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From the Reditorial of the RN202 Summer/Fergie Special that came out in July 2013…
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So how do you try and sum all that up then? This Fergie, is the really impossible dream!
But here goes. It will be, as it has been then, emotional.
The wholly expected, seemed unexpected when it finally did arrive, and that which we should have been well prepared for, left us anything but. It still feels emotional. It was quick, it was sudden, it was right, and it was a fitting end, even more so, certainly when it comes to boring relatives in years to come about these years, that it ended the way it did, not just with overall success, but in a 5-5 emotionally draining bloodbath.
There were three eventualities left for Fergie's end, an unusual combination of age and achievements affecting where, since 2005 at least (and a lot of humble pie eating on occasion from us all, as he often reminded the press of that period: “Don't forget, you lot had me at the door three years ago. Bloody hell! You had in me in my bath-chair down on Torquay beach!”) any sacking was out of the question; leaving retirement or that sometimes over lightly throwaway comment of ‘he will die on the job’.
This perhaps was a comment not meant to shock or harm but only as his resignation sunk in did I realise how horrible it would have been to play out to this conclusion - for everyone, those attending any such game, those playing in it, his family. It could and should not have been like that, so he made sure it wouldn't. He would have known when, so he strode to it face on; the question of ‘when?’ was beginning to follow him around in every significant press conference he'd given in the last two or three years, and despite jovial replies, there was a point to this; a man who could pretty much do what he wanted, could not fight time. Even he knew it. “The sand is drifting through now”. Where once Patrice Evra just two years ago talked of Fergie saying: “No chance will I retire. I have worked all my life and I will work until I die. This is my victory. I cannot walk away from this.” But he had to. Philip Roth famously said ‘old age isn't a battle, it's a massacre’. and those of us who have seen the curse of age know it does catch your pace eventually. Fergie did bloody great fighting it off for as long as he did, more so than pretty much any sporting great in this era, that he was allowed to go out on a high at 71 with so much - hopefully - still to do and see is a great feat in itself.
So I say what I have said everytime since the news; it was the right time, completely, because there'd be no perfect treble hoisting other right time to go, only these moments, not infinite, that would run out, or it would then become the wrong time, when life just came along and played its tricks. And so reclaiming a title was his last target (“I really need to go out a winner”) and something we sometimes again too glibly call ‘our trophy’ after what happened just last May seems as right as right can be. And not just the right time for him. This is the important bit, for the club it's the right time too, more than just being his time, it is ours; leaving a title winning side, at the right(ish) average age, with potential (with additions of course), so it is far removed, we hope, from post-Busby shenanigans. We know this is new territory, and it is scary, but we must embrace it. Hell it showed this was a new era when Fergie's dancing to the Courteneers at that mental title parade!
Of course if we listed all his strengths, and the glory, we'd be here longer than city waited for a trophy, but suffice to say he rebuilt the stature and then glory and great sides of this great club, not just in the image of Busby and his vision for football and conduct (though ABUs would feed you bollocks about that) but adding his own, mixing it all up to add late winners and miracles to the United mix that makes this club of ours so unique and wonderful at its core. I have said before we are blessed to have had both these men, and maybe now we have time to reflect we will appreciate if not just what he achieved, than what Fergie was, and stood for. The last dinosaur of his earth, who managed when it was changing all around him to adapt and survive. Punch extinction on its general managerial nose.
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Of course there were frailties; that is I am afraid part of our human condition, to err. I always felt wary after the early years to go for him as some did, especially with off field issues, for however disappointed I was with choices, I know I have made many mistakes so lectures seemed hypocritical even if we'd all wished from Coolmore, horse jizz and Glazers he'd come out more on our side, or acted the way we thought he may have once.
We have had our run ins and our make ups even here. We had greater access in the early days when United wasn't the monolith it was now. When we started in the late 80s on pre-seasons where crowds were in their low thousands and there were no mobs outside hotels, you could walk in and be granted an interview. When those early days seemed to shift from scary waters to danger signals of relegation battles, these pages represented the views of concerned Reds who were beginning to doubt he could do it. If we'd known of course... but he told us that he was fundamentally opposed to fanzines if they criticised any of ‘his players’ as any sort of public slight, against any of them, automatically made you part of the problem, and not a support.
