The Second Half (8 page)

We’d been talking for quite a while by now, maybe an hour. So I went up to the manager’s office to tell him why we weren’t outside training.

He said, ‘Well, I’m coming down.’

I knew from his reaction that he wasn’t happy.

I went back down ahead of him, and I said to the lads, ‘I’m not sure this was such a good idea.’

He stormed in and said, ‘What’s this all about?’, and he asked me if I was going to apologise.

I said, ‘Well, I’ve got nothing to apologise about.’

‘What about the video?’

And I said, ‘I think the video’s fine.’

And he went, ‘I’ll tell you what. Up fuckin’ stairs now, into my office. Everyone. Let’s go and watch that fuckin’ video.’

So I’m walking up the stairs – we’re all walking up in our training kit, like a load of kids being called to the headmaster.
I’m walking up and I’m thinking, ‘Here goes.’ Because I’m still not 100 per cent sure what I’d said.

We watched the video, some lads standing, some sitting down. More than twenty international footballers. Scattered around this massive office. This was only a couple of years after Saipan. Talk about
déjà vu
; I’d been down this road before. I was getting used to it.

We watched, and I was still thinking, ‘I could be the one in for the shock here. “Oh, by the way, lads, I forgot to mention that downstairs.” ’

But it ended, and I was very relieved because it tallied with what I’d told the players. There were no shocks or contradictions. Thank God.

So I went, ‘Look, lads. Have any of you got a problem?’

They were all, ‘No, no, no.’

I said, ‘Fletch?’ – to Darren Fletcher.

I’d said something about my wife tackling better than him, for one of the goals. But I could tell from his expression that he was fine with it; Fletch knew my form. The mood was still good between me and the players.

But Carlos and the manager were in the background, steam coming out their ears.

I said, ‘Lads, I told you what I said. But we got beaten 4–1, you know.’

And they were all – every player – ‘No, we’re okay with it; yeah, we’re comfortable enough with it.’

But the manager went, ‘No, it’s a disgrace – this fuckin’ video!’

I said, ‘None of the players have got a problem with it.’

With that, van der Sar, who’d been at the club a few months, put his hand up and said, ‘Do you know, Roy, I just think you could’ve used a different tone.’

Edwin. Dutch international – six million caps.

So I said, ‘Edwin, why don’t you shut the fuck up? You’ve been at this club two minutes and you’ve done more interviews than I’ve done in my twelve years. It was MUTV – I had to do it.’

So he took that; he accepted it.

But then Carlos turned and said, ‘You’ve not shown any loyalty to your team-mates.’

He was just on my right shoulder; how I didn’t fuckin’ hit him again— I was thinking, ‘The villa in Portugal, not treating me well in training – and he just used the word “loyalty” to me.’

I said, ‘Don’t you talk to me about loyalty. Don’t you fuckin’ talk to me about loyalty, Carlos. You left this club after twelve months a few years ago for the Real Madrid job. Don’t you dare question my loyalty. I had opportunities to go to Juventus and Bayern Munich. So don’t you question me about loyalty. And, while we’re at it, we spoke about training downstairs. And we were just on about mixing things up in training a bit.’

And he went, ‘No, Roy, we need repetition – that’s what we need. Repetition.’

And I said, ‘Carlos, do you always make love to your wife in the same position?’

And I think he went, ‘What – where is this going?’

I said, ‘You change the position, don’t you? Sometimes you have to mix training up a little bit. That’s all I’m saying. That’s coming from all the players. It’s not a personal thing.’

I haven’t a clue why I said that – and still don’t.

But the manager went, ‘That’s enough of that. I’ve had enough of all this stuff.’

And I said, ‘You as well, gaffer. We need fuckin’ more from you.’

And I mentioned the horse deal as well. I can’t justify everything I said that morning; I was just annoyed. The manager had wanted to get us involved in a syndicate, to buy a horse with him.
This was a few years before. He’d taken us up to some stables, on the way to Catterick, I think. We were all to put money into the syndicate – out of the players’ pool. We used to earn extra money for MUTV appearances and other media work, and we’d put it into the pool. Christmas dos, trips to the horse racing – they were paid for from the pool. It was like a kitty, but a pretty big one. The whole thing had annoyed me at the time, that we would have put money into this syndicate but would only have got one-sixteenth between us. As it was, we never got involved in it.

