Oliver Kay in today's Times.
This is not how Sir Alex Ferguson imagined it when he abdicated last May, basking in the warmth of the fondest of farewells. Since then, his visits to Old Trafford have become pained, anguished affairs, whether it is watching Manchester United’s latest miserable underperformance or sitting in his office at the ground, listening to the laments of his increasingly embattled successor.
On Tuesday, after United fell to their sixth defeat in 15 Barclays Premier League home matches under David Moyes, losing 3-0 to Manchester City, some supporters vented their anger at Ferguson as they headed past the directors’ box towards the exits. Gone was the reverence of last May as Ferguson was berated and castigated over his decision to appoint — or, as it seemed, anoint — Moyes as his replacement.
Reaching the Champions League quarter-finals can mask the inescapable reality that United are in a bad, bad place under Moyes right now — seventh in the Premier League, hopelessly adrift of the top four and, worse, afflicted by a malaise that is souring the atmosphere both at the training ground and, finally, at the stadium. Even without facing accusations that it is all his fault, Ferguson must look at the state of his kingdom with a sense of growing despair.
A penny for your thoughts, Sir Alex? No, let us put it a different way. Speak up, Sir Alex. In the later years of his managerial career, Ferguson often used his press conferences and his press columns to speak up on behalf of troubled managers — Sam Allardyce, Steve Bruce, Alex McLeish, even sometime foes such as Kevin Keegan, Arsène Wenger and Rafael Benítez, when facing difficulties — but, on Moyes, we have barely heard a peep out of him.
Last October, Ferguson said precious little about Moyes, who even then was feeling the heat after defeats by Liverpool, City and West Bromwich Albion. When the BBC spoke to him at a Uefa conference in January, Ferguson took umbrage at being asked about Moyes. On March 1, he finally opened up, but only as far as four short sentences, the gist of which was: “They’ll be fine.”
They’ll be fine? United are not fine. They are in such a mess that it feels almost too late for Ferguson to say anything of substance. Even so, it is tempting to wonder whether it would do some good, even if only to mollify the fans before the home matches against Aston Villa on Saturday and Bayern Munich in the Champions League quarter-final, first leg on Tuesday, if Ferguson were to allow an MUTV camera into his office, where he could remind the supporters of the grim times they endured together in his early days, how they always stuck by him and how United’s enemies are those outside the club, not inside.
There is nothing sinister behind Ferguson’s silence. It stems, apparently, from an unwillingness to undermine Moyes and feed the “media monster”. A personal view is that the media have, like United’s supporters inside the ground, been far more understanding than is normal in these unforgiving times — few shared Ferguson’s belief that Moyes had been left with a squad capable of sustaining “a decade of success” — but people are running out of reasons to believe.
United were never as impressive last term as their rivals’ shortcomings made them look, but they have regressed this season into a team without any kind of discernible identity or style. When Gary Neville, whose brother is on the coaching staff, and Paul Scholes sounded so aghast on Sky Sports at the performance against City, with Marouane Fellaini and Juan Mata so peripheral, it needs someone, other than poor Moyes, to explain why anyone should believe there is light at the end of the tunnel.
Ferguson could even shed some light on the appointment process. It was romanticised at the time but, in the light of what has happened since, that story of how Moyes, while in Manchester city centre to get his watch repaired, was asked to report to Ferguson’s house, where he was told the job was his, sounds like corporate negligence. Yes he then spoke to Joel Glazer, the co-chairman, and Ed Woodward, the executive vice-chairman, but the old pals’ act was already done, based, seemingly, on Moyes’s personal traits and his record with Everton rather than how he might approach the job.
Some accuse Ferguson of arrogance in appointing a manager he considered to be in his own image. A personal view is that, if anything, Ferguson was guilty of the opposite — underestimating how enormous a factor his mere presence had been and overestimating, on one hand, Moyes’s ability to keep things going and, on the other, the pedigree and mental fibre of some of the players.
The squad he left was far from his strongest, but if Ferguson’s faith in his players and in Moyes was misplaced, then it is no less innocent than the mistakes Sir Matt Busby made more than four decades ago in handing over an ageing squad to Wilf McGuinness and then Frank O’Farrell.
In 2014, though, Ferguson is being caught in the crossfire. As United capitulated on Tuesday night, the City supporters taunted him with “Fergie, Fergie, give us a wave”. He did not oblige. He is not waving, but his successor is drowning.