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I was sitting in my friend’s car earlier today. We were discussing what the players were referred to by their teammates. He’s a Liverpool fan. We had gone through all the Liverpool players. I started going through the United players. «…Giggsy…Chris…Anders…Chicha..Well, Sir Alex usually called him Chico..». Usually called him. He won’t anymore. Because it’s not his job. Sir Alex Ferguson is no longer manager of Manchester United.

We have all grown up in different circumstances. Some with a huge family with uncles, aunts, grandparents and the solid unit you call your mother and father. Some of us grew up in homes with just a mother or father. Maybe an older sibling. Maybe not. They were people on whom you could always rely. People who would never really go away. Through good times and bad times you’d stand together. United. Many of us grew up with Sir Alex Ferguson. Many of us have never known anything else. Many of us do not wish to know anything else. It would be to replace the reliable unity you formed. It was never a unity you chose to form. It was just the way it became. Sir Alex Ferguson was Manchester United.

The past couple of days have been a rollercoaster. For us all. I have danced through my entire emotional register. I have been heartbroken, I have been angry, I have been hopeful and I have been fearful. I was born in 1992. I have never known anything different than what stands ahead of me. My unity with Manchester United was chosen through a radical Frenchman and a baby faced Norwegian who never looked a day older than 14. Behind them stood this authoriative, proud Scot who didn’t need to gesticulate or make a mockery of himself to get his point across. He would, from time to time, lose his cool. But that was his passion, his heart, his relentlessness. He was a winner and he demanded that they transpired him whenever they stepped on the pitch.

I don’t know about you, but I really don’t think about all the trophies he won when I think about the legacy Sir Alex Ferguson leaves at Old Trafford. Sure, he took the club from a fallen giant to the juggernaut of modern football. He made it the biggest and most popular club in the world. But what he did was provide a sense on consistency. You could always rely on Sir Alex Ferguson. You always knew his mentality. His work rate. As the son of a plater’s helper in the shipbuilding industry in Govan his working man’s principles were something we all grew to cherrish. Nothing was done without hard work. Look at the players he created. David Beckham, Paul Scholes, Cristiano Ronaldo. Yes, their talent was obvious, but they were a product of hard work. Sir Alex Ferguson’s hard work alongside them. And in the end, we were the ones who benefited. Had I received had a penny for every time I have been told that Manchester United was the only thing that made a person smile, I would now be a millionaire.

And so came the day. The day that was never supposed to come. It happened so quickly. Too quickly. We never got a chance to react. He was just… gone. Sure, the rumours were there. They were there every summer. Every time the league was won, every time the season ended,  every time something monumental happened at the club. This was the time for Sir Alex Ferguson to retire. And we laughed. Because we all knew it was untrue. He would never leave us. But, he did. He had won us the league. Number thirteen for him, number twenty for the club. He had knocked Liverpool off their perch. He had regained control of Europe. He had ruled the world. But more importantly, he had conquered all of our hearts. 26 years. 9692 days. And so he’ll ride off into the sunset. Having appointed his favorite deputy to lead the march on. But it will never be the same. We will all support David Moyes. Because he’s one of us now. We who grew with Sir Alex Ferguson, however, will forever have a section of out heart reserved to the greatest of them all. The hairdryer, the red nose, the chewing gum, the glasses, the rants, the smiles, the glory, the triumphs, the sadness, the grief and the anger. But more than ever, the unity. And the years we spent finding sense and normality in comfortably knowing that Sir Alex Ferguson would always be able to make us feel good about ourselves again.

When Alexander saw the breadth of his domain, he wept, for there were no more worlds to conquer

Thank you for the memories, Sir Alex Ferguson.

Rooney has been replaced. He looks on grim-faced as the young pretender relishes the opportunity and rapidly graduates from little known understudy to the main event whilst the team’s former talisman looks on. Rooney faces the reality that his best days are past. No longer do his team mates and supporters entrust him with their hopes and dreams. As much as they revere the part he has played in the club’s history; it is clear to all that the future belongs to others.

Fortunately for the man who goes by a teenager’s nickname, the Rooney in question is Jack rather than ’Wazza’. This scene from Oliver Stone’s Any Given Sunday plays like a disconcerting premonition of things to come for United’s number ten.