I said to the gaffer, ‘You wanted us to go into that syndicate years ago, and we’d only have got one-sixteenth. What was that all about?’

When I go off like that, when I let loose, I’m in the zone; it’s like I’m somebody else. It was almost a relief – some sort of freedom. Consequences were the last thing on my mind. I wasn’t a Manchester United player now, or a professional footballer. I was a human being, fighting my corner. Not one player interrupted, or tried to take the heat out of it. Maybe because they’d seen how I’d responded to Edwin. They were all in quiet shock, I think; they felt they shouldn’t have been in the room – like we were neighbours arguing and they were looking over the wall at us, going, ‘Next door are at it again.’ It was unfortunate for them.

I said to the manager, ‘We need a bit more, gaffer. We’re slipping behind other teams.’

And he said, ‘I’ve had enough of that’, and I think he said, ‘Shut up’ – something like that.

I said, ‘Well, I’ve had enough of this meeting anyway. I’m fucking off. I’m going out to train.’

And I left the office. I went down the stairs. I turned around, and I saw Mikaël Silvestre coming out, but he didn’t follow me. Ole has since told me that when I left the room, the manager said, ‘Well, what about that?’

According to Ole, Rio agreed with me, that they’d played poorly at Middlesbrough. All the players started talking, and Ole and Paul Scholes said they were leaving because they didn’t want to talk about me when I wasn’t there. I love that – that they showed me that bit of loyalty. When Ole got up to leave, he was told by the manager, ‘Don’t you follow him’ – in no uncertain terms.

According to Ole, Carlos called him into his office the next morning and told him to apologise to the manager for leaving the room, or he’d be sacked.

I went out to training and eventually the rest of the players came down.

It was Saipan Mark 2. A heated discussion – nothing unusual in sport, and what should have been a private conversation – all out of control. There was probably no going back.

I was beginning to feel like a dead man walking.

I trained for a few days. Neither the manager nor Carlos was speaking to me. I was due to play in a reserve match, at home to West Brom, as part of my return from injury, and I was preparing for that.

In the meantime, the club had sent me a letter; they were fining me £5,000 for my MUTV interview. And I appealed it; I spoke to my solicitor, Michael Kennedy, and I asked him to write a letter back. I’d been fined before, and I’d never appealed. I just felt this time it was wrong. But I think that annoyed the manager. I think he thought I’d go, ‘Okay, I’ll take my five grand and we’ll move on.’

The team sheet for the West Brom game went up but my name wasn’t on it. I spoke to Rob Swire, the head physio, and I asked him, ‘Why amn’t I in the team for the reserve match?’

‘Oh, the manager doesn’t want you playing.’

So I went, ‘— all right.’

I went up to his office and I banged away at the door, and he went, ‘Come in.’

What I loved more than anything else – and the manager would have known this – was playing. By not letting me play in the reserve match he was preventing my recovery. The atmosphere in the room wasn’t good.

I said, ‘I’m supposed to be playing in the reserves. My recovery, you know.’

And he said, ‘No, you’d better speak to Michael Kennedy.’

It was Dave O’Leary who had put me in touch with Michael Kennedy when I was on my way to United, back in 1993. Michael did that first deal with United, and every other deal for me, in and out of football, for more than fifteen years.

‘— oh,’ I said, ‘— all right.’

I went down and got into my car and I rang Michael.

And he went, ‘Yeah, I’ve just had a call. They want me up on Friday.’

I said, ‘They’re going to try and get rid of me.’

‘But—’

‘They’re trying to fine me.’

‘Yes, but that’s not grounds for you moving on.’

‘— anyway— We’ll see.’

I met Michael at Manchester Airport on the Friday morning. It was 18 November.

He went, ‘What’s all this about, Roy?’

I just knew they were going to tell me it was time to move on. I was ready for it – but not prepared.

We drove to the training ground for the meeting, at about nine o’clock. The manager was there, in his office. David Gill, the chief executive, was there, too. I hadn’t been expecting him.

I went, ‘So, what’s up?’

And the manager said, ‘Look, Roy, I think we’ve come to the end.’

As simple as that.

And Michael was going, ‘What?! What’s this? I thought this was just about the fine!’

