I was devastated recently when I heard that Eric Harrison had passed away.
Eric was a key part of the careers of so many top level Manchester United players, and the impact he made on the club and the lads he worked with cannot be overstated. I was fortunate enough to spend four years working with him, from when I went to United as a 14-year-old through to when he pushed me into the Reserves as an 18-year-old.
It didn’t take long for Eric to make me aware of what it meant to be a United player. I remember an incident in my first year at the club that really made me understand the levels and standards we were at. We beat Blackburn Rovers in a cup final, relatively comfortably, but we didn’t play especially well. Still we’d won the cup. But, when we went in the dressing room afterwards, Eric started going mad. Before we knew what was happening, the gaffer, Sir Alex Ferguson, came in as well and they were both going mad. They just laid into us.
The gist was clear: if you think that’s acceptable to perform like that at this club then you’re wrong. The win was irrelevant to them. They wanted to develop and prepare better players for what was to come next. It was an eye-opener, because then I realised what they were looking for, what Eric wanted. He was more concerned about the performance and the development – yes, he wanted us to win, that was a prerequisite for being at the club – but though we’d won, we’d played poorly, so they let us have it. That was one of the first times I really understood what being a Manchester United player meant: it was about pride in your performance, pride in that badge you’re wearing.
That was a general lesson for any player who came through the club. With me, Eric introduced a new angle of looking at things. I was a centre forward to start with, until we faced Liverpool in an FA Youth Cup quarter-final at Anfield. I was playing a year up, so I was younger than everybody else on our team, but even though we were 2-0 up at half-time, I’d missed two one-on-ones and a half-chance. Michael Owen came off the bench for Liverpool, scored a hat-trick and we lost 3-2. From that day forward I was no longer a centre-forward.
I don’t know what Eric saw in me that day, but he just said: “Willo, I think you’re going to progress at this club as an attacking central midfielder. I’m going to work with you to become one.” He knew I could score goals, but questioned whether or not I had that goalscoring instinct that defined natural strikers. From that point on he really worked with me, individually at times. He put me in positions in training where I was always receiving the ball, getting my body shape right, being aggressive and he taught me values I didn’t have as a centre forward. He added a real defensive understanding to my game. I started to score goals from midfield, developed a range of passing that I never had as a striker and I think I developed a better understanding of the game because Eric saw something in me that he thought he could develop. That was huge for me. I ended up making my United debut two years later as a central midfielder and ended up playing that role for the rest of my career.
The funny thing is, I didn’t reluctantly start to become a midfielder. I trusted Eric implicitly and wholeheartedly. I understood what he was saying, acted on his advice and it worked. Every player at the club knew that Eric could be trusted and had to be listened to. I wouldn’t go as far as to say that we were scared of him, but we knew not to get on the wrong side of him. He was respected. Players did love him. They knew he cared about them, and in turn that just built trust.
Everything he did was for the benefit of us and for Manchester United. He was probably one of the most unselfish people you’ll come across in the game. He just gave and gave and gave. Even if you’d moved on out of his environment, there was always a bit of advice coming your way. You’d pass in the corridors and he’d mention things about the game you’d just played. You’d forget that he was still watching you develop, even though you’d moved on to play in the Reserves or the first team. As you move through the ranks, it’s easy to forget the people that have instilled these characteristics and developed you, because you’re always looking up, looking to the first team, and you don’t always have that contact time. Eric never stopped looking, never stopped watching, never stopped giving you advice to help you along your way. That was a measure of the man and why he impacted on so many players.
When I moved into the coaching side of the game, I couldn’t help but take lessons I’d learned from working with Eric. I looked at my own example, how Eric had impacted on my career, and I realised that I needed to look at a player for who they want to be and who they can be, not just what position they play at that moment. You’ve got to look beyond what you see and see if you might be able to develop another aspect or element to their game? Eric made me very conscious and aware to be paying attention to every little detail of an individual, and that brings open-mindedness to coaching and the way you view things.
Moreover, as a coach, you simply can’t affect a player’s mentality, develop their attributes or skills in players if that player doesn’t trust you. I firmly believe football players don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care. Eric was all about making sure you felt you could trust him, and you did. Not just because he’d worked with the Class of ‘92and other players before them; it was just about the way he handled himself. Yes, he could be tough and demanding, but he was very much wired in to his players.
The way he demanded more from you, he just seemed to pick exactly the right moments when you needed it. He knew when the time was right to let you know how he felt about you as a player, and make you feel like you really belonged at the club. That’s not by chance. That’s by design and that was down to the experience he’d built up. That’s a rare skill, and a big part of the reason he was one of the very best in the business.
Mark Wilson, Man United from 1994-2001.