DULL AND DOUR?

Sir Alex Ferguson could start a fight in an empty house, but he could
also start a party in one. Such a combative creature as Manchester
United's unique manager is a highly sociable animal, so please don't
believe the Scot's current caricaturing as a boorish dinosaur given to
hectoring all and sundry. A vibrant human being exists behind the
unflattering headlines stirred up by David Beckham's book and the
summons by Football Association beaks for trash-talking officials.

If the Premiership managers ever held a Christmas bash, Ferguson would
be holding court in the middle, clutching a glass of Chablis Grand Cru,
regaling admiring colleagues with rich anecdotes while Arsenal's
sun-king, Arsene Wenger, sits quietly in the corner watching videos of
French reserve matches.

Ferguson can converse about anything from wine to racing to politics,
let alone football. An ambassador for Unicef, he packs more into a year
than most achieve in a life-time.

Ferguson is revered within the game and misunderstood by most of those
outside. We were once talking about Kenny Dalglish and I ventured the
observation that the shy Scotland legend didn't seem to have many close
friends. "You only need four friends to carry your coffin," Ferguson
responded.

For Ferguson touches many lives, leaving people grateful to have met
this fascinating, driven, infuriating, multi-faceted lover of life.

Ferguson has guaranteed himself many critics but when one of our colleagues was lying stricken in a coronary ward, Ferguson offered to pay for the operation.

On hearing of the Hillsborough disaster, Ferguson immediately picked up
the phone to Dalglish, the then Liverpool manager, offering any help.

Countless managers seek out his advice.

So let us pause amid the flying accusations and remember what good
Ferguson does, the beauty of his teams, the service he has given to the
game. England would have a more monochrome landscape without Ferguson.