Hull City and win the FA Cup – their first trophy in nearly ten years. What do they do? Organise anopen-top bus tour! Manchester City win the league – they do an open-top bus tour!
In my 12 years at United it just wasn’t something we did. Like winning the league wasn’t that big a deal. Yeah, of course we won the league, we usually do, it’s normal. ‘But shouldn’t we have a parade?’
‘Nah, we’re not doing that again. It costs more than a hundred grand and we’re only going to have to do it all again next year.’
That seemed to be the club’s attitude. We really didn’t enjoy things the way we should have done. But we did keep winning.
I remember when we came back from winning the Champions League in Moscow there were just a couple of hundred people waiting at the airport. We got off the plane, had some pictures taken and then it was basically: ‘Cheers, see you later. See you in pre-season.’ And that was it! No open-top bus tour! If any other club just won the Premier League and the Champions League they’d at least hire a bus! Most other cities would close down and party for a day or two!
I only really started noticing the difference when other teams started doing it. Chelsea won the league, and I’m thinking, fucking hell, look how good that looks! I was jealous. Manchester City and Chelsea doing an open-top parade … How the fuck do they think they’re entitled to do that? These moments are special, things don’t last forever, and we should have done more of that.
But it was part and parcel of the winning state of mind Fergie created at the club. I remember Robin van Persie loving that. He told me that at Arsenal you
wanted
to win, but at United you
had
to win. It was a big difference. And it’s something I really loved too when I first arrived. It was great to feed off that United mentality because I’d always had some of that attitude myself butI’d never before been in a team capable of winning consistently. Sometimes people misread my state of mind on the pitch. I’ve never shown a lot of emotion – until we win. That’s when you see me explode with relief and joy and you see me screaming and pumping my fists. It’s not so much a feeling of satisfaction. It’s more like a feeling of relief … And then you move onto the next thing.
Growing up, my Mum and Dad ingrained their work ethic into me. Dad worked so hard; he’d work Saturday nights and Sundays and Mum worked all hours looking after other people’s kids. But I’m not sure where my idea of always wanting to be the
best
came from. It wasn’t just in football: in everything I did I wanted to be the best, and the best I could be. We used to race at school all the time and I’d notice there were people who were quick but would say ‘nah, I don’t want to race today.’ Looking back, I realise they didn’t really have a competitive edge; they were never going to be sports people. But if there was a race to be had, even if I thought I might not win, I’d always want to see if I could improve, get faster, get closer to the front. I used to run in my socks because I thought that was faster and my Mum would see the holes and say, ‘What’s going on? You’re wearing through your socks like there’s no tomorrow,’ and I was like ‘Yeah, Mum, but I’m getting
faster
.’ I always had that edge. And I always played football against kids older than me so I had to work harder.
I remember an incident at school when we played in the Metropolitan Police five-a-sides and our goalkeeper was shit. He wasn’t actually even our goalkeeper because our real goalkeeper hadn’t turned up, and this kid took his place and let in a crucial goal that meant we got beat in one of the group games. And I remember going crazy hammering him. ‘What’s wrong with you?’ I shouted, ‘You can’t even save a goal, you’re
rubbish
, I can’t believeit. Next time, put someone else in goal. If you can’t do it get out.’ He started