Debate: is Benitez a genius or too clever by half?

It was during one of those familiar moments at this time of year, the mid-afternoon doze on the sofa, that Sir Alex Ferguson received the rude awakening that changed the course of recent football history.

In the final days of 2001, a day or two short of his 60th birthday, Ferguson awoke to find his wife, Lady Cathy, standing above him, hands on hips, with their sons ready to back her up. “You,” she said, giving him a shove. “You’re not retiring. We’ve decided.”

This heartwarming tale comes to mind whenever Ferguson reaches a milestone, whether it is a birthday – he turns 67 on Wednesday – or the recent 22nd anniversary of his appointment at Manchester United. One of these days, most probably behind closed doors at his Wilmslow home, Ferguson, with perhaps a little nudge from Lady Cathy, will reach the conclusion that he is, after all, the retiring type.

He has always maintained that he will not “do a Bobby Robson” and continue to manage beyond his 70th birthday, so that historic moment cannot be far away. Lady Cathy, after all, may be itching for the cruise she denied herself in 2002.

The disturbing thing for United is that Ferguson has begun to talk about retirement again. It is not a subject he likes to dwell on, but, whereas once queries met with a fierce glare and a robust defence of his health, these days he freely admits that the time is coming.

In May, two days after the mentally exhausting Champions League final triumph against Chelsea, he said that it would be “three years at the very, very most”. Those close to him do not dare to second-guess him, but they suggest that it is just as likely to be the end of this season as in 2011. Most educated pundits would predict the end of next season, but he could feasibly decide to go at the end of this campaign. Whichever way, the clock is ticking.

It is a terrifying thought for the United hierarchy. There was a time around three years ago, shortly after the Glazer takeover, when replacing Ferguson seemed less a daunting challenge than one of those irksome jobs, like fixing the guttering, that would have to be addressed sooner rather than later.

There were a few potential candidates around to succeed him at the time, such as Fabio Capello and Guus Hiddink, not to mention José Mourinho and Arsène Wenger if they could be tempted, but perhaps that was merely because Ferguson’s stock had fallen. Three years, two Premier League titles and a European Cup later, finding a man to follow Ferguson is a task to rival that of arresting the economic downturn.

David Gill, the chief executive, is known to like the idea of a British successor to Ferguson, ideally someone with an historical link to the club, but Mark Hughes, the best of the Old Trafford alumni, has taken on a different challenge, at Manchester City, while Roy Keane, Paul Ince, Steve Bruce and others have not measured up to the required standard.

But who does measure up? Martin O’Neill would have his supporters, having performed admirably at Aston Villa (albeit with greater financial backing than anyone cares to mention), but would be far from a shoo-in. Mourinho’s track record almost guarantees success, but his methods fly in the face of United’s cavalier traditions, as laid out by Ferguson and by Sir Matt Busby long before him. Josep Guardiola is making a strong impression in his first season at Barcelona, but this is merely a coaching role, in which he is ably assisted by a strong director of football, Txiki Beguiristain.

Unless a complete overhaul of United’s coaching structure was planned, a novice such as Guardiola could not be considered.

Do you know whose name keeps coming to mind? Capello’s. At 62 he is no spring chicken, but, crucially, he has the experience, having had two spells in charge of both AC Milan and Real Madrid, and is a proven winner. There will be those who would deny that United would dare to poach the England manager, but Sven-Göran Eriksson had been lined up to succeed Ferguson in 2002.

Others will say that Capello would not be interested, that the England job trumps everything. But whatever the prestige of the England post, which has been held in recent years by such luminaries as Graham Taylor, Kevin Keegan and Steve McClaren, the challenge of following in Ferguson’s footsteps would be far, far bigger.

Perhaps it would be too big for Capello. Perhaps he would be reluctant to break his contract with the FA. Perhaps, at his age, he prefers the gentler pace of international football (although even Eriksson, hardly a workaholic, missed the day-to-day involvement of the club game).

But he would be the stand-out candidate when the dreaded moment comes that Ferguson and, of course, his good lady wife, decide to call it a day.

And another thing...

