It is going to be fascinating to see who replaces Ferguson, but this is not a story that will go away quickly. The unknown trajectory of the future of Manchester United will keep us entertained for years.
So this is it: the final furlong, the last hurdle, squeaky bum time. The question is 'Can Gareth Bale haul the flaccid, deadweight of his Tottenham Hotspur team across the Champions League finishing line'? Wednesday's clash with Chelsea will most likely provide the answer.
Alex Ferguson routinely pours scorn over the idea of recruitment at this time of year, but he should know more than most that for every Jean-Alain Boumsong or Ricardo Rocha there's a Nemanja Vidić or a Patrice Evra out there waiting to be snaffled up.
We have had some developments, a renewed focus on the area that may not have materialised had the riots started elsewhere. But people still harbour resentment - and perhaps we are lucky that the nation is being held aloft by the tide of the Olympics.
Look left, a heavyweight boxer dances in the corner to the rhythm of his every punch. Look up; a young artist sketches the grandiose image of angel wings onto a scaffold canvas. Listen, to the voice of the disillusioned youth through the spoken words of a blinged up poet.
Football has been making the headlines lately. Chelsea thrashed Tottenham 5-1 last Sunday, not sure how the blues will get on playing my team, Liverpool, in the FA Cup final, but I'm definitely rooting for the reds.