A statue for Piers? It would be a fitting reward after Marcus Rashford’s revival 

The former Daily Mirror editor has played a central role in the affairs of Manchester United through the years.

ON SONG: The Manchester United forward, Marcus Rashford, has found his form once again.

The image is so poignant that immediately it renders onlookers sympathetic. In the opening chapters of Matt Dickenson’s excellent book revisiting Manchester United’s 1999 treble, he paints a picture of a son in arms of his father, uncontrollably sobbing. This was David Beckham’s nadir.

Ted once brought his only lad to a local Leytonstone park and honed a devasting right foot. He had just watched aghast as that same leg flicked Diego Simone and ended Beckham’s involvement in the 1998 World Cup clash with Argentina. Afterwards the winger marched head down past the baying press and only paused when he found his dad. There the dam burst.

A petulant foul unleashed a flood. Already the pretty kid who diverged from his lane toying with fame and pop musicians was constant front page tabloid fodder. At the time the game was just undergoing its economic boom and all the malaise that came with it. What many craved was simply an excuse. He became a pin-up scapegoat. ’10 HEROIC LIONS, ONE STUPID BOY’, announced the Mirror. Piers Morgan was editor at the time. The abuse was relentless. Ted worked as a gas fitter. Once his phone buzzed with orders. Now it was nonstop abusive messages. He said he was no longer proud to be British.

Symbolising the vitriol, an effigy bearing Beckham’s number seven was hung from scaffolding in South Norwood.

When asked about the media response years later, Morgan said he only regretted mocking up a Beckham dartboard, with his face as the bullseye.

From there Ferguson fuelled his own fire. First he told Beckham to get back to the club, where he was loved and supported. A media ban fed the siege mentality. Gary Neville labelled the FA’s ploy of letting their player tread water alone after falling overboard, ‘rubber-dingy management.’ In August, Beckham scored an added-time free-kick to equalise against Leicester. The entire squad mobbed him to mark the moment. “The identity of the new team was revealed today,” their manager said post-match.

At this point it is worth pausing to stress that while the fourth estate amplified the waves of Beckham bile it was neither pivotal or necessary. Dickenson skilfully explores the oceans of happenings that led to their historic triumph. Furthermore, Ferguson and United may have channelled the hurt but that is not to say a 23-year-old needed it.

Later that season, Morgan would inexplicably become entwined in the club’s fortunes once again. Media mogul Rupert Murdoch’s half-billion bid through BSkyB to takeover Man United threatened to be earth-shattering. The biggest TV player in the country wanted to own the biggest sporting side. Ferguson was concerned about how it would impact his future and had a serious advance from Juventus to consider.

For proud Piers, personally and professionally the takeover would be a disaster. The Arsenal fan knew further investment only made their rivals stronger. Murdoch’s relationship with the Sun meant his newspaper would be consistently outscooped.

In his autobiography, Morgan recalled concocting his sabotage. The plan was simple in its sophistication. BSkyB chief executive Mark Booth happened to be American. As Todd Boehly continues to learn, that is a problem to vast swathes of the football men.

Morgan sent a reporter to a Booth press conference with a body shot primed. He was to ask one question: “Can you tell me who plays left-back for Manchester United, please?” wondered the Mirror representative. Booth could not; a prolonged circus found its clown.

One of the “great questions of sports journalism,” claimed then United board member Greg Dyke. “In some ways I think the credibility of the deal collapsed with that question.” Really it just shifted the perception of it. What felled the deal was the British government’s Office of Fair Trading bringing in the Mergers and Monopolies Commission, who reported back disapprovingly.

Despite all our efforts, football can rarely be boiled down to a basic formula. It is not the case of one singular hand moving all the pieces. In reality many fingerprints touch the board. While it would unquestionably feed his ego to portray Morgan as an architect, it is more accurate to admit he was a player in a momentous period for the club.

True then. Even truer now. For services to the club, the time has come to honour Morgan with a statue. A medal of some sort failing that. What a remarkable thing that in a long list of awful decisions and signings post-Ferguson, their worst one spent hours with Morgan poring over them. In doing so, their biggest problem offered a sudden solution. The combination of two figures craving the limelight turned out to be the perfect remedy. Manchester United had cause to bring this ill-fated spell to an end.

Amidst all the benefactors, the richest has been Marcus Rashford. His record now stands at 18 goals and six assists in 30 appearances. An attack that had been reduced to a solitary blunt force is now varied and potent.

Like Beckham, he too endured post-tournament pain thanks to a missed penalty against Italy in the final of Euro 2020. The issues actually started in January 2020, when it was announced he had a double stress fracture in his back. There was also a piece of floating bone in his ankle which required surgery. Six months later he was under the knife again due to a shoulder injury.

After back-to-back years of flogging their thoroughbred for all they could, Rashford’s run ground to a halt. He was displaced yet again by Ronaldo’s arrival. According to Opta Analyst, Rashford has been shunted into five different positions across the 14968 minutes he has logged so far in the Premier League. Inevitably he looked unsure.

Rashford was betwixt and between, ultimately trapped in a failing system while struggling for fitness, confidence and form.

Some took advantage of his dip because of politics. A Tory MP messaged colleagues to suggest he spend more time perfecting his game and less time playing politics. The Daily Mail were keen to point out that the ‘campaigning football star’ had recently bought five houses.

Others still struggle to see how players can, shockingly, also be people. Low points and poor form inflict us all. A rotten environment exacerbated his dip and good coaching brought him out of it.

Mainly, it wasn’t really about Rashford at all. The takeaway is that it never is. To point at his performances as the problem during that particular era is like focusing on the blinking dashlight in a car that has no floor. Dissecting the entire machine is hard; pointing at one part is much easier. He was a convenient punching bag in a much bigger fight.

Later in Dickenson’s book, he tracks down the scaffolder who was behind Beckham’s effigy stunt. The man said the reaction was ridiculous and it was only a wind-up. Then a final kicker. What does he think of Beckham now?

“I don’t even like football, mate, to be honest with you.” For the likes of him, Ronaldo and Morgan, it is not about the players or the club. It is not even about the sport. Plainly, it is that it’s all about them.