Neil Humphreys: Red Devils party like it’s 1999
Solskjaer's boys showing the spirit of Treble winners by hitting the right notes in Fergie time
After the final whistle, they sang his name. Loudly. Repeatedly. Adoringly.
Ole Gunnar Solskjaer. There's only one Ole Gunnar Solskjaer.
The chant was more than a celebration. It was a coronation, a literal confirmation that there was only one man for Manchester United.
After a long, clumsy game of thrones, they had made a final decision. Not the fans, not the executives, but the players themselves, anointing him from within.
The players sang Solskjaer's name. He's their man, in every sense. The Norwegian has demonstrated, definitively now, that it's not about being the best manager in the world, but the best manager for Manchester United.
Solskjaer has taken United back in time to stabilise their future, establishing a camaraderie not seen since he popped up with the winner in the 1999 Champions League final to secure the Treble.
United can't win a Treble this season and there's obviously an argument that the European winners of 2008 were a superior side, but that's precisely the point.
Remember Ronny Johnsen and Jesper Blomqvist? They started the 1999 Champions League final. Roy Keane and Paul Scholes were suspended. Jonathan Greening and David May were on the bench.
Sir Alex Ferguson relied on the carrot of trophy-winning momentum and the stick of wounded pride.
He dared his patched-up side to lose the European final. He reminded them of the potential pain, of walking past "Ol' Big Ears" and not being able to touch it.
They would win, in Fergie time if necessary, but they would prevail. That was the United way.
Solskjaer said the same yesterday, echoing the words of the man he still calls "The Boss" after pulling off one of the great Champions League comebacks.
His words were succinct. Spellbinding even.
This club. This is what we do. That's Man United.
But they hadn't been doing that before. Louis van Gaal and Jose Mourinho brought life back to the trophy cabinet while playing a deathly kind of football, as if there was no other option.
They made managing United a binary decision. Sexy football or silverware.
The Red Devils were told they could no longer have both. But Solskjaer knows better.
Ferguson's presence in the dressing room after the 3-1 win against Paris Saint-Germain was not a coincidence.
Nor was the viral photo with the three Musketeers of Manchester.
Eric Cantona. Ferguson. Solskjaer. The poet. The preacher. The prince. They came together to celebrate the return of a shared philosophy.
Whatever the personnel problems, there's no complaining at United.
Solskjaer missed 10 first-teamers through injury or suspension, but the interim manager refused to entertain negative speculation in the build-up (just imagine Mourinho's moaning if he'd had half as many absentees).
And then there's the lack of compromise.
Solskjaer took Thomas Tuchel to school by going old school with a classic 4-4-2.
Marcus Rashford and Romelu Lukaku lived on their markers' shoulders, a clear instruction from a manager who once built a career from the same approach.
Both men were presumably ordered to shoot from distance, to test the ageing Gianluigi Buffon in the PSG goal.
Younger goalkeepers don't usually spill speculative drives from 25m, but 41-year-old men might. United sensed weakness.
Rashford probed. Lukaku scored from the rebound. It was a striker's goal for a striker's manager.
And the VAR-assisted winner came from the visitors attacking deep into Fergie time, after scoring twice with a bold 4-4-2 line-up in the hostile Parc des Princes. United made their own luck.
Fergie time wasn't a mythical bonus handed to the watch-jabbing coach from terrified officials, but a testament to the club's ethos and their refusal to accept defeat, whatever the circumstances.
Solskjaer time is built on similar principles, first against Southampton and now against PSG. It's an unwillingness to yield or play safe.
Most of all, it's fun.
Under Mourinho, a United match was a visit to a distant, comatose relative.
It was depressing and mostly pointless. Loyalty was the only reason to show up.
Now, the Red Devils are big box office again, not in a Hollywood blockbuster sense, but in an M. Night Shyamalan thriller kind of way.
Almost every game comes with a twist (the comeback), a cliff-hanger (the penalty), a hero (Rashford) and even a character redemption (Fred).
This is giddy football at its most glorious, a weekly pantomime of underdogs and upsets. Solskjaer already owns the dugout. By the end of the season, he might own a trophy or two.
Without a league title, United might not feel like they did in 1999, but they are certainly hitting all the right notes.
PSG: Buffon, Kehrer (Paredes 70), Silva, Kimpembe, Alves (Cavani 90+5), Marquinhos, Verratti, Bernat, Draxler (Meunier 70), di Maria, Mbappe
MAN UNITED: De Gea, Shaw, Lindelof, Smalling, Bailly (Dalot 36), Pereira (Chong 80), Fred, McTominay, Young (Greenwood 87), Lukaku, Rashford