"Aren't his stats rather bad on Football Manager?" The year was 2006 (barely), and the conversation was between two school-kids debating a recent development, of no consequence to anybody around them, but a matter of life and death for them. For them, as was the case of any fan of Manchester United, things were grave. The typhoon called Jose Mourinho had just hit England's shores and, backed by Roman Abramovic's depthless pockets, was cruising to a second straight title. They had Terry, Lampard, Makelele and most importantly Peter Kenyon, the bald ex-United chairman who had deserted ship when the Russian oil-money came calling.
Kenyon knew exactly who Sir Alex Ferguson was planning to sign, how much he was planning to bid and simply bid a few mil higher, thus robbing United of potential stars like Arjen Robben and Michael Essien. There seemed to be no stopping the bad guys and United needed Fergie to pull a cat out of the bag. Instead, he pulled out an obscure Serbian.
Ten years and two weeks later, as one of the participants in the aforementioned debate logged on to Twitter, he was greeted with the news that a certain Nemanja Vidic had announced his retirement. The sudden influx of emotions that he felt on hearing that news is a testimony to how big a cat, Fergie had managed to pull out of the bag ten years ago.
The United team that dominated English and European football from 2007 to 2011 had some of the biggest names to ever wear the red shirt. There was Cristiano Ronaldo, not yet the machine he is now but made even more exhilarating by his unpredictability. There was Wayne Rooney, not yet shorn of his hair or his pace, Ryan Giggs who seemed to reinvent himself every three games and Rio Ferdinand, impossibly classy for an English centre-back. There was Gary Neville, who had taken on the mantle of 'Mr United' since Roy Keane's acrimonious exit and Edwin Van der Saar - Ferguson's best bargain since Eric Cantona. Yet, surrounded as he was by all these stars, it was Vidic who managed to create a cult of his own in the red shirt.
The cult of Vidic, in its prime, was one that rivalled any other of its ilk. There were the roars that went around Old Trafford each time Vidic rose into the air with a perfectly timed jump and generated more power with a recoil of his head than most people could with their feet. There were the wild celebrations at the Stretford End, each time he ran into the crowd to celebrate a goal. And, most entertainingly, there were the hijacked Chuck Norris jokes, that United fans borrowed from around the web and credited to their very own Ivan Drago. 'Nemanja Vidic doesn't wear a watch. He decides what time it is.'
His United career can be summed up with two highlight reels. The impossibly-violent one with all the leg-breaking, bleeding and bullying will no doubt garner more views on Youtube. But it is the one with all the perfectly-timed tackles, towering headers and a calmness that belied his volatile game that speaks volumes of the man. There is perhaps no better example of this than the 2008 Champions League semifinal against
Barcelona. With minutes left in the game, United were continuously under siege by an attack that consisted of Lionel Messi and Thierry Henry. There was no getting past Vidic and Rio. Today's United would have conceded five.
There is an episode that Ferguson recounts in his autobiography. One fine day Vidic came to see the Scot in his office and revealed that there was a chance he may be called up by the army to fight in Kosovo. And as Fergie stood there, frozen by disbelief, Vidic made his intentions clear. "I'm going. It's my duty." Fortunately no call-up came and Vidic gave his prime to an army of a different sort, one with red uniforms and footballs, not guns. And for all the exemplary services rendered for a noble cause, dear comrade, thou shalt never be forgotten!