YOU may think I'm being blinded by bias, but I'm willing to bet that the organisers of the Melbourne Commonwealth Games have been silently cursing Manchester as they've laboured to stitch together one of world sport's finest spectacles over the past couple of years.

For in one sense, a Commonwealth Games is no different from a game of football. The last result is the one what counts. And in the minds of the millions who will tune into the opening ceremony in Melbourne early tomorrow morning, there will be the memory of a couple of summer weeks in 2002 when the Games came to Manchester.

Comparisons will be made between Manchester then and Melbourne now. And I have nothing but sympathy for our Australian cousins. For however spectacular and meticulously-planned the Melbourne Games turn out to be, I find it impossible to believe that they will come even close to matching the standards of excellence or the way an entire city responded when Manchester hosted the Commonwealth Games four years ago.

I have a confession to make. I had mixed feelings when the Games came to this city in the summer of 2002. I wasn't sure how my fellow Manuncians would react.

A major football tournament in Manchester? No problem. Full houses guaranteed. The Aussies at Old Trafford in an Ashes Test? Think back to last summer. Tickets were like gold dust. But the Commonwealth Games in our city? Would we turn out in numbers to watch a game of ping-pong or a muscle-bound Scot heaving an impossible weight above his head? Those were the doubts running through my mind.

History

What a fool I was for doubting the people who live in and around this great city. Manchester didn't just host the 2002 Commonwealth Games. It took the Games to its bosom like no city has ever done before and - in my opinion - like no city will ever do again. It was the greatest Commonwealth Games in history.

That is the impossible task facing the organisers of the 2006 Games. How can you match the absolute perfection of the Manchester Games? You can't.

What are my abiding memories of that fortnight in Manchester of four years ago? Funnily enough, the images which burned their way into my mind are nothing to do with some of the wonderful performances I witnessed inside the City of Manchester Stadium in both track and field.

I recall sitting in the Press box at Eastlands watching the opening ceremony, which became more mind-boggling the longer it went on. Do you remember the female aerialist who floated into the stadium carrying the torch? My jaw dropped open as I watched her. I couldn't see the wires. I actually thought she was flying.

But for a few moments that evening I was like a spell-bound school-kid.

I remember one night walking from the City of Manchester Stadium into the centre of the city to catch a train back to Hazel Grove. I walked through areas where I would never normally venture into on foot after the sun had gone down. Once again, I felt like I did as a kid growing up in Gorton - totally safe to walk alone down any street in my city at any time of the day or night.

Elation

No threatening gangs of hooded youths loitering with intent on dimly-lit street corners. All I saw on that walk from Eastlands to Piccadilly that night were happy families making their way home. Mums and dads strolling along holding the hands of wide-eyed kids chattering away about the long-jump or the 100 metres final.

That was what the Manchester Games of 2002 meant to me. A great city united as one more completely than I can ever remember.

It was a feeling of elation and pride in Manchester I've never experienced before and never expect to experience again.

So do your best Melbourne. Give it your best shot and make this another Commonwealth Games to remember.

But reproduce that pride and emotion which engulfed this city in the summer of 2002? That, to my mind, is the Impossible Dream.

Absolute perfection is attained only once in a lifetime.

Can Melbourne match the Manchester Games? Have your say.

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