Page 48 - Alex Ferguson: My Autobiography

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A WIND of change was coming. But it was not here yet. From the summer of 2003 to May 2006 was one
of my least fertile spells. We won the FA Cup in 2004 and the League Cup two years later, but
Arsenal and Chelsea were the League’s title-winning outfits in that period.
Before Cristiano Ronaldo and Wayne Rooney could become the core of our 2008 Champions
League winning side, there was a rocky road when we attempted to implant experienced players,
many of whom failed to make the expected impact. David Beckham had left for Real Madrid and

Verón was to leave for Chelsea. Barthez was replaced in goal by Tim Howard, and Kléberson, Eric
Djemba-Djemba and David Bellion were among the new faces. Ronaldinho might have been, too, had
he not said yes, then no, to our offer.
You can’t dodge the truth about those years. We rushed down the path of buying in proven players –
who we thought would match our standards right away. Kléberson, for example, was a World Cup

winner with Brazil and was only 24. Verón was an established player with a worldwide reputation.
Djemba-Djemba had been playing at a decent level in France. They were easy or obvious signings, a
fact that worried me. I don’t like easy signings. I like having to fight for a player on the grounds that a
battle to extricate him means you’re acquiring something valuable. I liked it when the selling club
were desperate to hang on to their man. But the players we bought around then were easy to recruit.
It felt as if we were signing every goalkeeper in the country. Mark Bosnich was a prime example.
The Bosnich buy stemmed from Peter Schmeichel announcing in the autumn of his final season that he
would be retiring, which caught us on the hop. We jumped into decisions.

We met Bosnich in January, despite reports filtering through to us about his conduct off the pitch. I
sent someone down to watch him in training. He was doing nothing in the sessions that convinced me
he was the right man for Manchester United. So I changed tack and went for Edwin van der Sar
instead, spoke to his agent and then to Martin Edwards, who told me, ‘Alex, I’m sorry, I’ve shaken
hands with Bosnich.’

That was a blow. Martin had shaken Mark’s hand and would not go back on his word, which I
respect. But it was a bad piece of business. Bosnich was a problem. His training and fitness levels
were below what we needed. We pushed him to a higher tier and felt we did quite well with him. He
was terrific in our victory over Palmeiras in the Intercontinental Cup, in which he ought to have been
man of the match, ahead of Giggs. Not much later, we played down at Wimbledon in February, and
Bosnich was tucking into everything: sandwiches, soups, steaks. He was going through the menu,
eating like a horse.

I told him: ‘For Christ’s sake, Mark, we’ve got the weight off you, why are you tucking into all that
stuff?’
‘I’m starving, gaffer,’ he said.