Like Jack, having got used to being the main man, Wayne has found his billing reduced. Not only has Robin van Persie usurped him as the team’s star attraction, but both Shinji Kagawa and Danny Welbeck have in the eyes of many fans emerged as the men most likely. Like in all his films, Stone’s message lacks subtlety but rings true regardless. Everyone can be replaced. Today’s star can become Yesterday’s man before he even knows it.

In Wayne’s case, you can inevitably trace the beginning of his fall from grace to that distasteful episode where in league with his agent he either a) extorted the club or b) took on the Glazers, depending on your view of the man. Regardless of the motivation, his appeal for the acquisition of world class talent has both enhanced the team and diluted his influence. Proven high quality arrived in the form of Robin van Persie, along with potential greatness in De Gea, Jones and Kagawa. The last title-winning side – so reliant upon its talisman – was remoulded, no longer centred upon Rooney. He is not alone in finding himself a functional sentry where once he was a centurion. Both Nani, and even Valencia , have found themselves at odds with the manager’s tactical vision.

To describe Rooney as having a poor season would be ridiculous. He provided a staggering number of assists, delivered a reasonable return in front of goal and earned plaudits for his willingness to adapt to deeper roles. This last element is where the questions lie. Arguments rage over Rooney’s potential to become a central midfielder but the fact these debates continue as he finishes his eighth season at the club is proof of the state of flux in which he finds himself. In the wake of Ronaldo’s sale, expectations rose that Rooney would fulfil his promise to emerge as a player equal to the greatest in world football. For a time he threatened to do so; memorably eviscerating a Milan side who had no answer to his combination of explosive power and intelligent movement.  This was not to be sustained, as inconsistency in performance (if not output) convinced his manager to look elsewhere. The call for more goals to fight back against City brought a new face rather than a renewal of faith in the existing star. To paraphrase OFSTED, Rooney has been ‘good, with outstanding features.’

Should Rooney have become the player we hoped? Perhaps we asked for too much. The teen prodigy has edged close to becoming the record goalscorer for one of the world’s greatest clubs. Precious few precocious sportsmen have ever gone on to fulfil the lofty expectations lavished upon them – I give you Robinho for example. Yet like Robinho, the suspicions remain that lifestyle choices away from the field have undermined his achievements on it. None too subtle regular references to his ‘conditioning’ suggest his manager agrees. Even those Reds who defended his actions in the contract saga could not defend his return from the summer clearly overweight. We hoped the arrival of RvP and Kagawa would fuel his appetite to prove his worth, but sadly it seemed only to have fuelled his appetite. On the field Rooney has cut an unusually isolated figure at times this season; appearances punctuated by unforced errors and the now familiar throwing up of the arms when things don’t go his way. Life on the football field frequently looks a chore rather than the pleasure it once was.

Apologists might point to his manager as the reason for a failure to press on. The tombola has forced Rooney to play markedly different roles from week to week. It is an oft heard lament that Rooney’s selfless flexibility has been exploited at the cost of excelling in one particular role. ‘He can play anywhere’ is meant as a compliment, yet the great players don’t. For them it is an endorsement of capability as oppose to a statement of intention. Robson and Keane were both praised as such yet positional changes for those two only came in the darkest of injury crises. The reality for Rooney is that despite being given opportunities to establish himself as both a striker and a creator, he has not convinced his manager of his ability to excel in either role. In the two biggest matches of the season, he was used either as a grafter or not at all. As much as supporters tried to underplay the significance of both selections, the inescapable fact was that Wayne Rooney is no longer considered essential to success. The era of ‘the big man’ is over.

The perverse reality is that in the month that he has added yet another title to his burgeoning collection, Rooney is perceived to be mulling over his next move. Stay, sign a new deal and fight for his desired place? All power to him if he does, but Ferguson’s fluttering of eyelashes at Dortmund’s lethal Pole don’t suggest a man preparing to restore Rooney to frontline service. Nor does the pointed praise of Kagawa and promises of a big future ahead suggest Rooney’s future role will replicate that of his shirt number. An alternative then is stay, sign a new deal and continue to serve in a variety of roles. Those who claim that Rooney could convert to a champions league quality central midfielder after ten draining years have admirable faith I sadly lack. His expensive use of the ball and frequent heavy touch don’t meet the criteria for the mobile, technical number 8 Ferguson craves.