This came to a head with RN founder (and lifelong Red) Teresa McDonald on a pre-season trip to Perth and after a friendly chat with Brian McClair agreed to a post match interview. Within earshot, Fergie came and grabbed Teresa, in front of a rather embarrassed Sir Matt it has to be said and ranted that we were all a disgrace to United and we could stuff this fanzine up our arses. (I never tried). He'd read an offending piece and reacted; she didn't have time to say she wasn't the actual author and as she then gave as good as she got the poor home staff didn't know what the heck was going on. It lasted seconds and seemed like hours. It seems mad now.
And the next time they met, just a short while later? He hugged her and said ‘how are you doing?’, as if none of it had ever happened. In his mind it probably hadn't, to the extent that those recipients will remember it like an oven burn, scarring, and whilst we can argue over both fanzine and Fergie being in the wrong, I'd rather point to the bigger point that both forgot it, moved on, forgive and forget and all that and when Teresa fell seriously ill a few years ago, he immediately sent an inspiring and moving note of motivation with a package of items. The positive affect in that hospital when she read it I will never forget. He had that affect. It should always be good outweighing any bad. It was with him. He best summed up this complicated - and we all are such - nature up recently: “But I’ve never held grudges. In all the times I’ve banned you (the press) I’ve never borne a grudge. I don’t think it’s my style. I react, then forget about it some time later.”
Perhaps his greatest gift was he made people forget he was human. If it is of our nature then to make mistakes, his genius was they were so few and far between so when they did occur, people were surprised or even shocked because they saw him on another level. They treated him like a God and reacted surprised when he showed his human side. This 71 year old man was viewed not as that or even like his peers but surpassing; he had elevated himself to such a level people couldn’t see his actual self. He performed miracles but he was not a miracle. He just had a knack. It worked. We can talk how and why, it just did. He got United and we got him and they sort of became entwined, even if at times after all this glory, we seemed to moan more than we should (or even used to during the shite). He is not United but he was at the same time. Thus, we felt so disappointed when he did make errors of judgement. Because we no longer saw him as one of us, even though he just was.
As he performed that Mexican wave in the Legends game against Madrid, this man we had long depended upon, and looked up to, looked what he was, an old man - who has done remarkable things. But even with - still! - a relentless, possibly unique at his age, drive, there was no way he would be able to turn back time anymore, even if his sides often did.
But this is not an obituary, and that is important because it shows it was the right time, and as such it doesn't mean you can't constructively deconstruct some of the darker moments, or even try and see how they were used for any team recovery. You see whilst there were achilles heels over a poorer record in Europe, and consistently playing people out of position, at times, at least when it came to tinkering, it began to work; for whilst us becoming accustomed to it is neither here nor there (though of course that pre-match raised eye brow at some choices would never cease), the players bought into not playing, so that whilst of course they all hoped they did, not many ever rocked the boat when they didn't.
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As we see at other clubs - or don't see as they kick off about it - this was another part of his genius; as well as a protection of his players in public even though we can only guess at the bollockings they were getting in private. “I've said time and again that my job is to keep us out of the press. That's my biggest job. That's why I give you lot nothing.” And of course the purple faced defence of his players (as an extension, his club) from telling Geoff Shrevees to fuck off after he'd tried to dig for answers after a meagre FA Cup tie against Boro, to dig at Ronaldo’s falling down, or those violent purple attacks. The players recognised this as Michael Carrick put it so well: “I'm proud of the boys and the character we've shown this season but it all comes from the manager. You don't just play for this club, you live for this club once you're here.”
And because he did give the press nothing, be it the odd lie or side step gossip, and they didn't forgive such Perth like bollockings as we did, they harboured, maybe without even knowing it, grievances that would come to the fore during any bad period; pathetic (both looking in design and execution) empire crumbling nonsense of our crest after just a few ropey results, something we must fight back against when it happens under Moyes. My generation coming from an era where we maybe wouldn't win for 10 or so games, to this one now, genius again, where so rare is it that two bad results on the bounce would have the press wanting to light the smoke in the chimneys for ill thought out ‘Fergie must go’ campaigns. He played them like a violin. One hand accusing them of being “youse are all fucking idiots”for criticising Veron, on the other deflecting scrutiny of a player he would not long after concede defeat about by selling, sort of validating their questions! Even in adversity, always ahead. Devious at times, of course.