Ashley shows true colours

In a league in which crass foreign owners abound, at least Mike Ashley offers a constant reminder that suitability is not merely a question of nationality. His announcement yesterday that Newcastle United are no longer for sale was merely the logical follow-up to his statement in September, when he put the club on the market at the absurd price of £481 million, which dropped to £250 million. The latest development owes nothing to Ashley’s devotion to the club and everything to a financial climate in which he was unable to find a buyer. He made great play yesterday of his insistence that “any potential buyer would have to show they had the best interests of Newcastle United at heart and had both the commitment and finance to be worthy custodians of such a fine football club before I would even consider doing a deal”. Pity the previous owners were not so picky.

The wonder of BenÍtez

Four-and-a-half years after his appointment as Liverpool manager, there are aspects of Rafael BenÍtez’s managerial style that remain a mystery. His approach to man-management was reflected yesterday by his decision to leave out Robbie Keane against Newcastle United, the second time that the forward, struggling for confidence, has scored twice in a match, only to be dropped for the next game. But to criticise his methods is to question the very foundations of his regime. His unconventional approach has enabled a technically limited Liverpool team to surge ahead of Chelsea and Manchester United in the Premier League this season and to punch above their weight in the Champions League on a consistent basis. Whatever your thoughts on his methods, from zonal marking to incessant rotation, from a curious transfer policy to treating his players like pawns, he remains his club’s best hope of winning a first league title since 1990.

Reality bites for Pennant

There has been disbelief in certain quarters at Jermaine Pennant’s decision to reject, or at the very least to jeopardise, a proposed transfer to Real Madrid because they were not offering him enough money. In one sense it was the opportunity of a lifetime for the winger, who is not so much out of favour as a pariah at Liverpool these days, but what, truly, was the appeal of moving to Real as an underpaid squad player? They are a club who remain deeply unstable, so much so that Juande Ramos, their latest coach, is working on a six-month contract.

Unless you fancy yourself as the next galáctico, the Bernabéu is not the promised land. Pennant would have gone there, sat on the bench and been back home within 12 months, possibly fewer.

He is not renowned as the brightest footballer around, but, even if his reasoning was financial, resisting the glamour of Madrid in favour of regular football – albeit at Blackburn Rovers, Wigan Athletic or a club of that ilk – may not be as mad as it appears.

Things can only get better

In a commendable effort to fill some of the empty seats that have been all too visible at Goodison Park this season, Everton are offering half-season tickets with the slogan “half the season, all the action”. The advertisement on the club’s website assures us that “the second half of the football season is when it gets exciting”. David Moyes will certainly hope so, given that his team’s first ten home matches in all competitions this term yielded a solitary victory.

Let’s hear it for 2009 . . .

A year ago, in this column, I ventured some predictions for 2008. Looking back, they were not too wide of the mark. 1) Sir David Beckham’s 100th England cap to be his last. 2) Arsène Wenger to claim a hollow moral victory on Arsenal’s behalf as Sir Alex Ferguson leads Manchester United to their tenth Premier League title in 16 seasons. 3) Cristiano Ronaldo to have his head turned by Real Madrid again. 4) Rafael BenÍtez to be dumped by Liverpool unless the club’s American owners bale out first. 5) Everton and Tottenham Hotspur to win a trophy apiece. 6) England players to preface every comment about Fabio Capello with “no disrespect to Steve McClaren, but . . .” 7) McClaren to return to management at club level and, having ditched the umbrella, to do a very decent job.

Not as embarrassing as it might have been, with only the survival instincts of Beckham and BenÍtez, along with Everton’s loss of nerve in the Uefa Cup quarter-final, proving me wrong, so I will dare to offer a few updates for 2009: the end of Beckham’s international career (surely this time); more of the same shenanigans with Ronaldo, below, and Real; more of the same hollow moral victories for Wenger; another trophy, along with a relegation battle, for Tottenham; Liverpool to wave goodbye to Statler and Waldorf and to go right to the wire in the title race; McClaren to continue his rehabilitation with Twente before returning to the Premier League in 2010.