The real alternative could be out of Rooney’s hands, yet ruefully I feel it best for the player and most probably the club. His contribution to our club derserves respect; at times he has carried us. Yet despite the occasional moments of brilliance; the consistent excellence that characterises the true greats has proved elusive once again this season. If a suitor is prepared to cross the Glazers palms with sufficient silver; a new club, with a new manager, could be precisely the fresh challenge needed to make the next five years of Rooney’s career the peak rather than the epilogue.

This was supposed to be it; the last jump into the home straight where United could apply the definitive sprint finish. Revenge for the 1-6, revenge for the heartbreak of May, an opportunity to right wrongs and send a message to our Premier League challengers. April 8 was meant to be the decisive battle in a hard-fought, well-won war for the title.

However, with just eight games left to play, United are out in front, if not out of sight, 15 points ahead of City and on a seven match winning streak. It’s all but mathematically certain that the Premier League trophy is heading back to Old Trafford, and yet tonight’s fixture has suffered for it. The Manchester derby has become a dead rubber, and it’s all because of Real Madrid.

With nothing else to play for, all of the urgency, appetite and verve that was so evident in the first six or so months of United’s season looks to have drained from their title challenge. Cautious professionalism has taken the place of ferocious enthusiasm as the team prepare to slip into the grinding half-sleep of a mechanically reclaimed run-in. With Robin van Persie’s goals drying up, Rooney’s intermittent season further interrupted by injury and blind alleys at every turn for the team’s cast of wingers, in recent weeks spectators have been left wondering what else has been slipped into the mince.

United’s runners are pulling up and the match day fare is being watered down. Efficiency not fluidity is now the order of the day. After the cruel cocktail of hope, complacency and collapse suffered last season, Sir Alex Ferguson has the whip out and is ready to ride his squad over the finish if he needs to.

A third Champions League is out of his grasp for another year at least and judging by the team’s showing against Chelsea the FA Cup wasn’t a priority unless the treble was on. Fergie demands history. Everyone’s winning a double these days, and at 72 his time is coming to a close. Trebles, Champions Leagues and Premier League point records are what truly count, and if he can’t add either of the former to his legacy this May, the latter shall have to do. It’s not a bad stop-gap on the way to extending his legend once again either way.

City must also shoulder some of the blame for the dread of non-spectacle that hangs over Old Trafford. The signing of a certain Dutch striker is not the game-changer Roberto Mancini would like the footballing world to believe. From his dalliances with an undercooked 3-5-2, to the narrowing of City’s player repertoire in his transfer dealings, the grey-haired Italian has failed to progress his squad in any real way. Crashing out of the Champions League bottom of their group and hiccupping again in the league, City appear to only enjoy one way of playing. Their 4-2-2-2-cum-4-2-3-1 system is effective in the right circumstances but it is hugely dependant on player confidence, form and individual skill. They lack a functional Plan B which their three-at-the-back set-up just can’t provide, and with a squad overstocked with all-too-similar specialists there is little variety on offer to mix things up. It would be too much to say that City have regressed, they’ve merely stood still.

Does stuttering opposition excuse the stumbles of a victor? What would a recording-breaking 20^th title be without a worthy, defining flourish? A dour anti-climax seems unfitting for such a landmark league win, but it would also be misrepresentative of the football played by United earlier in the season. Conversely, an adventurous or dominant win over City would likely be enough to recast these last few weeks in history as an uplifting march to glory.

The final act of any trophy win is key to how it is perceived. How different the consensus concerning United’s quality would be if the season were flipped and played out in reverse. Even a surprise final day loss to Everton would not be enough to dampen the hype around such a Premier League triumph and the manner in which it was won. Bayern Munich’s early call on the Bundesliga title would not have been the only stylish runaway success this year.

It’s not bitter or biased to suggest that champions have a duty to dominate the competition they win, especially at pivotal moments, and especially for a club that supposedly prides itself on its traditions of exciting, attacking football. Manchester United need to produce an answer to their critics on par with Spain’s 4-0 win against Italy in the European Championships; a performance that added a much needed layer of glamour to a much-criticised tournament run. A win tonight needn’t be record-breaking or even equal to City’s result last year, but a performance that at least attempts to shade Mancini’s men as spectators to United’s own game plan and ability is a must; the sort of game threatened by the first half of Madrid’s most recent visit to Manchester.

