"Look at you. You're a world-class coach with four Champions League titles, yet you play so poorly. Aren't you ashamed?"
"What kind of team is Real Madrid? It's an aristocratic team that pursues splendor, nobility, and elegance."
"But you? You've turned Real Madrid into a peasant team. I really feel sorry for the Real Madrid fans."
After the match, in a small conference room at Old Trafford, Ferguson downed two glasses of wine in one go. He complained endlessly, yet still could not vent the frustration in his heart.
The last Champions League match of his career had been lost to this brat. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became.
Sitting opposite him, Gao Shen watched with a playful smile, sipping from the bottle of water he had brought with him.
He had already guessed the old man would be stingy and not even prepare water for him, so he came prepared with two bottles.
Facts had proven: if you do it yourself, you'll never go thirsty.
Self-reliance has never failed me.
"Sir, don't worry about whether Real Madrid fans are sad or not. You should worry more about your own Manchester United," Gao Shen replied cheerfully.
"Did I say something wrong?"
"That's right. I remember you used to shout about playing attacking football at United. But how did you shrink back like that at the start of the first half? And don't forget, we had more possession, more shots, and more dangerous chances than you…"
So tell me, which of us was more conservative?
"I'm talking about the last 20 minutes."
Gao Shen let out an "oh" as if he suddenly understood, then wore an expression that said he didn't care to argue further.
It was Ferguson's turf anyway. He could have the last word.
Gao Shen just wanted to leave in peace.
"Alright, let's put the game aside and talk about you and me," Ferguson waved his hand, speaking more animatedly.
"I've got more experience than you, right? You said you decided to coach after reading my autobiography. I believed you. But look at what happened? You've already won four Champions Leagues, and now I'm about to retire. Can't you at least be polite?"
Gao Shen looked resentful.
Damn, what else can we even talk about besides football?
"Sir, weren't those just flattering words I used back then to get closer to you, when I was a nobody without influence?" Gao Shen said with exaggerated surprise. "You actually believed them?"
…
Both of them were half-joking.
Ferguson just wanted to give Gao Shen a jab and recover some dignity. Gao Shen refused to yield at first, showing his sharp tongue, but soon "surrendered" tactfully by sending him two more cases of good wine.
He even promised that after Ferguson retired, he would still send him wine every year during the holidays.
"I heard you and Zidane bought a winery in Bordeaux."
"You even know about that?"
Ferguson chuckled with a hint of pride. Little brat, how big do you think our circle is?
There's no way I wouldn't know about something like this.
"A friend of Zidane's. We thought it was a good fit, so we each invested a little. The plan is to supply the Chinese market exclusively."
Ferguson's eyes lit up instantly.
The Chinese market was a huge piece of fat meat.
With a population over a billion, how much wine did they drink every year?
There was nothing wrong with Gao Shen teaming up with Zidane. After all, Gao Shen's company back home was thriving.
In 2012, they even bought a large plot of land in western China to build a winery that combined vineyards, production, sightseeing, and a hotel. It was a massive investment.
As for the Bordeaux winery with Zidane, that was Gao Shen's personal investment.
The old knight was clearly tempted by the thought of the Chinese market, immediately bringing it up and saying he wanted a slice for his retirement fund.
Gao Shen agreed readily, saying he would help however he could.
…
"Honestly, sometimes I feel like telling the research institutes at Cambridge and Oxford to capture you and dissect your brain, just to see what makes it different from ours."
Ferguson suddenly looked at Gao Shen with emotion.
"What do you mean?" Gao Shen asked curiously.
"Varane is outstanding, Carvajal too. Casemiro as well. And then look at Leeds United…"
He trailed off and sighed, then said something that made Gao Shen's heart skip a beat.
"I really want to buy Leeds United outright."
"What do you mean?"
"The players. That group of players is really good. Many are exactly what we need at United."
Ferguson had already taken Schneiderlin from Leeds, and he had been excellent.
United's standard setup now was Carrick sitting deep and Schneiderlin pushing forward, which gave them a solid base in the Premier League.
But Carrick was aging, and a successor was needed. Jorginho was performing very well.
