August 19, 2009, was destined to be a sleepless night for many Premier League managers.
In his mansion in Wilmslow, Ferguson sat drinking glass after glass of the Chilean wine that Gao Shen had given him. The more he drank, the more he felt it was damn near undrinkable, just like his mood at the moment.
But you could choose not to drink. You couldn't choose not to live. So, he had to swallow it, even if it was with tears.
Seated beside him were two people—his younger brother Martin Ferguson, a scout for Manchester United, and his youngest son Jason Ferguson, who worked as a football agent.
Family ties like this were common in European football, especially in the Premier League.
Allardyce's son was an agent, Redknapp's son was also an agent, and even former Arsenal chairman David Dein's son was involved in the business…
The infamous "bungs" scandal had exposed everything, but in the end, it didn't really change much.
Take 2004, for example. Ferguson had a major dispute with two of Manchester United's biggest shareholders over the Gibraltar Stallion case. In retaliation, they publicly revealed details of Ferguson and his son's dealings at United, including commissions from transfers—£1.5 million from Stam's move to Lazio, more from Verón's transfer…
After the fallout, Ferguson announced that his son would no longer be involved in United's transfer business. But reality? Nothing had really changed.
It was just the way things were. You had to get used to it.
"This kid is something else," Martin Ferguson sighed, shaking his head.
For city rivals like Manchester United, Manchester City becoming stronger was bad news.
"I've spoken to a lot of people. Many were already impressed with him after the first match. Now, after tonight, he's only going to get even more attention," Martin continued, sounding resigned.
Right now, Gao Shen was like a dragon crossing the sea, sharpened in Italy, now in the Premier League to claim his throne!
"Uncle, we've spent nearly €400 million in two years. We practically built a whole new team! If those Americans running United were willing to invest that kind of money, with my dad's ability, wouldn't we be dominating instead?" Jason Ferguson wasn't convinced.
"Besides, it's only the second round. There's still plenty of time!"
Martin Ferguson glanced at his nephew and sighed inwardly. He was still too young.
Over the years, Jason had coasted on the Ferguson name. People showed him respect because of his father. His career had been smooth, his success had come easily, and it had made him a little too self-assured.
"Two rounds or not, experts see the details, while the average fan only sees the excitement. Manchester City might be grabbing the headlines, but there's more to it than that," Martin said patiently.
"What do you mean? Like Andy Gray said, he switched from a 4-3-3 to a 4-4-2. Don't we at United also play 4-4-2 all the time?" Jason still wasn't convinced.
"That's exactly the point!" Ferguson suddenly interjected, his tone sharp.
Jason and Martin immediately stopped talking.
"He's used two different tactical systems in two league games. But knowing Gao Shen, he won't stop there. What's his goal? He's sending a message to the entire Premier League, he's here!"
Jason frowned. "Doesn't everyone already know that?"
The whole world knew Gao Shen was Manchester City's manager. What else needed to be said?
Ferguson looked at his youngest son and frowned. He had spoiled him too much. He hadn't learned much about football, but he certainly knew how to run his mouth.
"4-3-3 is his signature formation, and 4-2-3-1 made him famous. But in the second round, he didn't use either. Instead, he played 4-4-2, even using a diamond midfield. Whose system is that?"
Jason was silent.
"Ancelotti's Chelsea," Martin Ferguson answered.
"Gao Shen was making a statement to Ancelotti: Look, I can play your system too. Not only that, but I execute it better than you do. You should be learning from me!"
The moment Ferguson finished, Jason couldn't sit still. "Isn't that too arrogant?"
"How is it arrogant? He didn't say a word, his football did the talking. And I'll tell you this, his Manchester City did play better than Ancelotti's Chelsea. I wouldn't be surprised if that fat Italian is watching the match tape over and over, trying to figure out what he did wrong. Just wait and see—Ancelotti will probably make changes in the next round."
Jason had no response, though his face still showed his reluctance to fully accept it. Is he really that good? he thought to himself.
"Maybe next time, he'll use our 4-4-2. Then he might switch to Benítez's 4-2-3-1, or something else entirely. This kid is a real problem!" Ferguson said bitterly.
There was no doubt in his mind, Gao Shen had come to the Premier League because of Manchester City's financial backing.
Without that kind of investment, he probably wouldn't have come.
Hadn't the Spanish media said it before?
Gao Shen had rejected Real Madrid because they refused to listen to his input on transfers. He didn't want to go if he couldn't build his own squad.
Looking back, that made perfect sense.
After three years in Naples and Serie A, he was desperate to spread his wings.
