There comes a point somewhere between hatred and respect and at that dividing line sits the baby-face assassin Ole Gunnar Solskjær.

It seems the 34-year-old Norwegian has won a lot of fans over the years and, perhaps most surprisingly, some of those fans live in the Red half of Liverpool. I am not sure what it is about the diminutive striker; is it his battling against injury after injury? is it the fact that he appears to be the kind of player we would all wish to be, a player who encompasses all that is good in the game?

Few could have predicted that the £1.5m invested to bring Ole from Molde, a tiny club even by Scandinavian standards (their record attendance is less than 15,000), that eleven trophy-laden years would follow, along with a wealth of goals and determined performances that would make so many Old Trafford fans elated. For the record, he managed an incredible 128 goals in just 217 starts, albeit he made a habit of scoring from the bench, but he was so much more than a ‘super sub’.

'The hug and words from former team-mate Roy Keane looked genuinely heartfelt'


Credit should also be given to the way Man United and Sir Alex Ferguson stood by their man as he struggled from injury to injury with an alarming regularity that would make Jonny Wilkinson proud. It’s a cliché I know, but it is a pleasure to see a player performing with a smile on his face. Solskjær always came across as a player who realised he had been given a big break by joining arguably the biggest football club on the planet, and he continuously looked as though he wasn’t going to let the chance pass him by without giving 110% (another lovely cliché).

In the decade plus one that he spent in Manchester he won it all, six league titles, 2 FA Cups, 1 League Cup and perhaps the crowning glory came on the night of the 26th of May in Barcelona when after not much more than ten minutes on the pitch he famously directed Teddy Sheringham’s header past Oliver Kahn to spark scenes of joy across the stadium and Westwards towards the North of England to Manchester.

However I think the most fitting tribute to Kristiansund’s most famous son is the fact that following his tearful, but long awaited, retirement he became the recipient of thousands upon thousands of tributes from just about every corner of the footballing world, including their rivals from the North-West, Liverpool. The animosity and loathing that exits between the two clubs is as well publicised as it is deep felt, but it seems that in the 5ft 10ins  Mr. Solskjær there exists a player, an individual, a hope that even Merseysiders cannot bring themselves to despise, if only Gary Neville inspired such love and admiration.

There are many players credited with helping to bring about Sir Alex’s revolution, from Eric Cantona to Peter Schmeichel and all stops in between, and whilst those inspirational figures were undoubtedly figureheads and leaders on the park that helped Ferguson to silverware aplenty, but I am sure that there were no dry eyes in M16 when the ever modest front man reluctantly walked through the guard of honour created by his former team-mates and visiting Sunderland line-up.

The hug and words from former team-mate Roy Keane looked genuinely heartfelt; the standing ovation from the 75,000 fans, four times the population of his hometown, the emotional way he ambled injury laden to the centre circle to accept the adulation, all of this was fairytale stuff.

There will be many players who come and go in the top leagues all around the world who have as much ability as the baby-faced assassin, but there will be few to match his professionalism, dogged determination, his finishing touch and perhaps most of all, his unmatched passion for the game, a passion that he shares with each and every football fan.