LOVE him or hate him – and let’s face it there is no in-between – it’s hard to deny Sir Alex Ferguson is the greatest football manager this country has ever seen.
Yes there are arguments for Shankly, Paisley, Busby, even Brian Clough, but a man who has overseen the winning of 32 trophies deserves the accolade.
There is still a glint in the old fox’s eye. His passion for the game is unrivalled, every goal is greeted with a clenched fist, often a dash to the touchline, and a look of pure delight on his face.
Sunday’s Carling Cup triumph over Aston Villa meant just as much to him as his very first trophy.
It doesn’t matter whether it’s East Stirlingshire, Aberdeen or Manchester United he HAS to win. That burning desire remains undiminished.
I was once the victim of the famous hairdryer treatment, for having the audacity to ask Fergie for his team an hour before kick-off at Elland Road.
As I was working for Yorkshire Television at the time he regarded me as a potential spy and certainly not to be trusted to keep his line-up secret, even though I was following normal professional practise and wouldn’t have dreamed of passing it on.
Relations between the two of us remained frosty until I pipped him for a trophy with a nearest-the-pin shot at Burnley Golf Club during Stan Ternent’s testimonial day.
During my short acceptance speech I commented that I’d probably never get an interview from the great man ever again.
Not only did he guffaw with laughter, he actually came up to shake my hand and said: “Well played, you deserved that” and promised me a signed Ruud Van Nistelrooy shirt for Bradford (Park Avenue), which duly arrived a few weeks later.
There are two sides to this son of a Glasgow shipyard worker, but I still wouldn’t like to cross him and we’ll probably never see his like again.