"Actually, Jason has a point," Martin Ferguson said, throwing his nephew a lifeline. "Gao Shen has great ability, but he's also pushing things a bit far. And let's not forget, Manchester City has plenty of its own issues to deal with."
Ferguson looked at his brother, then at his son, and sighed inwardly. If only he had half, no, a third—or even just a fifth—of my ability, I wouldn't have to worry so much.
"You still don't get it. He's doing this for both personal and professional reasons."
"What do you mean?"
"From a professional standpoint, Manchester City needs to unite as a team. Gao Shen excels at managing the locker room. With City's massive investment and the Premier League's generally unfriendly stance toward them, he's using this outside pressure to bring the squad together."
"On a personal level, Gao Shen has his own ambitions as a manager. Do you really think he came to the Premier League just for the money Manchester City offered? That's too short-sighted!" Ferguson shook his head. "As far as I know, Gao Shen's annual commercial earnings are far higher than his salary at Manchester City. Do you think he cares about that?"
Martin and Jason exchanged surprised glances.
Was being a football manager really that profitable?
"Then why did he come to the Premier League…?"
"It's not just a challenge for himself, it's a challenge to the entire Premier League and every manager in it. He wants to take on the whole league!"
The moment Ferguson said this, Martin and Jason were stunned.
Wasn't that a bit much?
How was that even possible?
This was the Premier League, the most competitive league in the world, home to the best managers.
Sure, Gao Shen had won two Champions League titles, but Ferguson and Ancelotti had also won two each. Neither of them was inferior to him. Then there was Benítez, who had only won one but had reached the final twice. Gao Shen himself had admitted that his 4-2-3-1 setup at Real Madrid was inspired by Benítez's tactics.
And now, just because he was in the spotlight, he was going to challenge everyone?
"Sounds arrogant, doesn't it?" Ferguson asked in a deep voice.
Martin and Jason remained silent, unsure of what he was getting at.
"I'm telling you, if it were me—if I were 20 or 30 years younger—I'd do the same thing. Competitive sports are all about growing stronger by facing stronger opponents, constantly pushing yourself, constantly breaking your limits. If you're always hesitating, afraid of risks, how can you break through? How can you surpass your rivals?"
"Don't be fooled by Gao Shen's polite and humble demeanor. Deep down, he's proud—proud enough to want to crush every manager in the Premier League. That's how he plans to become the best in the world!"
Martin and Jason exchanged looks again, struggling to believe it. It sounded almost unbelievable.
"What should we do then?" Martin asked seriously.
"What else? He's come knocking on our door, so we fight back!" Ferguson declared, his tone firm.
"Young managers should be ambitious, but they also need to recognize whose territory they've entered. This is the Premier League, our league. No matter how strong he is, he's still just a newcomer here."
By the time Ferguson finished speaking, his temper had flared up as well.
Martin and Jason were taken aback.
It had been years since they'd seen Ferguson this fired up.
In the past, when Manchester United pulled off dramatic comebacks in the Champions League, FA Cup, and league, it was Ferguson's tenacity and drive that kept the team going.
But over time, things changed. The failures after signing Verón, Beckham's move to Spain, Mourinho's back-to-back titles with Chelsea—United eventually bounced back, but then Ronaldo left for Real Madrid. And as Ferguson aged, his hunger had seemed to fade as well.
But now, it was back!
…
Ferguson wasn't wrong at all.
In London, Ancelotti and his coaching staff sat at home rewatching Manchester City's demolition of Everton. The Italian manager was in shock.
They were using the same 4-4-2 diamond system, yet Manchester City's play was smoother, sharper, and far more aggressive.
More importantly, City didn't even have a striker like Drogba, yet their attack was still formidable.
The key? Their midfield.
"How's Joe Cole's recovery coming along?" Ancelotti asked, concerned.
Assistant coach Bruno Demichelis shook his head. "Still needs time."
Cole had suffered a serious cruciate ligament tear in an FA Cup clash against Southend United last winter. It had ruled him out for the entire season, and he had yet to return.
Chelsea had tried to sign Ribéry that summer, but Bayern Munich refused to let him leave. They also lost out to Juventus in the race for Diego. Meanwhile, they hesitated on deals for Valencia, Di María, and Sánchez—letting them all slip away.
Now, Ancelotti had no choice but to work with what he had.
Thankfully, Chelsea's match against Manchester City wasn't coming up immediately, so he still had time.
With that thought, Ancelotti smirked mischievously.
Poor Wenger… Moyes had his turn, now it's yours.
Hang in there, I'm rooting for you!
(To be continued.)