Pardon this particular analogy but it does seem to fit, so to speak. Once we went on a path which now seems so remarkable it's almost blase to recall; a title we never thought possible, and if it happened we'd happily just take the one, then to realise he meant business when he said we'd have lift off and go on and on, then Doubles, then a bloody (bloody hell) Treble, to the odd shakey moment but nothing major and certainly never any earthquakes so that this all seemed so settled, so nice and wonderfully predictable by the end, that I saw Fergie as an old treasured piece, like a trainer. There were uncomfortable early days settling in, then a few doubts but for that final end period you are in perfect harmony until you can go no further together. You want them to last forever but you know it can't, only hoping the next one will be half as good.
You get me?!
In a sport that is unrecognisable for many of us from our start, he was a reassuring constant, a link between past to worrying present. That has now gone, it closes that era, it'll never be the same. That's exciting and scary, and as an aside the greedy fuckers up top could have even more of an open session than maybe when Fergie might give them a withered look as to not go too far (if official noodle and Mexican banking partners weren't far enough!). He was us, even though it didn't feel like it at times. He was more us than we can ever hope any of the others in this greedy game to ever be. That's why Moyes feels ok, (and ok is ok when you consider the magnitude of change), because he's more past and present than future, with Chelsea and city a good look in the scary face of what the future of modern fucked up football is becoming.
You spend your 20s and early 30s thinking you're invincible, then the remainder of that decade thinking you might not. By your 40s you know you're not so that all that remains is fighting off the inevitable (and I’m an optimist!), so for Fergie at his age to be not just seeing off the tide (as well as all comers) but dashing here and there whilst controlling not just the biggest club in the world but the one most rapidly expanding is pretty much incredible. Lost in a career that was defined by so many incredible facets you lose track. And only now he's gone will we realise in even greater magnitude that which we already realised, or should have; just how blessed we were.
Let's be honest, though not United, football in general CAN be tiring, dull, settling into nothingness, bland to watch and be fed. United under him for 99% of the time was nothing like that. Even last season when we felt less excitement, it still had so much goonage and last minute thrillers (West Ham. Soton, Newcastle and on and on).
I have sold outside probably 75% of all Fergie's games in charge. I have seen all the emotions, missed some of the goals, stayed in for the big ones (Nou Camp) but seen our emotions evolve. Bouncing with big wins, changing with the small ones, as if they are a conveyer belt and also seen greed enter our mindset. Did he change that much, or was it us? I hope we realise that we can't win them all, however much we want to, and that moaning our way through this next stage of evolution will do us no good whatsoever.
So what memories to take, to cherish the most? An ability to always keep moving for starters. “I never count titles. The next one is always the best.” Of checking for sauce under the pastas, of bloody hells. Of winning over half of all the trophies this club has ever won. Of always being ahead. When asked after a defeat to Chelsea in ‘08 how he was feeling, “top of the league, semi-finals of the European Cup. Disaster”. We smiled some more.
In his very last press conference. “It's difficult to know what to do for the best, but I certainly have no plans to start hanging round City's training ground. I gave up council housing a long time ago.” Of those child like jigs, and fist pumps, of pointing at watches, of creating exasperation and even the odd moan from the stands (I don't mean the tosspots not happy unless it's 5-0 at half-time) as we then score and you're trying to grab those words back down your throat. Of chewing gum as we chewed nails and begged just give us one final big comeback and we'd never pray for another (yeah, right!). Of changing the attitude of a club in decline (“My job was to bring in players who were hungry, who would react to adversity.”). Of not being afraid of progress (embracing so much use of science at United - “I’m a dinosaur, but what I am is a winner”), and his players embracing his concepts as he would them.
Of always wanting the win, when everyone else would settle for the draw, Denis Law saying “He was conscious of playing attractive football to give value to people who pay good money.” Of squeaky bum time. “No question about that”, of revelling in adversity, buying into it and selling it to his players so they didn’t shirk it.
And, of course, “My greatest challenge was knocking Liverpool right off their fucking perch. And you can print that.”, but doing it so well that Liverpool have long ceased, bar the ongoing off field rivalry, of being anything approaching relevant. Noisy neighbours, and not selling Madrid a virus (shame he then sold them Ronnie instead…), the hairdryer, and the vendettas. Of Lee Martin and Mark Robins, the opposite of big names, setting the ball rolling. Of recovering from 1992. Of Eric. Embracing him and his collars as well as his temperament and utilising it with the siege mentality that would leave us in such good stead. Of spotting Bayern’s knack and getting so many ex-players back involved at the club... Or it's just too bloody hard to try and break it all down.
