Ferguson’s words of warning back in 2002 had been vindicated and Campbell and Blair, though the latter’s ‘real sense of certainty’ appeared still to be in place, may have had more than one occasion on which to reflect on the educated political instinct of their friend from Old Trafford.
Then came the collapse of the global economic system and, although the scandal over MPs’ expenses affected all parties, the Government headed by Gordon Brown bore the brunt of public disaffection. In the election of May 2010, the Labour Party lost the keys to Nos 10 and 11 Downing Street. Ferguson had remained loyal to the cause, appearing in a television programme to extol the virtues of Brown and the party. Perhaps the supportive profile was a little lower than before. Or maybe it was just that Ferguson’s energies were focused on the other cause, lost three days after the election when Chelsea’s title was confirmed. At any rate, as one observer put it, ‘the curtains were drawn on New Labour’. Thirteen years, it was, since Ferguson had rung Campbell to suggest he draw Tony Blair’s curtains on the new dawn.
The Rock and a Hard Place
T
hat 2002/3 season had been one in which Ferguson, when he managed to turn away from work, became increasingly concerned about not just Iraq but his understanding with Magnier and McManus over the horse; he wanted to know just how rich he was going to become.
On the field, though, things went as he liked them to go, at least in the League, with a gathering momentum that might have reminded him of the Rock’s pounding hooves.
In late November, missing their injured captain, United had lain as low as fifth, but Roy Keane returned and, with Van Nistelrooy in riotous form, led them to the top. Their last League defeat was on Boxing Day. Once more Arsenal had been eclipsed (though Wenger’s men lifted the FA Cup) and towards the end of the season record Premier League crowds of nearly 68,000 at Old Trafford underlined United’s growth, although already Ferguson was pushing the directors to expand the ground further.
In the Champions League, United had been obliged to pre-qualify, but then it was the usual procession through the two group stages, lent additional excitement by the quality of home and away victories over Juventus and the mouth-watering fact that the final was to be at Old Trafford. Beat Juventus and you win the trophy: it was not a bad rule at the time and it proved reliable. Milan beat Juventus in the final, Andrei Shevchenko converting the decisive penalty on the turf that Beckham, Keane and Van Nistelrooy called home.
United had gone out in the quarter-finals to Real Madrid, who were 3-0 up at the Bernabeú when Van Nistelrooy pulled one back. The return match was wonderfully dramatic, even though Ronaldo, the Brazilian who had been leading scorer at the previous year’s World Cup, seemed to have killed it as a contest with his first goal in the twelfth minute. He scored again after Van Nistelrooy had struck, and yet again after an Ivan Helguera own goal and departed to a standing ovation from United and Real fans alike. Beckham then scored twice, following up a free-kick with a less characteristic dribble and drive, to give United victory on the night.
Almost overlooked in the excitement was Ferguson’s apparently bizarre decision to start the match with Beckham on the bench; their relationship had become increasingly tense amid rumours that Real were taking an interest. As soon as Beckham had taken over from Verón, the threat of a thrashing was lifted and United obtained the consolation of victory on a glowing night. Roman Abramovich was a guest at that most memorable match – his ticket had been ordered by the agent Pini Zahavi – and legend has it that he decided there and then to buy a Champions League club. Price, availability and location, apparently, all gave Chelsea the edge over United.
United shares, meanwhile, had been steadily accumulated by Magnier and McManus, but any popular notion that Ferguson would benefit had been dispelled. Quite the opposite; early in 2003, just as United were finding the form that was to carry them to the title, Ferguson began to pursue the matter of the stud fees for Rock of Gibraltar. He followed up his letter to Coolmore with a telephone call and then contacted the stud registrars and, with the feeling a man gets in the pit of his stomach when a multi-million-pound invoice is disputed, learned that his name was not specifically entered next to the Rock’s.
Ferguson and Magnier started to talk (McManus stood aside, while supporting Magnier’s version of events). Magnier made various offers over a period of months, culminating in one of £300,000 a year for the entirety of the Rock’s stud career – expected to be about twenty years – or a flat payment of £7 million. Ferguson rejected this but now reduced his demand for 50 per cent of the horse’s earnings to 20 per cent.
