Thank you Sir Alex Ferguson. But a simple thank you is not enough for a man who I don’t know, yet has had such an impact on my life.
Thank you for being the most successful manager in footballing history. For making Manchester United the biggest club in the world.
Thank you for producing great team after great team, and daring a kid like me to dream the impossible dream.
Thank you for the last minute goals and never refusing to die. For encapsulating the spirit of the Busby Babes…you’ve made us proud to carry on flying that red flag high.
Thank you for embodying what the heart and soul of this club. For the attacking football, developing the community and promoting the youngsters. “You’ll never win anything with kids”. Well, you did.
Thank you for ’99 and for making me cry absolute tears of my joy in the living room with my brother. That still remains one of the greatest nights of my life.
Thank you for Moscow in ’08. Stumbling across Waterloo Bridge at midnight singing with my best friend, going from the depths of despair to unparalleled joy…after ‘99 I never thought I would feel like that again.
Thank you for that first league title in ’93, 7 years old and you had me at Brucie.
Thank you for bringing me King Eric. The one player I forever want to mimic.
Thank you for your little touchline jig. Knees bent, fists raised, celebrating with a mad jumping Brian Kidd.
Thank you for sending Kevin Keegan over the edge. We all ‘loved’ it. For defeating manager after manager, every threat, every contender, every pretender. And Rafa…that is a FACT.
Thank you for Squeaky Bum Time. And Fergie Time…they were the best of times.
Thank you for being you, you mad stubborn old Govan. From defending Eric for his flying kick, to sending a flying boot to Becks’ head with a swift kick. For adhering to principle and standing your ground, to the best sound bites and fierce one line quips.
Thank you for putting Manchester United first. For getting rid of stars getting too big or an over inflated ego, even though it hurt to see Ruud and Yip Jaap Stam go. And for the ones that stayed and got carried away, the hairdryer would come out to play.
Thank you for knocking Liverpool right off their fucking perch.
Thank you for leaving behind a legacy. One of talent, that are Champions and still hungry.
Thank you for being a father figure to many, and building the club like a family. I shook your hand after you opened Hulme Bridge. You were the closest thing to a God that lived.
Thank you for the one last trick you had up your sleeve of bringing us RVP. The noisy neighbours were shushed and we brought home number 20.
Thank you for making sure that Manchester is Red. In your own words…there’s no doubt about that.
Hated across England. Loved in Manchester.
You taught me about the importance of hard work, leadership and chewing gum. That being fiercely competitive and incredibly stubborn is not wrong. That winning is paramount, but dignity in defeat is just as important. You remind me so much of my own father.
You’ll be the Director and Ambassador for the great football club you built. But not seeing you in the dug-out after being in charge longer than I have been alive on this Earth…that will be strange. Whoever the next manager, or the one after that. It will always be Ferguson’s Red and White Army to me.
I am beyond happy that you got to leave on your own terms. You got to bow out as a Champion. With a statue in your honour and stand in your name. Manchester United Football Club will never, ever be the same.
It may seem sad to many of you, but I feel like I have lost a part of my family today. So I don’t particularly care what reaction this gets, because only a few people I know will truly understand.