As he himself said: “It's hard to actually go through 26 and a half years, it's impossible.” He achieved the impossible (that song again). Peter Schmeichel said: “There are thousands of better coaches. But management? The handling of men? There's nobody better.” Harry Gregg talked of his achievements: “Alex Ferguson rescued an institution not just a football club.
He talked in his final week of his life ahead. “I am going to fill it with nonsense and madness!” He gave us both, in unimaginably great ways. We have said before, he changed our lives. Those of us who saw dark days, now bathed in success shared with people who have known nothing but success and light. He changed United, but still managed to remain much the same man - the good and the occasional bad - who arrived over half a century ago in a world much changed, and often gone mad.
Think of his final speech on the pitch, one that down played any self interest, inspiring a long injured player, telling the players of the responsibility of our shirt, and how we must all send our encouragement to David Moyes. It was unscripted majesty. This era was exactly that. You couldn't have made this up. Nobody would have believed you. For that, and everything else, thank you Alex Ferguson and as important as anything, I hope he gets to enjoy this well deserved retirement. Bobby Charlton talked earlier in the season of him never leaving: “I think he’ll be there for the rest of time, to be honest". But he will be. He wasn't Manchester United but he became part of it, part of its very fabric. Life sometimes doesn't turn out quite the way you want it to.. but United, somewhat incredibly, did turn out exactly the way we'd not just like it to, but dreamt it to be - proper pie in the sky, ‘please let this happen’ Hollywood stuff.. and then some.
He gave us anxiety, then trophies, then Eric, then the league, then great football, then the Holy Grail, and he didn't let up, so neither did we. Every one of us loved him, to varying degrees, myself pretty much unconditional by the end (bar Gimps support), but without doubt every one of us had a better life - not just football but the contentedness that footballing success can bring to your wider worlds - because of him. He didn't try. He did. The boxer Joe Louis at the end of his time said: “I did the best I could with what I had.” Fergie did even better than he should with what he had, and made greats and truly great times from what he had.
Fergie, bloody hell. Thank you Sir Alex. For everything.
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So how do you try and sum all that up then? This Fergie, is the really impossible dream!
But here goes. It will be, as it has been then, emotional.
The wholly expected, seemed unexpected when it finally did arrive, and that which we should have been well prepared for, left us anything but. It still feels emotional. It was quick, it was sudden, it was right, and it was a fitting end, even more so, certainly when it comes to boring relatives in years to come about these years, that it ended the way it did, not just with overall success, but in a 5-5 emotionally draining bloodbath.
There were three eventualities left for Fergie's end, an unusual combination of age and achievements affecting where, since 2005 at least (and a lot of humble pie eating on occasion from us all, as he often reminded the press of that period: “Don't forget, you lot had me at the door three years ago. Bloody hell! You had in me in my bath-chair down on Torquay beach!”) any sacking was out of the question; leaving retirement or that sometimes over lightly throwaway comment of ‘he will die on the job’.
This perhaps was a comment not meant to shock or harm but only as his resignation sunk in did I realise how horrible it would have been to play out to this conclusion - for everyone, those attending any such game, those playing in it, his family. It could and should not have been like that, so he made sure it wouldn't. He would have known when, so he strode to it face on; the question of ‘when?’ was beginning to follow him around in every significant press conference he'd given in the last two or three years, and despite jovial replies, there was a point to this; a man who could pretty much do what he wanted, could not fight time. Even he knew it. “The sand is drifting through now”. Where once Patrice Evra just two years ago talked of Fergie saying: “No chance will I retire. I have worked all my life and I will work until I die. This is my victory. I cannot walk away from this.” But he had to. Philip Roth famously said ‘old age isn't a battle, it's a massacre’. and those of us who have seen the curse of age know it does catch your pace eventually. Fergie did bloody great fighting it off for as long as he did, more so than pretty much any sporting great in this era, that he was allowed to go out on a high at 71 with so much - hopefully - still to do and see is a great feat in itself.
So I say what I have said everytime since the news; it was the right time, completely, because there'd be no perfect treble hoisting other right time to go, only these moments, not infinite, that would run out, or it would then become the wrong time, when life just came along and played its tricks. And so reclaiming a title was his last target (“I really need to go out a winner”) and something we sometimes again too glibly call ‘our trophy’ after what happened just last May seems as right as right can be. And not just the right time for him. This is the important bit, for the club it's the right time too, more than just being his time, it is ours; leaving a title winning side, at the right(ish) average age, with potential (with additions of course), so it is far removed, we hope, from post-Busby shenanigans. We know this is new territory, and it is scary, but we must embrace it. Hell it showed this was a new era when Fergie's dancing to the Courteneers at that mental title parade!
