Page 27 - Alex Ferguson: My Autobiography

Normally a manager brings an assistant and that assistant stays with him. United are a different
proposition because my assistants acquired a high profile and became targets for other clubs. I lost
my assistant, Archie Knox, to Rangers, two weeks before the 1991 European Cup Winners’ Cup final,
and in Archie’s absence I took Brian Whitehouse to Rotterdam for the game and made sure all the

backroom staff were involved.
Later I went scouting for a No. 2. Nobby Stiles said: ‘Why don’t you promote Brian Kidd?’ Brian
knew the club and had transformed the local scouting network, bringing in a lot of his old pals, United
men and schoolteachers who knew the local area. That was the best work Brian ever did. It was a
terrific success. So I gave Brian the job. He did well in the sense that he became very friendly with
the players and put on a good training session. He had been to Italy to watch the Serie A teams and
brought a lot of that wisdom home.

When he left to go to Blackburn in 1998, I told him: ‘I hope you know what you’re doing.’ When a
coach leaves, they always ask: ‘What do you think?’ With Archie I couldn’t get Martin Edwards to
match the Rangers offer. As for Brian, I didn’t feel he was suited to management. Steve McClaren:
management material, no doubt about that. What I told Steve was: you should make sure you get the
right club, the right chairman. Essential. Always. West Ham and Southampton were the ones who
wanted him at this stage.

From nowhere, Steve took a call from Steve Gibson, the chairman of Middlesbrough, and my
advice was, ‘Absolutely no doubt, take it.’ Bryan Robson, though he had lost his job there, always
spoke highly of Steve Gibson, who was young, fresh, and always willing to put his money in. They
had a great training ground. ‘That’s your job,’ I told Steve.
Organised, strong and always looking for new ideas, Steve was made for management. He was
effervescent and energetic with a good personality.
Carlos Queiroz, another of my No. 2s, was brilliant. Just brilliant. Outstanding. An intelligent,

meticulous man. The recommendation to hire him came from Andy Roxburgh, at a time when we were
beginning to look at more southern-hemisphere players and perhaps needed a coach from beyond the
northern European nations, and one who could speak another language or two. Andy was quite clear.
Carlos was outstanding. He had coached South Africa, so I called in Quinton Fortune one day for his
opinion. ‘Fantastic,’ said Quinton. ‘To what level, do you think?’ ‘Any,’ said Quinton. ‘Well,’ I
thought, ‘that will do me.’

When Carlos came over to England in 2002 to speak to us, I was waiting for him in my tracksuit.
Carlos was immaculately dressed. He has that suaveness about him. He was so impressive that I
offered him the job right away. He was the closest you could be to being the Manchester United
manager without actually holding the title. He took responsibility for a lot of issues that he didn’t have
to get involved in.
‘I need to talk to you.’ Carlos had rung me one day in 2003 as I was holidaying in the south of
France. What could it be? Who was after him? ‘I just need to talk to you,’ he repeated.

So he flew into Nice and I took a taxi to Nice Airport, where we found a quiet corner.
‘I’ve been offered the Real Madrid job,’ he said.
‘I’m going to say two things to you. One, you can’t turn it down. Two, you’re leaving a really good
club. You may not last more than a year at Real Madrid. You could be at Man United for a lifetime.’
‘I know,’ Carlos said. ‘I just feel it’s such a challenge.’
‘Carlos, I can’t talk you out of that one. Because if I do, and in a year’s time Real Madrid are

winning the European Cup, you’ll be saying – I could have been there. But I’m just telling you, it’s a
nightmare job.’