This is the story of a drifter.
He opened his eyes amid the thick smoke billowing from the Twin Towers.
With no money and no memories, he relied on muscle memory to dodge falling steel beams. In the ruins, he found a plane ticket and a passport. The name on the passport was Haimen Aluojia.
And so his new life began.
He had nothing tying him down. An old man led him to a football pitch, and he followed that path to the very end.
"Haimen is a man whose face you can never quite make out," Ferguson once said. "From the way he speaks, his appearance, or his habits, you can't tell where he's from. It's as if he sprang out of football itself, a wandering spirit on the pitch. But whenever he appears, it means victory."
He rarely spoke, and his few words were like chips of ice shaved off an iceberg.
"If you think of Haimen and the boss as hair dryers," said a certain heartthrob who wished to remain anonymous, "the boss blows warm air, while Haimen blows a Siberian gale that makes you feel like you've plunged into the depths of the sea.
"But you'll be more driven than ever, fighting to reach the shore and charge up to the crest of a wave. He's a leader."
Apart from the rush of adrenaline when the score changed on the pitch, he cared about nothing.
"The best manager of the year, and the youngest person ever to receive the award: Haimen Aluojia!"
"Haimen led his team to unprecedented success! An unbeaten treble!"
"The man you'd most like to spend a night with: Haimen! He beat second place by more than ten thousand votes. How enviable!"
When someone asked him, "If your life started over and you had the chance to leave your pre-amnesia self one message, what would you say?"
He lowered his head and thought for a moment, then replied calmly, "Glory is nothing." It was the journey that forged his soul.
He is Haimen Aluojia.
A man who went from being a drifter living under a stolen identity to a legendary coach who left an eternal mark on the history of world football.
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Theme: Never give up.
