Words Chris Flanagan
Additional reporting Nicolas Puiravau, Ian MurtaghM
idway through the 1991–92 season,
Michel Platini strode up to the boss
of one of England’s biggest clubs
and began his sales pitch.
“I’ve got a player for you,” he told the man
stood in front of him, a fearsome Scot who’d
enjoyed managerial success north of the
border but had yet to steer his current team
to a league title in England. Platini believed
he knew just the person who could seriously
improve their fortunes.
“He’s a problem boy, but he’s also really
talented,” said the French legend, then the
coach of the national team. “He’d be perfect
for your club.”
Graeme Souness wasn’t so sure. Liverpool
were ninth in the top flight, their glory days
fading to grey. That night, they’d beaten
Auxerre at Anfield in the UEFA Cup, but that
hadn’t softened Souey’s mood. The answer
was an immediate no.
“Listen Michel,” he said, “I’m fighting fires
at the moment, trying to get some people
out the door. They’re resisting – I’m fightingThey didn’t make them like Eric then, and they still don’t now. Unapologetically
enigmatic, the Frenchman spent his career thrilling and befuddling in equal
measure – no one in football history carries an aura like the King. Cantona
wowed, warred and often wounded, but thank God he came here 30 years agoCAn T O n A
OOH, AHH,
THE
STORY OF
MAn UTD60 The Story of Man Utd FourFourTwo.comFROm THE FFT ARCHIVES:
MARCH 2022