Rebuilding the Theatre

Jin Taige's words hung in the air, heavy with implication. The situation at Manchester United, he believed, was far from stable. The team's lineup was teetering on the edge of a crisis, and the future looked uncertain. Just as he finished speaking, a voice cut through the silence from behind them.

"Dangerous? Tiger, what do you think of the team's future?"

Jin Taige and McGuinness turned abruptly, their eyes widening as they saw Sir Alex Ferguson standing there, his expression unreadable.

"Mr. Ferguson, where did you come from?" McGuinness stammered, clearly caught off guard.

Ferguson's face was stern, his gaze piercing. "I came from the moment you said 'crisis.'" His tone was calm but carried an undeniable weight.

McGuinness glanced nervously at Jin Taige, sensing trouble. At that moment, a player on the field fell to the ground, clutching his ankle. Seizing the opportunity, McGuinness excused himself. "I'd better check on him," he said, hurrying away.

Now, it was just Jin Taige and Ferguson.

"Tiger, let's sit down and talk," Ferguson said, gesturing toward the bench.

"Of course, sir," Jin Taige replied, his voice steady despite the tension.

They sat in silence for a while, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on them. Finally, Ferguson broke the silence.

"How have you been?" he asked, his tone softer now.

"I'm fine, sir," Jin Taige replied.

Ferguson nodded. "McGuinness told me you've been in better spirits lately. That's good. The past is behind you. You've got a bright future ahead. Who knows? Maybe one day you'll take my place."

Jin Taige smiled faintly. "I'd need at least a couple more decades to reach your level, sir."

Ferguson shook his head. "I don't think so. You're already sharper than most."

Jin Taige raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Ferguson leaned forward, his eyes locking onto Jin Taige's. "You're the first person to openly say the first team is in crisis. Everyone else is too busy singing praises. But you—you see the cracks. That's why I want to hear your thoughts. What do you think of the team's future?"

Jin Taige hesitated, unsure how much to say. "Sir, I didn't mean to overstep. I was just—"

Ferguson cut him off. "Don't play modest with me. We've known each other for over 20 years. Speak your mind."

On the first-team training ground, the atmosphere was relaxed. Captain Ryan Giggs led the players in a recovery jog, their laughter echoing across the pitch. With just four games left in the season and a seven-point lead over Manchester City, the Premier League title seemed all but secured. The players were in high spirits, their focus already shifting to the celebrations ahead.

But their early exits from the Champions League, FA Cup, and League Cup had left a bitter taste. The loss to Real Madrid in the Round of 16 had been particularly painful, a reminder of the gap between Manchester United and Europe's elite. Yet, the players seemed untroubled, their confidence unshaken.

Little did they know, a conversation taking place on the youth team's training ground would soon reshape their futures.

Encouraged by Ferguson's openness, Jin Taige took a deep breath and began. "Sir, I believe there are hidden dangers in almost every position."

He picked up a tablet and pulled up the squad list. "Starting with the goalkeepers—De Gea is exceptional, no doubt. He's young, talented, and has the potential to become one of the best in the world. But Lindegaard, our backup, isn't at the same level. If De Gea gets injured, we'll be in trouble."

Ferguson nodded, his expression thoughtful.

"In defense," Jin Taige continued, "Ferdinand and Vidic have been phenomenal, but they're not getting any younger. Jones and Smalling are promising, but they lack experience. Evans is inconsistent. As for the full-backs, Evra and Rafael are solid, but we don't have reliable backups. If either gets injured, we're exposed."

Ferguson's eyes narrowed as he listened intently.

"The midfield is where I'm most concerned," Jin Taige said. "Scholes is retiring this year, Giggs next year, and Carrick isn't getting any younger. The younger players—Cleverley, Anderson, they're good, but they're not world-class. And since Keane left, we've lacked a true enforcer in midfield. That's a glaring weakness."

Ferguson leaned back, his arms crossed. "And the forwards?"

"The forward line is our strongest area," Jin Taige admitted. "Rooney and Van Persie are world-class. Hernandez is a natural finisher, and Welbeck has immense potential. But even there, we could use more depth, especially a pacey winger to add variety to our attack."

When Jin Taige finished, Ferguson closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. For a moment, he said nothing, his face unreadable. Jin Taige waited, his heart pounding.

Finally, Ferguson opened his eyes and fixed Jin Taige with a penetrating stare. "If you were my successor, how would you move the team forward?"

Jin Taige didn't hesitate. "We need to rebuild. Not just tweak the squad, but overhaul it. Bring in young, hungry players and blend them with the experienced ones. It's the only way to ensure long-term success."

Ferguson raised an eyebrow. "That's a risky strategy. The team's performance could suffer in the short term."

"It's a risk we have to take," Jin Taige said firmly. "If we don't act now, we'll be stuck in a cycle of decline. We need to build a new generation, just like you did with the Class of '92. Only then can we guarantee Manchester United's dominance for the next 20 years."

Ferguson studied him for a long moment, then a slow smile spread across his face. "You've got guts, Tiger. I like that."

Jin Taige met his gaze, a spark of determination in his eyes. "I believe in this club, sir. I always have."

Ferguson stood, clapping a hand on Jin Taige's shoulder. "You've given me a lot to think about. Keep up the good work."

As Ferguson walked away, Jin Taige felt a surge of hope. The future of Manchester United was uncertain, but he was ready to play his part in shaping it.