Of course if we listed all his strengths, and the glory, we'd be here longer than city waited for a trophy, but suffice to say he rebuilt the stature and then glory and great sides of this great club, not just in the image of Busby and his vision for football and conduct (though ABUs would feed you bollocks about that) but adding his own, mixing it all up to add late winners and miracles to the United mix that makes this club of ours so unique and wonderful at its core. I have said before we are blessed to have had both these men, and maybe now we have time to reflect we will appreciate if not just what he achieved, than what Fergie was, and stood for. The last dinosaur of his earth, who managed when it was changing all around him to adapt and survive. Punch extinction on its general managerial nose.
A print or digital subscription http://www.rednews.co.uk/subscription.php
The Red News app on itunes - at http://bit.ly/RedNewsApp
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Of course there were frailties; that is I am afraid part of our human condition, to err. I always felt wary after the early years to go for him as some did, especially with off field issues, for however disappointed I was with choices, I know I have made many mistakes so lectures seemed hypocritical even if we'd all wished from Coolmore, horse jizz and Glazers he'd come out more on our side, or acted the way we thought he may have once.
We have had our run ins and our make ups even here. We had greater access in the early days when United wasn't the monolith it was now. When we started in the late 80s on pre-seasons where crowds were in their low thousands and there were no mobs outside hotels, you could walk in and be granted an interview. When those early days seemed to shift from scary waters to danger signals of relegation battles, these pages represented the views of concerned Reds who were beginning to doubt he could do it. If we'd known of course... but he told us that he was fundamentally opposed to fanzines if they criticised any of ‘his players’ as any sort of public slight, against any of them, automatically made you part of the problem, and not a support.
This came to a head with RN founder (and lifelong Red) Teresa McDonald on a pre-season trip to Perth and after a friendly chat with Brian McClair agreed to a post match interview. Within earshot, Fergie came and grabbed Teresa, in front of a rather embarrassed Sir Matt it has to be said and ranted that we were all a disgrace to United and we could stuff this fanzine up our arses. (I never tried). He'd read an offending piece and reacted; she didn't have time to say she wasn't the actual author and as she then gave as good as she got the poor home staff didn't know what the heck was going on. It lasted seconds and seemed like hours. It seems mad now.
And the next time they met, just a short while later? He hugged her and said ‘how are you doing?’, as if none of it had ever happened. In his mind it probably hadn't, to the extent that those recipients will remember it like an oven burn, scarring, and whilst we can argue over both fanzine and Fergie being in the wrong, I'd rather point to the bigger point that both forgot it, moved on, forgive and forget and all that and when Teresa fell seriously ill a few years ago, he immediately sent an inspiring and moving note of motivation with a package of items. The positive affect in that hospital when she read it I will never forget. He had that affect. It should always be good outweighing any bad. It was with him. He best summed up this complicated - and we all are such - nature up recently: “But I’ve never held grudges. In all the times I’ve banned you (the press) I’ve never borne a grudge. I don’t think it’s my style. I react, then forget about it some time later.”
Perhaps his greatest gift was he made people forget he was human. If it is of our nature then to make mistakes, his genius was they were so few and far between so when they did occur, people were surprised or even shocked because they saw him on another level. They treated him like a God and reacted surprised when he showed his human side. This 71 year old man was viewed not as that or even like his peers but surpassing; he had elevated himself to such a level people couldn’t see his actual self. He performed miracles but he was not a miracle. He just had a knack. It worked. We can talk how and why, it just did. He got United and we got him and they sort of became entwined, even if at times after all this glory, we seemed to moan more than we should (or even used to during the shite). He is not United but he was at the same time. Thus, we felt so disappointed when he did make errors of judgement. Because we no longer saw him as one of us, even though he just was.
As he performed that Mexican wave in the Legends game against Madrid, this man we had long depended upon, and looked up to, looked what he was, an old man - who has done remarkable things. But even with - still! - a relentless, possibly unique at his age, drive, there was no way he would be able to turn back time anymore, even if his sides often did.