Talking to both parties all the while was Dermot Desmond, the leading shareholder in Celtic. He was friendly with Ferguson, who had helped him to persuade Martin O’Neill to manage the Glasgow club, and very close to Magnier and McManus, not just at Coolmore but in other ventures, including a Barbados hotel.
Desmond had also bought some shares in United; his stake was about 1.5 per cent. The Glazer family, owners of an American football franchise and, at that stage, thought to be merely exploring the potential of European ‘soccer’, held a little more. Harry Dobson, a Scottish mining entrepreneur, had bought 6.5 per cent and John de Mol, the Dutchman responsible for
Big Brother
, 4.1 per cent. Cubic by now had 10.4 per cent, taking it above the 9.9 per cent of Sky, making the Irishmen the club’s leading shareholders. And still the public perception was of Ferguson’s horse-racing cronies steadily buying in. It even survived a report that Paddy Harverson, United’s head of communications, had spoken disparagingly of the Irish to a journalist. Naturally this angered Magnier. If Ferguson, whom he regarded as part of the United establishment, wanted a fight, he could have one. Heels were dug in. Ferguson engaged Dublin lawyers for a court case over the stud fees that would have to be heard in Ireland.
Magnier’s Gloves Come Off
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he dispute hit the streets around the time that United were completing the £12.4 million signing of Cristiano Ronaldo.
At first – strange as it may be to recall – the Portuguese teenager was widely regarded as flashy, a show pony, an inadequate replacement for Beckham, who had been sold to Real Madrid a couple of months after their spectacular visit to Old Trafford. Signings also included Eric Djemba Djemba, Kléberson and David Bellion. The assumption that Ferguson had a just case against Magnier protected him from criticism; the newspapers took his side.
Ferguson and controversy were, however, recurrent companions. The previous season, at around the time he was absorbing the realisation that Magnier would fight him for the stud money, there had been the incident of the flying boot in the dressing room that cut Beckham’s eyebrow and had the player advancing on Ferguson until Ryan Giggs restrained him. Now Ferguson, after haranguing match officials at Newcastle, was banished to the stands.
Then he took on the FA when Rio Ferdinand missed a drug test, making irate phone calls to the organisation’s head of communication, Paul Barber. ‘This is a fucking disgrace,’ he stormed, once again rallying behind a member of the United family in his perceived hour of need. ‘You’re killing the boy’s reputation.’
The truth was that any damage to Ferdinand’s reputation was self-inflicted in that he had forgotten to take the routine test at Carrington – he had driven off to go shopping while the three other chosen players gave their samples – and left the FA with no alternative but to omit him from the England squad to travel to Istanbul for a European Championship qualifying match. Had he been included and played, Uefa would have been entitled to throw England out of the tournament. Ferguson should have known this. Instead, he furiously accused the FA of ‘hanging the boy out to dry’ – a phrase repeated by Gary Neville as the players rallied round their grounded colleague, even debating a boycott of the trip that would have benefited only the Turkish hosts.
It was an example of how Ferguson’s United circled their wagons. Even David Gill, who had recently taken over from Peter Kenyon as chief executive, stood defiant alongside Ferguson and his errant defender.
And then Ferguson asked for a new contract to take him to 2007 and the age of sixty-five.
This only confirmed Magnier’s assumptions about the politics of Old Trafford. Ferguson had the board and the new chief executive – Gill had been promoted when Abramovich’s riches lured Kenyon to Chelsea – firmly with him. The battle lines were being drawn and the power of Magnier’s artillery soon became evident as it emerged that Cubic had bought out Sky, increasing its stake to 23.15 per cent. The Glazers had 9.6 per cent and by now were seen as the good guys.
In November, with United trailing not only a rampant Arsenal but Chelsea under Claudio Ranieri, Ferguson’s writ arrived in Dublin. He was now arguing that the Rock’s value had been enhanced by association with his name and Magnier’s lawyers, dismissing his case as ‘without merit’, promised a vigorous retort.
