I GOT MY SHARE OF FERGIE'S FLAK

YOU never forget the first time you meet Sir Alex Ferguson.

For me, it was the moment I walked into a hotel room near the West Ham training ground and he was sitting there, suited and booted, cup of tea in hand, looking the picture of relaxed elegance.

His first words were: "Son, I want you to come and play for Manchester United."

The next hour was one of the most fantastic hours I've ever spent. He talked, I listened and by the end of it he could have stuck a contract under my nose for a penny a week and I would have signed.

There are some people in life who have an aura, a force of personality that is mesmerising. To sit and listen to a man I'd admired from afar, telling me he thought I could be the last piece in his Old Trafford jigsaw, was just compelling.

I'd been brought up without a father in a tough area and all I'd ever needed was a figure of authority to look up to and learn from.

My old boss at West Ham, John Lyall, provided that when I was a kid and when I left Upton Park, I know he phoned Fergie and said: "You've got a good kid there, but he needs to be looked after and kept on the straight and narrow."

I think Fergie understood because whenever I was being bollocked or having an arm put round me, it was more like a father than a boss. And, to be frank, I needed - and got - more than my fair share of Fergie's flak!

I arrived at Old Trafford as a cocky little so-and-so. Nobody but John had told me what to do and I thought I could do what I liked. Fergie put a stop to that. We went nose-to-nose so often it became a standing joke with the rest of the lads.

I remember a time when we were playing Norwich who were challenging near the top of the table. We were winning 3-0 with 10 minutes to go when I went on a little mazy run. Needless to say, I lost the ball, they went down the other end but didn't score.

Back in the dressing room, the boys were buzzing. Three-nil against one of our nearest rivals and, honestly, we cruised it.

Cue lots of laughter, jokes, congratulations, until you-know-who walked in.

From the moment he entered, there was only one thing on his mind - destroying me.

He went ballistic, called me all the names under the sun, asking me who the f*** I thought I was, hammering me into the ground. I was astonished, then I grew angrier and angrier and I started giving him some back, asking him what the f*** he was going on about and giving as good as I got.

There weren't any punches thrown but it was as close as I've been to wanting to lump a manager. We didn't talk to each other for three days.

He was fuming, I was sulking and we avoided each other at the training ground until the Friday before the next game when it was a head tennis competition. Fergie appointed himself umpire - and gave every bloody decision against me! The worst thing was, I couldn't call him on it because I wasn't talking to him!

At the end, he caught my eye and smiled. He then pulled me to one side, told me I'd been out of order against Norwich and pointed out that you treat every game properly until the final whistle blows.

You know what? The old sod was right, too. It's a lesson he taught me as a manager - never let players get away with anything because that's the one excuse they're looking for.

That's how he keeps United teams on their toes. There have been some fantastic sides over the years at OT but I still think that 92/93 team was the best, because of the way Fergie managed us.

Look at the characters in it - me, Keano, Bruce, Cantona, Robson, Schmeichel, Pallister - huge egos and all with an opinion, but unified under Fergie because he was in absolute control. Other managers would have crumbled, he thrived on getting us playing as one.

You'd see him come down out of his office at training, coat on, woolly hat pulled down to his eyes and suddenly the tempo leaps 50 per cent.

Not because we were scared of him but because we wanted to impress him. The word would go around, 'Oi, the old man's coming' and then, BANG!, we'd all be right on it.

He made us fearless. I see teams walking down the tunnel, shaking hands, smiling, having a laugh before a game. Not us. We'd stare straight ahead, not even look at the opposition and they'd be intimidated, just like Fergie wanted. We won more games in the tunnel than on the pitch.

I had my fallings out with him, though. I was playing golf with Ryan Giggs in 1995 when the phone rang. It was Fergie telling me he was at the clubhouse.

I walked in and before I could say anything, he said: "We've accepted an offer from Inter Milan, you're off. I've got Nicky Butt coming through and I want to give him a chance." That was it, my United career was over.

I was stunned, not to mention gutted, and it was difficult to forgive him even though I did have a great time in Italy and it made me a better player.

Then when I came back to England with Liverpool, he called me a 'Big-time Charlie' in the papers and that really hurt me. I had the scars to show how much I'd given for United and to tar me with that brush was unforgiveable. It also meant I had to take crap from United fans which also hurt.

Perhaps he realised he'd gone too far because he rang and apologised and we've put it all behind us.

When I got my first job at Macclesfield, he rang to welcome me to the madhouse and since then we've been close.

I cherish his advice and love it when we can talk football. John Lyall has sadly passed away and I'm left with just the one father figure now - Sir Alex Ferguson.

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