Winners write history of course, but their accounts look far more believable and vivid if others are convinced by their greatness. Sir Alex, having won a few hearts and minds on top of his silverware haul, surely knows and appreciates this, and the purchases of van Persie and Kagawa, along with his renewed faith in a slow-brewing cast of highly skilled youngsters, are all decisive moves of intent as well as function. Tonight could yet be the biggest game of the season, replacing the scene of disappointment and Nani’s controversial red card last month, but United must be proactive and claim their title in the manner their season as a whole demands.

In the latest installment of the James Bond franchise, Skyfall, our tuxedoed secret agent finds himself confronted with some difficult truths. Early in the film his inability to subjugate an adversary forces his superior to make a decision which, when carried out, places our hero’s career in limbo. Upon his return to MI6 he is submitted to a stringent physical and psychological evaluation in order to assess his ability and readiness to return to the “field”.

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A strange sort of consensus seemed to have spread through the media amid the fallout from last week’s red card against Real Madrid. Judging by the scores marked down in a number of post-match player-rating articles, Nani appeared to have failed to justify his selection.

That was hardly the case however, with the winger offering Manchester United a tricky outlet and an unpredictable threat that seemed to spook Real’s defensive line. With van Persie hovering at the team’s apex, and Welbeck making use of his prodigious industry to both mark out Alonso and constantly break forward, the Portugese winger was a key third in the triple-threat set-up that had kept Madrid on their toes at the back and unable to fully enact their own game plan. Although the winger’s contribution to United’s defensive tactics was minimal, his ability to retain the ball high up the pitch and beat his man – the opposition’s weak point Alvaro Arbeloa – prevented the likes of Ramos and Varane from properly pushing up to support their nullified midfield.

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‘The game that the whole world wanted to see’ was how Manchester United’s recent clash with Real Madrid was built up. Unlike the endless nauseating Skysports promotions for mundane Premiership fixtures this game was a genuine mouth-watering prospect. It may be a forbidden opinion inside the walls of Barcelona but this was the locking of horns of the world’s two biggest clubs.

They both possess the fanbase, appeal and quality that the rest of the footballing world can only envy. The only shame is that one of them had to exit the competition so early. And then there were the subplots: Wayne Rooney’s absence, Mourinho’s self-made job interview and the return to Old Trafford of the supreme Cristiano Ronaldo. Unfortunately, everything has been somewhat overshadowed by a refereeing decision that was questionable at best. But it shouldn’t be that way. Indeed, the significance of the relationship that the clubs have shared over the years has been lost amongst the drama, controversy, outrage and the relentless pursuit of football trophies on both sides.

On the face of it, the two represent two very different ideologies. United have traditionally drawn their support from the mass working class population of Manchester and its surrounding urban sprawl. They also tend to reject nationalistic ideas – priding themselves on their Manchester roots, not their English ones. In contrast, Spain is more splintered into regions and identities than any other European state, yet Real Madrid embodied the ideas of Franco and Spanish nationalism.

Many lazily assume that the relationship between the clubs has always been tempestuous and frosty. Sir Alex spoke in 2008 that they were a ‘mob’ to whom he ‘would not sell a virus’. In context, this was when Real Madrid where openly declaring their interest in Cristiano Ronaldo who was developing into one of the finest footballers ever to grace the planet. A year later United reluctantly accepted a ground-breaking fee of £80 million to bring Ronaldo to Madrid, becoming the fourth United player in six seasons to make the switch (Beckham, van Nistelrooy and Heinze were the others).

Relations between the clubs have been more amiable since Mourinho arrived a year later as he continued his strong personal friendship with Sir Alex Ferguson. It’s a friendship that shares many parallels with that which existed between Sir Matt Busby and Santiago Bernabéu – the legendary former Madrid striker and President whose name was given to the club’s stadium.

The relationship between Busby and Bernabéu is outlined in John Ludden’s book A Tale of Two Cities: Manchester and Madrid 1957-1968 and Ludden noted his surprise that there is some modern animosity between the clubs. “When you look back on the history and you see what Real Madrid did for United after Munich.” he said, “It’s incredible.”

Busby came to Bernabéu’s attention following the 1957 European Cup semi-final, where the ‘Busby Babes’ put in a spirited performance which wasn’t enough to stop Real Madrid, who won the tie 5-3 on aggregate on their way to retaining the trophy. Bernabéu was so impressed with the Scot’s managerial work that he offered him a job at Real, but Busby wanted to lift the trophy with United, and politely declined.

