Silver

I’m just too young to remember a time before Alex Ferguson managed Manchester United - in fact, perhaps we should refer to any year prior to 1986 as BF – but I was there at Old Trafford when he marked 25 years in the job and I was in the stand that from that day on bears his name.

What I can, just about, remember is the state of the club in the late 80s: full of players with drinking problems, injury problems and not-good-enough problems. He made some vital early signings (Brian McClair, Steve Bruce), not so vital signings (Viv Anderson, Jim Leighton) and cleared out the dead wood, despite some being fan favourites (Paul McGrath, Norman Whiteside). But he also brought back Mark Hughes, a move he described as giving the fans their “hero” back.

Despite finishing second behind Liverpool in his first full season (albeit by a huge distance), a slip into the mid-table mire followed. Much has been made of the FA Cup 3rd round tie vs Nottingham Forest in December 1989 and the subsequent run that saw our first bit of silverware under the Fergie regime. But for this fan, it didn't say that much. Sure, it was nice to win something, but from watching my “Official History” video, even the nine-year-old me knew it didn't say too much: previous wins in the same competition in 1977, 83 and 85 hadn't led to further glory.

No. The real turning point was a few months later, in a League Cup tie at Arsenal, at that point in the height of their George Graham-inspired powers. League title winners in 1990, they would do it again that season and were known for their rock solid defence and ability to grind out 1-0 victories. And we drubbed them 6-2. I've always been of the belief that the team that day, which featured Irwin, Bruce, Pallister, Ince, Sharpe and McClair, all of whom would play a part in bringing the title home after 26 years, gained a lot of their subsequent confidence that day, a feeling that they could at last compete with the best. Sad to say, Man City’s recent hammering of United could have the same effect.

The rest of Ferguson’s achievements are well listed. I remember when we won the league in 1993, some joker at school put up a load of posters listing the events that had happened in the years between that and our last championship: Berlin Wall coming down, man on the moon, Nelson Mandela being freed etc. The last line read something like “remember, United, it’s not winning the league once that’s important, it’s keeping hold of it”. 12 titles in 18 years has firmly put that one to bed and nearly knocked Liverpool “off their fucking perch”.

Nearly? Well, there’s still the matter of European Cups. We have three, they have five and it’s something they still hold over us. If not for the small matter of Barcelona being the best club in the world, we may well have equalled it, and I sometimes wonder if the pursuit of further glory in this competition is what drives the man on still.

At times, I've despaired at some of his decisions. Getting into a fight he could never win over some horse spunk with some Irish businessmen did nobody any favours, not least because they owned shares in the club which they subsequently sold to the Glazer family, miring the club into debt for the first time in years. That he should then come out in support of the parasitical fucks on several occasions is more depressing still.

Despite that, the man is a football manager and in that regard, he’s the top dog. Even Jose Mourinho, a man not known for his humble nature, stated that he didn’t call Fergie “Sir” or “Mr Ferguson” – he calls him “the Boss”.