Page 85 - Alex Ferguson: My Autobiography

apprenticeship. Managers with experience were tossed aside. Look at Bobby Robson, who was
pushed out by Newcastle. Sam Allardyce, a proven manager, was given six months at the same club.
Ridiculous. Having to face the press on a Friday was galling. None would ask me to my face: ‘Aren’t
you past your sell-by date?’ But they would write it. They would use the power of the pen to destroy a

manager.
Momentum had its own logic. Supporters would say: ‘What they’re reporting is right, you know,
I’ve been saying that for years.’ I knew where we were going. I knew we needed a bit of time. Not
too much, because at that time in my career I wouldn’t have been granted unlimited leeway. Had I not
felt I was on the verge of building another good team, I would have walked of my own volition. I was
confident in Rooney and Ronaldo. I was sure the scouting structure was strong. Players would be
found to take us back to our natural level. Though we only won the League Cup, there were some

good performances in 2006.
Our form recovered after the Benfica defeat, with wins against Wigan, Aston Villa, West Brom and
Bolton, which left us nine points behind Chelsea in the League. Then Evra and Vidić joined. At the
back, we practised defensive drills almost every week, especially with crosses: position, attacking
the ball, movement of strikers against them, with the full-backs coming into it. We would start off at
the centre circle, with two strikers and two sets of wide players, right and left. We’d start off by

knocking the ball up to one of the strikers, who would have a shot. As soon as that happened, a second
ball would be played out to the side position, from where they would cross, and then a third ball
would come from the edge of the box back in again; so they had to react to the shot, the first cross and
the ball coming into the box. Three tests in one.
The culture of our game has changed. How many centre-halves can you name who actually like
defending? Vidić liked it. He loved the challenge of sticking his head in there. You could tell that the
thrill of contesting those 50–50 balls animated him. Smalling is a bit like that: he enjoys defending.

Vidić was a dour, uncompromising sod. He was a proud Serb. In 2009 he came to see me to say he
might be getting called up.
‘What do you mean, called up?’ I said, alarmed.
‘Kosovo. I am going,’ he said. ‘It’s my duty.’
He had the eyes for it.
The search for new talent crossed continents and frontiers. Gérard Piqué was one we picked out at

a youth tournament. The door to good young Barcelona players had been opened by Arsenal’s
acquisition of Cesc Fàbregas, so we were sure of our ground in dealing with the Piqué family. Our
problem was that the player’s grandfather had been a member of the Nou Camp ruling hierarchy.
Gérard’s family were embedded in Barcelona’s history.
Equally they had changed the first-team coach several times, so there was flux. Piqué was a terrific
player and I was deeply disappointed when he told us he wanted to move back to Spain. He was an
exceptional passer of the ball and a great personality with a winning mentality. His family are all

winners: they are successful people. That shone from his mother and father. Unfortunately, he didn’t
want to wait for Ferdinand and Vidić to fall apart. That was my problem. Piqué and Evans would
have made a fine partnership for the next ten years.
When we played Barcelona in the Champions League semi-final and drew 0–0, Gérard’s father
came to see me in the team hotel – they were really lovely people – and explained that Barcelona
would like to take his son back. His parents were also keen to see him come home. They missed him.

And Gérard was missing first-team football and believed he could earn a starting place at Barcelona.
It was all straightforward. The eventual fee was 8 million euros. He had cost us £180,000 on account