What a specimen, I thought, as I watched Matthijs de Ligt. It was May 2019; the Dutch centre-back had just captained Ajax to a domestic double. The Amsterdam club had also reached the Champions League semifinals after 22 years. Mic in one hand, champion’s shield held casually in the other, the strapping 19-year-old listed the European giants Ajax had beaten—Bayern Munich, Real Madrid, Juventus. “We have shown the real Ajax,” he thundered, as 1,00,000 delirious fans cheered. I had been enthralled by his physicality, tactical awareness and on-the-ball ability for well over a year. But, it was at that moment that my heart said: “I do.”
I wanted him at my club—a big-spending, mid-table team called Manchester United. But, it wasn’t to be. Matthijs chose the Old Lady of Turin. I was shattered. To pick up the pieces, my club brought in Harry Maguire. We even one-upped Matthijs’s new club by spending a world-record (for a defender) £80 million on Harry—they spent only €75 million on Matthijs.
It started well. Harry, 26, towered over opponents, read the game well and was good on the ball. Within six months, he was named skipper. Meanwhile, in Italy, Matthijs was struggling to meet expectations.
However, despite a solid first season, Harry was soon overwhelmed by United. The new captain sank with his ship. His highlight reels show gems like pulling down a teammate to clear a path for an opponent to score, dawdling to kill counter-attacks, missing simple passes, and sundry assaults on teammates—Paul Pogba got a scorpion-kick; Cristiano Ronaldo, a headbutt.
United fans cried, laughed and despaired (some dregs of society even made a bomb threat against Harry). For many fans, the only hope was that Harry might go to jail. Back in 2020, at a Greek night club, two men allegedly injected his sister with a rape-drug. Unlike on the field in years to come, Harry spotted danger and stepped in. By the sound of it, he sent bodies flying. Every sinew in me wanted to support the gallant brother; yet, I also wanted him out of my club. However, nothing came of the case.
Notably, in November 2022, a Ghanaian MP mocked Harry, calling the Ghana vice president an “economic Maguire”—a liability. And in 2023, Harry was stripped of captaincy. It was a big blow and rumours swirled he’d leave. A London team made a good offer, but Harry, aka ‘Slabhead’, refused a wage cut. Now, I was furious. I had been supportive (except for briefly wishing him incarceration), but, he had stayed for money; this was too much. Millions of United fans, myself included, sharpened our knives. The next mistake would not be forgiven.
Infuriatingly, relieved of captaincy, he improved drastically (at times, he has been the team’s best defender and its most potent attacking threat). The Ghanaian MP said sorry; Slabhead’s response was gracious and warm. In that warmth, we melted; the knives were gone. He was ours, to deride, yes, but, also to cherish. A rare modern footballer who tackled mind-numbing, often deserved, criticism head-on and came out on top. He has athletic limitations. In character, he is not lacking.
Now Matthijs is here, 26 and battle-hardened by stints in Turin and Munich, to take over as the big man in United’s defence. Yet there are no complaints when Harry plays—he has earned it.