My love affair with Manchester United FC began in late ’93. United had been in Johannesburg earlier that year. However, on that summer afternoon I actually sat and watched a game. I was enamoured by a young looking number 11.
The commentator, one Martin Tyler kept waxing lyrical about the talent of the young man referring to him as Ryan Wilson and talking up his previous exploits including, but not limited to winning the FA youth Cup with United.
He spoke about his father Mark, the former rugby league star who had heritage in Sierra Leone. Wow, an African playing Premier league football. It was compelling stuff. And so, I started to casually follow them. Checking on their results and monitoring when they’ll be on TV.
These were days before SuperSport as an actual channel. Ma2000 will never know about Darren Scott and Gary Bailey, Terry Paine and Eddie Lewis as pundits and hosts. Long before Imtiaz Patel, and ntate Nolo Letele and others turned it in to the juggernaut it is today.
Man United won that league campaign. Those in the know kept talking about the star player being Eric Cantona and lauding the success of the manager, a Scotsman named Alex Ferguson.
Stories abound how this manager had come dangerously close to losing his job a few years prior. How, in an unforgiving environment, the man some how stuck it out, rebuilt the club in his image and was now reaping the rewards of his stubbornness. It was a most compelling tale, and just like that I was hooked.
From winter of ’94 I was captured by the Man United story. I paid particular attention to that young wing with Sierre Leonean heritage as well as the flamboyant French striker said to be the reason United captured the previous league campaign and of course this manager with the dogged determination.
My best mate was a Liverpool fan and so I started to delve in to the rivalry and learned of the passionate distaste of each other from both fan bases. I read about Alex Ferguson wanting to “knock them off their perch” and I got stuck in to the passionate discourse myself.
I fell in love with the high octane style of play that seemed to suggest if the opposition scores 3 then we’ll score 5. That Scotsman seemed to love an attacking brand of football and I began to love him just as much as this club he represented. The two were inextricably linked.
Through the years I watched Alexander Chapman Ferguson weave together the most magnificent tale. A couple of double winning seasons (league and FA cup), a couple of near misses in the Champions league before the moment in ’99 when the Premier Continental competition went from dream to reality. The treble remains one of the most fantastic achievements by a football team! The following year, the great manager was knighted and transitioned from Mr to Sir Alex Ferguson. In mine and many other fans minds, the man walked on water. He was “the boss”.
Four defenders, four midfielders that included two wide players and two goal scoring strikers. The football was high energy roulette. A marvel most times.
This week in the most inexplicable thing since Cantona Kung-fu kicked the poor Crystal Palace fan, Manchester United opted to end their association with Sir Alex. The man who won us a treble, knocked the Scousers off their perch, built and rebuilt successful United teams and basically got us back to where the club was meant to be throughout the 90s and 00’s. Football is well and truly dead. If the constant playing out from the back, the controlling midfielders and non striker didn’t confirm it, this well and truly has.
There’s no more room for sentiment because Ineos (the clubs new part owners) are in and focusing on revival and tracking a new course. They will find better ways to spend the £2m they were paying Sir Alex. I couldn’t and still can’t believe it. The reason the club is even worth investing in is that man. How can you end his club ambassadorial role after everything he has given us as a fan base?
The romance of football has been sucked dry by capitalism and its constant need to devour every and anything that doesn’t churn out profit. Hyper profitability or nothing is the call. So you see legends like the greatest manager ever cast aside so the books can balance and a shiny new structure can be fitted in. I’m all for new, hell, I run a digital business, but that doesn’t mean we should cast aside the foundations that made us who we are. Ineos have made it very difficult for me to take them seriously moving forward. I’m so bleak, I can’t believe it.
Thank you to Sir Alex for everything he’s done for me, and the club he loves. We will always cherish the memories even as a capital lays the game we love asunder…
