the City fans, having failed to get a ticket in the away end. Meanwhile, I’d be nestled among those who live and breathe AEK. However, in true Hellenic fashion, I was warmly welcomed in no time, as though I’d been smashing plates and scoffing gyros my whole life.

So, soon enough, it was time for this herd to make its way out of Shambles Square and to the stadium. At about two and a half hours before kick-off, I slotted into the yellow-and-black stampede, and we made our way towards Manchester Victoria. Believe me, the scene in there was absurd. The station was simply awash with AEK fans – and a sea of commuters with their phone cameras out to match.

We were gradually escorted along the platform before barging our way on to one of the mustard-yellow trams labelled ‘Etihad Campus’. What an awful time it would’ve been to be idly reading a book on your way home from work, or taking a phone call, as one poor commuter was. The Athens fans are a very polite and well-meaning bunch – giving their seats up for others, for example – but boy, do they let the locals know they’ve arrived.

When we pulled in at the tram’s first stop, the driver waited a good twenty minutes before setting off again, which I can only presume was due to the fear of bouncing AEK fans causing the tram to lurch off the tracks. That tram ride, coincidentally, was the only place I can recall from the entire night where I wasn’t having cigarette smoke blown in my face – the only much-needed respite my freshers’ flu-recovering lungs received.

The tram finally pulled in alongside a rain-sodden Etihad, where we were then escorted around half the stadium to the away section. Once we reached the away end entrance, the stewards decided to leave us waiting outside in the rain like cattle until our section had been called (obviously, I was in Level Three – the last of the sections to be called). However, I am now very well versed in the Greek for ‘Level One’ and ‘Level Two’.

Finally, though, with about 40 minutes left until kick-off, we made it into the ground – welcomed by the signage along the stairs up to the top, peppered with ‘AEK’ and ‘Original 21’ stickers.

When we made it out to the stand and located our seats, there happened to be a bloke sitting in my seat. No biggie for an away day, of course, but with it being a good while before kick off, I reckoned he would probably just ask his mates to shuffle along one. But the guy I was supposed to be sitting next to – a charming yet Cesc Fàbregas-looking fella – just said to me: “There are no seats here, mate.” So, we went and grabbed the empty seats on the row behind.

As kick-off approached, the atmosphere in the away end just grew and grew. When the announcer read out the Manchester City line-up, the whistles from the AEK fans were frankly deafening – it would seem that every continental football fan is born with the innate ability to call upon any sheepdog within a 100-mile radius.

At the front of our tier was a man in a curly yellow wig whose job, as far as I could tell, was to be our conductor. He’d lean on the edge of the railing, communicating with someone in the lower tier to coordinate these magnificent chants that bounced between the top and bottom sections of the away end. He seemingly had a role very high up among the AEK ultras, because whatever he said went. He could silence, sit and bounce an entire crowd.

Eventually, the players walked out to everyone’s favourite – yet slightly worsened – football anthem, and the game got underway.

Although the away side did start strongly, with a couple chances in the first five minutes, Man City were simply ruthless going forward. Watching Rayan Cherki, Phil Foden and Allan work in sync and bear down on that AEK defence was terrifying.

I think the best way to describe watching City play in person is this: imagine the best cross-field passes and roof-of-the-net finishes you’ve ever seen from players of the team you support – the ones that make you go, “They could not have hit that any sweeter.” That’s what City players do every single time, without fail. You give Phil Foden just a metre more space than you should, enough room for him to get a shot off, and you will pay the price.

Unfortunately, AEK Athens fell victim to that several times throughout the evening, with the game ending 5-1 to Manchester City. Nevertheless, the scenes when that AEK goal went in (just after half-time, with the team two goals down) were absolutely absurd. Our yellow-wigged friend really was in full-swing after that.

Usually, you’d say the jubilation was short-lived, as Cherki slotted one into the AEK net just five minutes later, but that was never going to dampen the mood in that away end. Even as the fourth and fifth went in, the AEK fans just leaned into it and made the most of their night out at the Etihad. They even started mocking the City fans with their superb broken-English chants, my favourite of which was “Championship, Championship, Championship”, in the midst of City’s 114 guilty charges of breaking Premier League financial rules.

The final whistle blew at last, though, marking the end of my first Champions League away day. The AEK Athens players, having put on a valiant display, strolled over to face three tiers of AEK fans, with their club’s scarves held proudly above their heads and the chorus of chants persisting.

Although it was a display of excellence on the pitch from Manchester City, you can’t help but feel that many will have left that stadium with the highest-held respect for the unwaveringly passionate AEK Athens fans. And for me… an evening straight from my bucket list. As much as I love British football culture, I don’t think you could find a set of fans like that anywhere on these isles – for better or for worse – and certainly not among Manchester City’s supporters.