In midfield, Pogba had maintained a high level for two straight seasons, improving visibly.
At the back, Vidic and Ferdinand were both getting old. Koulibaly's physical strength was enviable, and his passing ability even more impressive.
Compared to Salah and Coutinho, who were attracting many clubs, Ferguson was more interested in young substitute Zaha.
His tastes were always unique.
Before, it was Bolasie. Now, it was Zaha. He had a soft spot for pure wingers.
"I've already submitted a proposal to Ed Woodward. We want to bring Pogba back," Ferguson said.
Even though he was retiring soon, he wanted to leave a legacy.
Carrick could last two more years, Schneiderlin was young, and with Pogba back, the midfield would be set for years.
"That's fine. Just talk to Fernando Lucas when the time comes," Gao Shen answered directly.
Ferguson studied him for a while, then shook his head and sighed.
"I regret not signing a buy-back clause for Pogba. I really lost out."
"You can't put it like that, Sir. We've invested huge resources into Pogba over the past few years. What you see is his progress, but what you don't see is our investment."
"In fact, we sell players at a fair, near-cost price."
Ferguson burst out laughing and nearly spat his wine. "A fair price?"
Gao Shen nodded seriously.
"So where did the money for that new training base you're building come from?"
Before Gao Shen could reply, Ferguson went on, "I heard it's a £70 million investment! My God, apart from Manchester City, who else spends like you?"
"Tottenham just built a base too, £45 million," Gao Shen protested.
"That's different," he added quickly. "We have dedicated pitches for the youth teams, plus facilities Spurs don't have. We even have our own logistics department…"
"Right, right. And they didn't hire Norman Foster to design theirs, did they?"
Just the design fees alone put Leeds far beyond Tottenham.
But it had to be said, the result was excellent.
When Foster's design was unveiled, it caused a sensation among media, fans, and architects worldwide. Before construction had even begun, many declared it the most artistic and advanced training base ever.
But £70 million scared off most clubs.
Many said Leeds were being reckless, that the money would be better spent on transfers.
But looking at the Premier League table, Leeds were sixth. That didn't look so bad.
"Honestly, I didn't expect Leeds to last this long," Ferguson admitted.
Many dark horses started strong, then collapsed in the second half of the season.
But Leeds had held sixth, even improving. Some players' progress was obvious.
"Are you planning to expand Elland Road?" Ferguson asked curiously.
There had been rumors in the media, but Leeds had not responded. The uncertainty about the future made it difficult.
For example, they had done well this season, but soon they would face contract renewals and wage increases.
In recent years, wages across European football had soared, along with player valuations.
Russian tycoon Rybolovlev had just bought Monaco and was threatening to splash money in the transfer market.
The trend across Europe was rising wages and transfer fees. It could no longer be contained.
As one of the clubs most affected, Leeds had to find a balance: maintain competitiveness while controlling wages. A difficult task.
If Gao Shen had to choose, he would always prioritize the wage structure.
Even if performance dipped, they could recover slowly as long as they stayed in the league.
But once the wage structure collapsed, it would be a disaster for any club.
Although he had plans, Gao Shen kept them to himself.
"What's the point of expanding? You know me. That's not my style."
Ferguson froze. "You mean…"
"I plan to build a brand-new stadium. Capacity at least 60,000. Once completed, it will be the best football stadium in the world, maybe in all of sport."
Ferguson burst into laughter. "Did you drink too much?"
"To build a stadium of that size would cost at least £300 million at the bare minimum. If you want the best stadium in the world, it's £500 million or more. And you definitely don't have that."
After a pause, he reminded, "And that's in pounds."
"With Leeds' revenue, even if you sold the whole squad, you couldn't raise that much. And no bank would dare lend it to you."
Leeds' foundations were still too weak.
"So, just go to bed. Dreams can be as big as you want."
Gao Shen laughed too. "It's good to dream. What if it comes true?"
"Then take it step by step. There's still a long road ahead."
Ferguson regained some composure.
Gao Shen's dream was beautiful, but reality was harsh.
In Ferguson's view, Leeds would not see a new stadium for at least ten years.
(To be continued.)
***
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