A token of Magnier’s determination was detected at the United AGM, during which noticeably well-informed shareholder representatives, whom Michael Crick found to be actors, asked questions about the conduct of transfers. Around the same time stories about various deals appeared in the
Sunday Times
. Anyone seeking to probe Ferguson’s vulnerabilities – and Magnier had hired corporate investigators – would have concentrated on this area. In particular there had been the embarrassment over the activities of Jason Ferguson in transfers and Sir Roland Smith’s unhappiness, before his death and replacement as plc chairman by Sir Roy Gardner, about Elite’s having received up to £1.5 million in connection with Jaap Stam’s move to Lazio.
The fact that Lazio had paid it might well have heightened Sir Roland’s concern. He could have been forgiven for asking himself: why had the Romans been so grateful – might United have got a better deal?
Jason and his father also featured in Tom Bower’s acclaimed book
Broken Dreams: Vanity, Greed and the Souring of British Football
: ‘Agents discovered that Sir Alex encouraged players seeking transfers in and out of the club to abandon their established agents and engage Jason Ferguson . . .’ He may, of course, have done so because of his absolute trust in Jason and distaste for agents in general (with exceptions, such as the disgraced Hauge). But he must have known that others might take a different view of Jason’s involvement in Stam’s departure, the engagement of Laurent Blanc and the arrival from Wigan Athletic of Roy Carroll, a goalkeeper with a weakness for gambling.
A failure to take account of this proved self-damaging. When Magnier heard that Ferguson was not only seeking a long-term contract extension but expressing confidence that Gill would arrange it, the gloves came off.
Even the discovery that Ferguson, after encountering a heart murmur, was to have a pacemaker fitted became relevant: was it responsible in these circumstances for the club to commit itself for four more years? Ferguson laughed off his difficulty, saying the players had been shocked to discover he had a heart. But Magnier was no laughing matter – and not for turning back.
In January 2004 he sent the board a letter containing the famous ‘99 questions’. They found their way into the
Daily Mail
(by coincidence a paper against which Ferguson had held a long-standing grudge) and the issues raised included ‘conduct of player transfers’, ‘commissions paid in relation to large transactions’, ‘accuracy of presentation of financial data in annual accounts’ and ‘conflicts of interest’. This seemed to be the crux of it: ‘There are some individual transfers where the fees and payments made to players and agents are particularly large . . . what we cannot understand is the necessity for the relative secrecy in which the agents conduct their role and also the astonishing fees which have been charged to the company on the completion of transfers.’
Manchester United was not the only club where such questions could be asked. Football was – and is – a very dubiously run industry and few were greatly shocked when, towards the end of 2009, it was disclosed that Premier League clubs alone had paid a total of £71 million in one year to intermediaries in transfers.
Why anything needs to be paid to these people, who used to be confined to the perfectly legitimate and desirable sphere of player representation, is the big question. Clubs are perfectly capable of arranging their own transfers and many observers of the game have long believed that the practice of agents acting for clubs (as distinct from players) is institutionally corrupt, however legal, accepted and commonplace.
So naturally, as Ferguson paid a call on his old foes the FA to assure them he had nothing to fear from the investigation, there was some relish for the notion of Magnier shining a light into the corners of United’s business. But I warned the readers of the
Sunday Telegraph
: ‘Just lose no sleep in your excitement at the prospect of a court battle bristling with allegations – because there won’t be one. While Magnier and Ferguson share a gift for the taking of tough postures – one is strong and silent, the other amusingly ebullient – nothing scares such men like disclosure. The case will be settled.’
Sadder and Wiser
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erguson must have wished it could go to a jury of United supporters. At the next home match – a 3-2 victory over Southampton in which Louis Saha, signed from Fulham, scored on his debut – a chant of ‘Stand up if you love Fergie’ was ignored only by the visitors’ section (and the press and directors’ boxes, where etiquette forbids such display). There were less supportive chants about Magnier and where he could stick his ninety-nine questions. But the red hordes and their circled wagons could not protect Ferguson now. There was only one way out and, upon telephoning Magnier in Barbados, he discovered that it amounted to surrender.