Michael is a very good mediator, and negotiator; they would be Michael’s strengths. He has negotiated with top teams in Italy, and with Real Madrid. He has vast experience. If I had done anything really bad, I’d have been fined two weeks’ wages, or even sacked. But a £5,000 fine was, in the bigger scale of things, nothing. So, from a £5,000 fine to what the manager had just said – Michael was nearly falling off his chair.

But I said to the manager, ‘All right. Yeah, yeah. I agree with you.’

Then David Gill said, ‘And while we’re at it, we’ve prepared a statement.’

They had it all ready. It was another little hand grenade they threw at me. Not an hour later, or two hours, or after the severance negotiations – it was already written.

Usually, I’d guess, a player in my position would have been advised to say, ‘All right, I’ll go. How much will you give me?’ I’ll fight my corner for money, but it wasn’t the first thing that sprang to mind now. I could easily have said to Michael, ‘If Manchester United want me to go today, they fuckin’ have to pay me.’ My reputation was ruined; it was going to be in shreds. But I wasn’t thinking about my reputation, or the PR side of things. I just thought, ‘Yeah, he’s right. It’s over.’

David Gill had a copy of the statement, and Michael leaned across and took it. We were both reading it when David Gill said, ‘By the way, Roy, you’re also injured.’

And I went, ‘David, I broke my foot. My foot – it’s broken from playing for Man United.’

I suppose the thinking was, ‘Let’s try to get him out as quick as we can. Let’s not drag this out till next week.’ This was Manchester United, one of the biggest media companies in the world. They spent a fortune on the image. And I was reading, ‘We’d like to thank Roy for his eleven and a half years at the club.’

But I’d been there twelve and a half years. And now I was thinking, ‘The game is up – no problem with that. But fuckin’ do it properly.’

I went, ‘You’ve got eleven and a half years there.’

The two of them were looking at each other.

And I said, ‘I’ve been here twelve and a half.’

‘Oh, is it twelve and a half, Roy? Oh, I wasn’t sure— Was it ’93 you came in? I can’t remember.’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘The first year we won the Double.’

And David Gill said, ‘Oh, right, we’ll fix that.’

Michael was going, ‘I need to discuss this with my client.’

David Gill said, ‘Do you want five minutes together?’

And we said, ‘All right.’

So they went out, the manager and David Gill, and left us alone.

I said, ‘Come on, Michael, I’ve had enough of them – fuck’m. We’ve lost respect for each other.’

But Michael was going, ‘What—? What are you talking about? I can’t believe it. The contract— Your family—’

He was emotional about it; he was upset. Also, I was his client, and he was probably thinking, ‘This isn’t right, this isn’t fair.’

They came back in, and David Gill asked, ‘Is that enough time?’

I said, ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah, I think you’re right. We’ve come to the end. But I’m not sure about— Where do I stand on my contract? Can I play for another club straightaway?’

That was what I meant about being ready for this, but not
prepared. It was the worst thing I’d done – or not done. I’d known for a few days that they were going to try and get rid of me. I could have rung the PFA – the Professional Footballers’ Association – and got legal advice. What were the consequences if my contract was ended? There was the transfer window, in January. This was November. Could I sign for another team, immediately, outside the transfer window? And if I signed, would I be allowed to play immediately? For all my experience and for all the good advice I’d given to people over the years, I hadn’t taken heed of it myself.

I said to Ferguson, ‘Can I play for somebody else?’

And he said, ‘Yeah, you can. ’Cos we’re tearing up your contract.’

The secretary’s office was just across the corridor, and I thought – for just a second, ‘Before we shake hands on anything, or before I walk out or storm out, I’ll go across to find out where I stand contractually.’

But it had gone too far. Deep down, I didn’t give a shit.

So I thought, ‘All right— I’ll get fixed up.’

I knew there’d be clubs in for me when the news got out.

I said, ‘Yeah – I think we
have
come to the end.’

Michael still couldn’t believe it.

I just thought, ‘Fuckin’ pricks—’ and I stood up and went, ‘Yeah. I’m off.’

I left Michael to it. I’d gone in there at about nine o’clock; I think I was in my car by a quarter to ten. Maybe it was my way of coping, getting out as quickly as I could. Was it a childish way of coping? Was it my ‘I’d better get out of here before I fuckin’ kill somebody’ way of coping? I don’t know. I didn’t want to see the players – they’d all have been coming in by then. I didn’t want to be saying my goodbyes.