It was a weekend in which scenes of unbridled joy erupted as great silver trophies, reflecting the fruits of punishing seasons, were raised high amid floods of ticker-tape, fireworks and, in some cases, tears.
Celtic’s own celebration was smoothly choreographed – though hardly restrained - given it had plenty of foresight in the planning, as some considerable time had passed since the league was won.
Manchester City’s title party had been just as expected, of course, although the impossibly late drama in that case led to even more raucous celebrations than may otherwise have been anticipated. And, farther afield, trust Real Madrid to add the glamour, with a trophy presentation that wasted no time on false modesty.
As the champagne flowed, the contrasting demeanour of one man who himself is no stranger to such outpourings of triumphalism was a sight to behold. How appropriate, as it transpired, that Sir Alex Ferguson was clad in black, as the prospect of a twentieth league championship was dangled in front of his nose, before being snatched away in the cruellest of circumstances.
To borrow from Edmund Blackadder, Ferguson wore the look of a man who has had an arrow fired into his head, only to then discover it has a gas bill tied to it. Nearly forty years of football management (clearly) doesn’t diminish the pain that the beautiful game can bestow upon its most prominent – and successful – devotees.
Suddenly, Ferguson looked his years. Never one to conceal his emotions at the best of times, the look of utter disbelief and abject despondency aged him in front of our very eyes. Anyone who doubts the importance of football in the grand scheme of things might just have reflected a moment at that point. Only a game? That’ll be the day.
Ferguson is frequently lauded as a winner, and when you consider his trophy haul over the years, it’s difficult to argue the point. His status as one of the best managers of all time –if not the best – is certainly beyond question, although the inclinations towards a particular era, country or team tends to stifle rational debate on that front.
It’s hard to escape the notion that, when Graeme Souness once said ‘Show me a good loser and I’ll show you a loser,’ Ferguson may have been uppermost in his thoughts.
Of course, it all started back in the 1980s, with another team in red. Aberdeen benefited under the fiery tutelage of Ferguson, with the Old Firm’s duopoly temporarily suspended as the silverware frequently headed north east out of Glasgow. Few will suggest that Celtic and Rangers’ dominance of the Scottish football scene will be so challenged ever again.
The good work, following an initial few difficult years, bore fruit in Manchester, as United dominated the silverware. As the seasons rolled on, questions concerning Ferguson’s longer term desire for success were swatted aside before they could be seriously posed.
Even his 70th birthday had failed to dampen the raw passion, the determination to succeed. Not so long ago, the man himself maintained that he has mellowed, although anyone who witnessed his recent touchline spat with Manchester City boss Roberto Mancini would be forgiven for casting more than a little doubt on that particular claim.
Not that Ferguson, for all his experience and enthusiasm for the game, has been without his faults. For instance, his failure to address the deficiencies within the United midfield in recent seasons has surely come back to haunt him.
Perhaps Michael Carrick and Ryan Giggs can be relied upon to ensure the side occupies the loftier echelons of the Premiership more often than not, but two Champions League final maulings at the hands of Barcelona in recent seasons suggested that they would continue to fall some way short of the mark when faced with the pick of the bunch in Europe.
Paul Scholes’ return came agonisingly close to delivering success for a few months at least,. And he is set to play on for one more campaign in 2012/13, but even his 37-year-old legs surely can’t be relied upon any longer?
The suspicion therefore remains that major surgery is required in midfield, (the goalkeeping position might benefit from some attention, too) otherwise United may continue to suffer disappointment come the business end of the seasons ahead.
In the meantime, Ferguson may well wince when reminded of his response to a question about the prospect of Manchester City dominating United in light of their outlandish spending power. ‘Not in my lifetime,’ was his curt reply three years ago.
And so, as the so-called noisy neighbours lap it up across the city, the doubters will resurface, perhaps questioning Ferguson’s appetite for the fray. Whether he can recapture the success of recent times remains to be seen. However, it would be premature, and probably foolish, to write Ferguson off just yet.