Ryan Giggs exclusive Eric helped me achieve my football dreams
We would hear the door pushed open at the top of the stairs that came down into the gym at the Cliff, and all of us Manchester United apprentices would look up in expectation, because if it was our coach, Eric Harrison, then we had better make sure we looked busy.
The game of head tennis in the corner would end abruptly, the effort being put into the weights would increase noticeably and by the time Eric reached the bottom of the stairs and strode across the floor, we were all training hard. The gym at the Cliff, United’s training ground up to 1999, was nothing like you see these days – more like something out of Rocky IV
– and Eric headed straight for the bench press.
He did not bother changing the weights, he just lifted the whole thing, rack and all. He did it just the once and he would let out a roar as he did so. It was a reminder that he might be a bit older than all of us, and no longer a professional footballer, but he was strong and woe betide we forget that.
The death of Eric at 81 is a sad day for all of us who benefited from his great knowledge as a coach, and also from his natural toughness, which he was keen to pass on to us apprentices. As we made our way in professional football, we also saw his kindness. Eric was a very hard Yorkshireman who liked to tell us that he played for Halifax Town regardless of injury, weather, or the state of the pitch. A player who squared up to him learned very soon that he would take on anyone. But he had a soft side to him, too. We were just boys after all, and he knew when we needed support.
I joined United at 14 and was straight under his care. He was the manager of the A team, as it was then, where the best players from the youth team would progress, via the B team, managed by Brian Kidd. We trained Tuesday and Thursday at the Cliff and often Eric would bring in a couple of the apprentices at that time, including Sir Alex Ferguson’s son Darren, to train with us.
Eric was constantly trying to take us out of our comfort zone, to show us schoolboys that we had to keep improving if we wanted to make it as professionals.
One of his favourites was the “one to eight run” which was gruelling. The apprentices were more used to it and could complete the run. For us younger ones, as our lungs burned and our legs ached, we could hear Eric shouting at us to keep up with the older lads.
I was a year older than my fellow Class of ’92 apprentices, Gary Neville, Paul Scholes, David Beckham and Nicky Butt, and by the age of 15 I was already in the reserves. Eric played me as a centre-forward and I recall one trip to non-league side Marine, on Merseyside. The centre-back marking me was a tough nonleague veteran – it was a man against a boy. I am certain that Eric instructed our goalkeeper to knock the ball long that day to test my appetite to battle with my opponent.
It snowed one day at the Cliff, and Eric refused to cancel training. He got a rugby ball out and insisted we play with that instead, which was fine for me as a Welsh lad who knew the game well. Some of the others, less familiar with the rules, had to be told they could not pass it forward. Eric insisted on full intensity and full contact.
Yet for all his toughness, Eric’s teams played good football. He protected us. If there was a bad challenge from the opposition, or a weak referee, he would let them know. In the coaches’ office at the Cliff he was treated as an equal by “Kiddo” and Archie Knox. Sir Alex, whom Eric predated at United, rated him highly. If you went into their room at the Cliff, it was Eric behind the desk holding court, a pot of tea on the table, and a discussion about training.
Behind the main pitch at the Cliff, we had a small area with just one set of goalposts. We called it “Wembley”. It was there that we practised crossing and shooting in the afternoons. Eric’s crossing was more consistently accurate than any of us. He could play. If one of us was having a bad day, he would send a perfect ball over to the striker and remind us that this was easy if you just practised.
He was desperate to win the FA Youth Cup in my era and we had gone through a few near-misses before we eventually did in 1992. When I was a schoolboy, I had been in the United team who reached the semi-finals and lost to Tottenham Hotspur. The following year we lost to Sheffield Wednesday at the same stage. By the time Becks and Scholesy were in the side, I was in the first team but just as desperate to win it, too. There was no question of me not coming back into the side and I played in the semi-final and then the final against Crystal Palace.
That group of players had finally won the trophy, a key step before we pushed on to make it in the first team. We were not the first group of players whom Eric had developed. He had brought through a great early 1980s generation including Norman Whiteside and Mark Hughes and another in the late 1980s. That so many of us from the Class of ’92 became United players, and for so long, was a great achievement for Eric. Was he surprised? I don’t think so. He really believed in us.
Ryan Giggs has donated his fee for this article to Foundation 92, a charity launched by the Class of ’92 to support people in Salford and Greater Manchester improve their lives using the power of football
‘He was a hard man with a soft side. We were just boys and he knew when we needed support’