The deal

The moment I stepped off the plane, I knew I was in the right place. Signs, banners, scarves all around bearing the name of my team. I was looking. Looking around the airport. Looking for a plump little business man. His name was Mike Ashley.

I saw him on my fifth trip around the arrival hall. Dressed in a suit, half an hour late, he greeted me with a friendly wave.

“Morning,” he said.

“Thanks for the offer, Mr Ashley.”

“Nah, you were a good choice.”

These three sentences spurred me on with lots of confidence to meet the board. Together we left the airport, gotten into a shining English taxi, and left.

By the time we got to the club, it was almost sunset. This was it. Full of enthusiasm, I went into the conference room. The teams colours shone back at me from the walls. This was my breakthrough.

I proposed my plans to the board. We would bounce straight back up this season. We would get rid of the older, less useful players. We would bring in youngsters. We would get into Europe. Alan would be my right hand man. It would be great.

They loved it. Every single detail, every single comment, they loved it.

And I signed it. One little signature, and it’s here. The dream I’ve had since school. Finally.

Bring on Man United.

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