On a crisp October afternoon at the Etihad Stadium, the air was electric with anticipation as Manchester City prepared to face Southampton in a Premier League clash. Erling Haaland, the towering Norwegian striker whose 119 goals in 137 appearances have made him the heartbeat of City’s attack, was warming up, his presence as commanding as ever. But beneath the surface of what would become a routine 1-0 victory—sealed by Haaland’s early strike—a storm was brewing, one that would thrust the club into an unexpected controversy. A former staff member, once a vibrant part of City’s matchday fabric as the mascot “Moonbeam,” has accused the Premier League champions of orchestrating a “cover-up” after an incident involving Haaland left her reeling with suspected whiplash and concussion. What began as a playful gesture, she claims, spiraled into a saga of pain, dismissal, and a fight for accountability.
The woman, a university graduate who joined City as a temporary worker last June, had donned the cuddly alien costume of Moonbeam for the Southampton match on October 26. Paid £100 per game, she was posing for a photo when she felt two sharp blows to the back of her head. “What the hell was that that hit me?” she recalled asking a colleague, her voice trembling as shock set in. Initially, she thought a stray football had struck her, a common enough hazard on the sidelines. But the truth, relayed by a co-worker, hit harder: “It was Erling. He hit you from behind.” Haaland, all 6-foot-4 of him, had allegedly delivered what he intended as a light, playful tap—a ritual of recognition he often shared with the mascots. Yet, for her, it was anything but gentle. “I was pretty upset and I was crying and my head was thudding,” she later recounted, the memory of that moment etched with distress.
The aftermath unfolded swiftly. Offered a chance to go home, she soldiered on through her shift, only to collapse into nausea and neck pain later that night. By the next day, City’s first-team doctor assessed her, urging a hospital visit. At Salford Royal’s A&E, medics confirmed her symptoms—vomiting, head pain, a neck stiff with suspected whiplash—but a CT scan showed no lasting damage. Still, the ordeal left her shaken, and what followed only deepened her frustration. She reported the incident to Greater Manchester Police as an assault, expecting contrition or at least acknowledgment from the club. Instead, she says, City closed ranks. “I asked if anyone had spoken to Erling and he said, ‘No, they don’t want to distract him,’” she remembered, her tone laced with disbelief. “I was offended because I was the one hurt.”
City launched an internal probe, spearheaded by health and safety chief Paul Kenyon. CCTV footage was reviewed, and the conclusion was clear: Haaland hadn’t caused her injuries. “Erling Haaland always does a gentle touch on the back or head of Moonbeam as recognition,” the report stated, describing the contact as a mere “grazing.” The police, too, found no malice in the striker’s actions, opting not to pursue the complaint further. For the club, it was case closed—a minor hiccup smoothed over to protect their star, freshly signed to a lucrative contract extension through 2034. But for the woman, it was the beginning of an unraveling. Returning to her ticket office role, she was later told she’d need to reapply for her contract. After a grueling half-day interview, she received the crushing news last December: she hadn’t made the cut. “I have never had any complaints from any of the managers about my work before,” she said, her voice heavy with the sting of rejection.
Now, she’s furious, pointing the finger at what she calls an “arrogant” cover-up. “I’m sure Erling would have apologised to me if they had given him the chance,” she insisted, imagining a scenario where the striker’s towering frame bent in remorse. “But they just wanted to sweep it under the carpet.” City, for their part, stand firm. “The club fully investigated and found that none of the evidence, including video footage, backed up the claim that an injury was sustained in the manner alleged,” a spokesperson declared, emphasizing that the police investigation sheathed in the same resolute stance. As Haaland arrived at training on March 29, looking sheepish under the weight of the headlines, the episode has cast a shadow over a season where he remains City’s linchpin amid their ongoing Financial Fair Play case.
The fallout lingers, a tale of loyalty and betrayal at the Etihad. For Haaland, it’s a rare blemish on a glittering tenure—two Golden Boots, a treble, and a legacy in the making. For the woman once known as Moonbeam, it’s a bitter exit from a dream job, her cries of injustice drowned out by the machinery of a club determined to shield its golden boy. As City gear up for an FA Cup quarterfinal against Bournemouth, the incident fades from the pitch but lingers in the stands—a reminder that even in victory, not all stories end in celebration.
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