Alex Ferguson's stance poses questions about Wayne Rooney's attitude
There are still times in his 24 years as Manchester United manager when Sir Alex Ferguson peels his jacket off for a fight. Challenged the way he has been by Wayne Rooney and his camp, he reverts to survival mode. In his thoughts he returns to the streets of Govan.
This conflict was not one he invited. But such has been the level of provocation from his rebellious star that Ferguson was forced to go on the counter to protect his own standing with the club's owners and supporters. His dissection of Rooney's mutinous conduct was about as good as daytime television is ever likely to get.
Some detected a wounded air about Ferguson at a riveting press briefing in Manchester. Some thought he seemed sad – beaten, even – as if an ungrateful 24-year-old had shattered his beliefs about what a Manchester United player should be, and how he ought to behave. The word is that any sorrow Ferguson displayed stems from his conviction that he had helped and protected his star through many a personal convulsion and red card brouhaha and was now being repaid with a kind of contempt.
But equally he was in snorting political form. The alternative strategy would have been to excoriate the first journalist bold enough to ask what was going on. Instead he came armed with a speech that nailed several damaging myths and cast Rooney as a mercenary with no regard for United's health.
This was a veteran problem solver retaking control of a power struggle that had run away from him and his employer. There was disappointment, censure, bafflement, a restatement of club ethics and a nasty problem for Rooney now to solve. How can he escape the suggestion of unprofessionalism? His whole career has been constructed around the idea that here was a street warrior who would never stop running, never stop loving the game, never let you down.
When Cristiano Ronaldo declared his intention to move from United to Real Madrid, a deal was struck that was honoured by both sides. United would sell him to Spain, a year from the date of the agreement, provided he went on toiling for the good of the collective.
This was the hope Ferguson carried into this campaign, when Rooney announced – in August, we now learn – he would not be renewing the contract that expires in the summer of 2012. "Not renewing" is actually too prissy a phrase. By backing out of the contract negotiations, Rooney was forcing United to sell him before his transfer value plunged: by next summer at the latest, but more logically in January.
Even then a fragile peace prevailed. Ferguson had every reason to expect another gut-busting shift from the PFA and Football Writers' Association footballer of the year for 2009-2010. Instead: crisis and distraction. In large measure Rooney has served up only sulks and apathy: a haunting realisation for those United supporters who chanted for him to be brought on against West Bromwich Albion at the weekend.
The truth jumped out like a scalded cat when Ferguson addressed the microphone on the eve of the team's Champions League tie against Bursaspor at Old Trafford. In this last decade, especially, the United manager has managed seismic change. The longevity of Paul Scholes, Ryan Giggs and Gary Neville only accentuates the contrast between the homegrown heroes from the 90s and today's self-absorbed nomads.
"Just remember one thing: respect this club. I don't want any nonsense from you, respect your club," Ferguson told Rooney when divorce was mooted. This is the killer line: the statement of ancient managerial principle on which the whole saga turned.
Ferguson was evidently asking the refusenik to be sensitive to the needs of the club that had elevated him to football's biggest stage. A fair exchange was in place. Instead: the treachery of the Wembley mixed zone, where Rooney contradicted Ferguson's claim that he had been carrying an ankle injury prior to the England- Montenegro game.
Observe the new Roy Keane, come and walk round him, he is colossally egocentric. When the great Keano persuaded himself he was the new manager and challenged Ferguson's authority once too often, the real boss moved with brutal clarity. The same values were visible back then. Keane was expelled, purged, for moving against the leader, and the club responded by constructing the second Champions League winning side of the Ferguson era.
"We've done everything we can for Wayne Rooney since the minute he came to the club," Ferguson told MUTV, turning another screw. "We've always been there as a harbour for him." There is a subtext here: 'I trusted this lad. I thought we had a deal. Buy him if you like. But good luck if you do.'
Ronaldo's exit was smoothly managed in the end, and mutual admiration endures. Rooney finds himself on a different road out of Old Trafford. On the way, he compromised Ferguson's standing with the Stretford End and chipped away at his authority until a whirlwind blew. "This is a club which bases all its history and its tradition on the loyalty and trust between managers and players and the club," the manager said. Implication: Rooney knows nothing of these things, and the loss, ultimately, is his, because United will prosper without him.
Reliable sources say there will be big-name replacements by the summer. Today's press conference was the first step to another reconstruction.