Manchester United’s tragedy and history changed forever the following season, when the Munich air crash wiped out most of the starting eleven and rocked the club at the core. Unsurprisingly, a makeshift young United outfit where defeated by Milan in the semi-finals, who in turn where defeated by Madrid who won the tournament again. The Madrid President Bernabeu dedicated the trophy to United, and even offered the trophy to the club, who refused.

Bernabeu wanted to go further, and offered Madrid’s most prized asset, the most coveted player in the world – the great Alfredo Di Stefano, to United the following year. All parties had agreed to a short-term loan deal being accepted, but astoundingly the Football Association blocked the move in the belief that it would halt the progress of a British player.

Bernabeu, and Madrid, were not perturbed in their efforts to help.  They made a memorial pennant with the names of the Munich dead, called “Champions of Honour”, which was sold in Spain to raise money for United. They offered the use of their lavish facilities to the injured and families of the deceased for free, and then arranged a series of fund-raising friendlies between the clubs

The first two of the friendlies arrived at the tail end of 1959, and Madrid won both – scoring twelve but the six they conceded showed that United were well on the way to rebuilding another fantastic side. In a fund-raising banquet for the families of those rocked by Munich which followed, Bernabeu described Busby as not just the ‘bravest’ but the ‘greatest’ man he had ever met in football. Busby responded that ‘Madrid are now like our family’.

The gap on the field was closing: the following year the then 5-times European champions overcame United in a classic 3-2 encounter, before Busby’s side finally overcame them 3-1 in 1961 and then 2-0 the following year.

These friendlies were an incredible gesture by Madrid, helping their great rivals back on their feet following one of the greatest sporting tragedies ever. Busby’s rebuilding process oversaw triumphs in the FA Cup and then the league. Fittingly, the 1968 European Cup victory was exactly a decade on from Munich, and saw them defeat Madrid in the semi-finals before lifting the trophy. Bernabeu remarked: “If it had to be anyone, then I am glad it was them”.

This puts into perspective the animosity shown by United fans towards Madrid, and perhaps today commercially-driven football leaders should take a few lessons from Bernabeu’s graciousness and generosity. Acts which should never be forgotten.

‘He’s an incredible human being. It’s as simple as that’ – the words used by Sir Alex Ferguson to describe a player who might just get a statue or an Old Trafford stand named in his honour in similar fashion to the wily old Scot. Many within the game have even tipped him to replace the man who has managed him throughout his professional career.

As Ryan Giggs is on the verge of bringing up his millennium of senior matches, we pay tribute to a man who will go down as one of the greatest to ever grace the pitch. The 39-year-old is a one-off and it is unlikely that his combination of footballing excellence and longevity will ever be replicated.

Wayne Rooney is closing-in on goal scoring records for Manchester United and England and, at 27 years of age, needs just another 56 goals to overtake Sir Bobby Charlton to top the Old Trafford all-time striking charts. Judging by his scoring rate over the past few seasons, it’s a target he should be able to hit, but what does the future hold for Rooney beyond these milestones?

As his first touch becomes evermore precarious and unreliable when off-form, we’re told he’s not a young man anymore, and received wisdom tells us that football is a young man’s game.

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Twelve points. Not since May 2001 has the gap between the Premiership leaders and their nearest challengers been so gaping. Manchester United have garnered the highest points tally (65) after 26 games than any other outfit in the Premiership era.

Yet this is a side which receives very little love from the media. Every journalist or pundit stresses to clarify that this is far from a vintage Manchester United side. They’re not blowing teams away every week and their level of performance is far from spectacular. They will go out of the Champions League to Real Madrid and any domestic success will be as a result of the perceived low standard of the competition.

Now, I’m old enough to remember back to May last year. Manchester United ‘blew it’ in ‘the most exciting title race ever’. Manchester City had a seemingly endless chequebook, and by all accounts had a far superior starting eleven and greater strength in depth. Radio phone-in’s across the land and internet football forums were gleeful that not only were United no longer the biggest club in the world, but they weren’t even going to be the biggest in their own city. Then there was Chelsea – European champions and ready to launch a fresh assault on the Manchester dominance.

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