But this is not an obituary, and that is important because it shows it was the right time, and as such it doesn't mean you can't constructively deconstruct some of the darker moments, or even try and see how they were used for any team recovery. You see whilst there were achilles heels over a poorer record in Europe, and consistently playing people out of position, at times, at least when it came to tinkering, it began to work; for whilst us becoming accustomed to it is neither here nor there (though of course that pre-match raised eye brow at some choices would never cease), the players bought into not playing, so that whilst of course they all hoped they did, not many ever rocked the boat when they didn't.
A print or digital subscription http://www.rednews.co.uk/subscription.php
The Red News app on itunes - at http://bit.ly/RedNewsApp
The Red News Kindle store http://www.amazon.co.uk/Barney/e/B009N4YJ0Q/
As we see at other clubs - or don't see as they kick off about it - this was another part of his genius; as well as a protection of his players in public even though we can only guess at the bollockings they were getting in private. “I've said time and again that my job is to keep us out of the press. That's my biggest job. That's why I give you lot nothing.” And of course the purple faced defence of his players (as an extension, his club) from telling Geoff Shrevees to fuck off after he'd tried to dig for answers after a meagre FA Cup tie against Boro, to dig at Ronaldo’s falling down, or those violent purple attacks. The players recognised this as Michael Carrick put it so well: “I'm proud of the boys and the character we've shown this season but it all comes from the manager. You don't just play for this club, you live for this club once you're here.”
And because he did give the press nothing, be it the odd lie or side step gossip, and they didn't forgive such Perth like bollockings as we did, they harboured, maybe without even knowing it, grievances that would come to the fore during any bad period; pathetic (both looking in design and execution) empire crumbling nonsense of our crest after just a few ropey results, something we must fight back against when it happens under Moyes. My generation coming from an era where we maybe wouldn't win for 10 or so games, to this one now, genius again, where so rare is it that two bad results on the bounce would have the press wanting to light the smoke in the chimneys for ill thought out ‘Fergie must go’ campaigns. He played them like a violin. One hand accusing them of being “youse are all fucking idiots”for criticising Veron, on the other deflecting scrutiny of a player he would not long after concede defeat about by selling, sort of validating their questions! Even in adversity, always ahead. Devious at times, of course.
Pardon this particular analogy but it does seem to fit, so to speak. Once we went on a path which now seems so remarkable it's almost blase to recall; a title we never thought possible, and if it happened we'd happily just take the one, then to realise he meant business when he said we'd have lift off and go on and on, then Doubles, then a bloody (bloody hell) Treble, to the odd shakey moment but nothing major and certainly never any earthquakes so that this all seemed so settled, so nice and wonderfully predictable by the end, that I saw Fergie as an old treasured piece, like a trainer. There were uncomfortable early days settling in, then a few doubts but for that final end period you are in perfect harmony until you can go no further together. You want them to last forever but you know it can't, only hoping the next one will be half as good.
You get me?!
In a sport that is unrecognisable for many of us from our start, he was a reassuring constant, a link between past to worrying present. That has now gone, it closes that era, it'll never be the same. That's exciting and scary, and as an aside the greedy fuckers up top could have even more of an open session than maybe when Fergie might give them a withered look as to not go too far (if official noodle and Mexican banking partners weren't far enough!). He was us, even though it didn't feel like it at times. He was more us than we can ever hope any of the others in this greedy game to ever be. That's why Moyes feels ok, (and ok is ok when you consider the magnitude of change), because he's more past and present than future, with Chelsea and city a good look in the scary face of what the future of modern fucked up football is becoming.
You spend your 20s and early 30s thinking you're invincible, then the remainder of that decade thinking you might not. By your 40s you know you're not so that all that remains is fighting off the inevitable (and I’m an optimist!), so for Fergie at his age to be not just seeing off the tide (as well as all comers) but dashing here and there whilst controlling not just the biggest club in the world but the one most rapidly expanding is pretty much incredible. Lost in a career that was defined by so many incredible facets you lose track. And only now he's gone will we realise in even greater magnitude that which we already realised, or should have; just how blessed we were.
Let's be honest, though not United, football in general CAN be tiring, dull, settling into nothingness, bland to watch and be fed. United under him for 99% of the time was nothing like that. Even last season when we felt less excitement, it still had so much goonage and last minute thrillers (West Ham. Soton, Newcastle and on and on).
