The 71-year-old feared and revered was celebrated and applauded for his immense contribution to British football as much as his loyal and committed service to the Red Devils – Trafford council even named a road after him and rightly so.
Okay, so that was May and now, in late October, he has launched his autobiography – the story of his life and career. Who could begrudge the guy a memoir? Not me, I was hoping it would be a work of great passion (which it was) and a work of great historical and sentimental value (which it was) but I was also hoping it would it be laden with shot-popping and score-settling (which indeed it was).
That’s all good and Sir Alex has done exactly what we all expected him to do upon retirement – reveal all and reignite the flames of past grievances. He’s done his job and all due respect to him but I’m afraid now that he need needs to be quiet and go off to travel and spend time with his family as he said he would.
Ferguson has achieved all there is to achieve – not just as manager of Manchester United but also with his book revelations. He’s cheesed off Liverpool fans, he’s undermined Roy Keane, he’s set the record straight on Wayne Rooney, he’s done it all and, crucially, now he’s said it all. It’s literally all said and done.
So please Sir Alex, if you are ever in receipt of my open letter, I beg of you kindly from a bedsit in Bethnal Green, please – pretty please – shhhh. It’s done now, you can go home and get some rest. There is nothing left to say and nothing left to do. Just give it up, let it go and, for crying out loud, retire already.