I have sold outside probably 75% of all Fergie's games in charge. I have seen all the emotions, missed some of the goals, stayed in for the big ones (Nou Camp) but seen our emotions evolve. Bouncing with big wins, changing with the small ones, as if they are a conveyer belt and also seen greed enter our mindset. Did he change that much, or was it us? I hope we realise that we can't win them all, however much we want to, and that moaning our way through this next stage of evolution will do us no good whatsoever.
So what memories to take, to cherish the most? An ability to always keep moving for starters. “I never count titles. The next one is always the best.” Of checking for sauce under the pastas, of bloody hells. Of winning over half of all the trophies this club has ever won. Of always being ahead. When asked after a defeat to Chelsea in ‘08 how he was feeling, “top of the league, semi-finals of the European Cup. Disaster”. We smiled some more.
In his very last press conference. “It's difficult to know what to do for the best, but I certainly have no plans to start hanging round City's training ground. I gave up council housing a long time ago.” Of those child like jigs, and fist pumps, of pointing at watches, of creating exasperation and even the odd moan from the stands (I don't mean the tosspots not happy unless it's 5-0 at half-time) as we then score and you're trying to grab those words back down your throat. Of chewing gum as we chewed nails and begged just give us one final big comeback and we'd never pray for another (yeah, right!). Of changing the attitude of a club in decline (“My job was to bring in players who were hungry, who would react to adversity.”). Of not being afraid of progress (embracing so much use of science at United - “I’m a dinosaur, but what I am is a winner”), and his players embracing his concepts as he would them.
Of always wanting the win, when everyone else would settle for the draw, Denis Law saying “He was conscious of playing attractive football to give value to people who pay good money.” Of squeaky bum time. “No question about that”, of revelling in adversity, buying into it and selling it to his players so they didn’t shirk it.
And, of course, “My greatest challenge was knocking Liverpool right off their fucking perch. And you can print that.”, but doing it so well that Liverpool have long ceased, bar the ongoing off field rivalry, of being anything approaching relevant. Noisy neighbours, and not selling Madrid a virus (shame he then sold them Ronnie instead…), the hairdryer, and the vendettas. Of Lee Martin and Mark Robins, the opposite of big names, setting the ball rolling. Of recovering from 1992. Of Eric. Embracing him and his collars as well as his temperament and utilising it with the siege mentality that would leave us in such good stead. Of spotting Bayern’s knack and getting so many ex-players back involved at the club... Or it's just too bloody hard to try and break it all down.
As he himself said: “It's hard to actually go through 26 and a half years, it's impossible.” He achieved the impossible (that song again). Peter Schmeichel said: “There are thousands of better coaches. But management? The handling of men? There's nobody better.” Harry Gregg talked of his achievements: “Alex Ferguson rescued an institution not just a football club.
He talked in his final week of his life ahead. “I am going to fill it with nonsense and madness!” He gave us both, in unimaginably great ways. We have said before, he changed our lives. Those of us who saw dark days, now bathed in success shared with people who have known nothing but success and light. He changed United, but still managed to remain much the same man - the good and the occasional bad - who arrived over half a century ago in a world much changed, and often gone mad.
Think of his final speech on the pitch, one that down played any self interest, inspiring a long injured player, telling the players of the responsibility of our shirt, and how we must all send our encouragement to David Moyes. It was unscripted majesty. This era was exactly that. You couldn't have made this up. Nobody would have believed you. For that, and everything else, thank you Alex Ferguson and as important as anything, I hope he gets to enjoy this well deserved retirement. Bobby Charlton talked earlier in the season of him never leaving: “I think he’ll be there for the rest of time, to be honest". But he will be. He wasn't Manchester United but he became part of it, part of its very fabric. Life sometimes doesn't turn out quite the way you want it to.. but United, somewhat incredibly, did turn out exactly the way we'd not just like it to, but dreamt it to be - proper pie in the sky, ‘please let this happen’ Hollywood stuff.. and then some.
He gave us anxiety, then trophies, then Eric, then the league, then great football, then the Holy Grail, and he didn't let up, so neither did we. Every one of us loved him, to varying degrees, myself pretty much unconditional by the end (bar Gimps support), but without doubt every one of us had a better life - not just football but the contentedness that footballing success can bring to your wider worlds - because of him. He didn't try. He did. The boxer Joe Louis at the end of his time said: “I did the best I could with what I had.” Fergie did even better than he should with what he had, and made greats and truly great times from what he had.
Fergie, bloody hell. Thank you Sir Alex. For everything.
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