If I needed a result to epitomise what Manchester United were about, it came during my last game in charge. We were 5-2 up against West Brom but, in just nine minutes, they scored three to equalise. After the game, I spoke quietly to the players for one last time. "You're all a total disgrace," I yelled. "You've let the club down, you've let me down and you've let yourselves down." It felt good to be leaving the club in the same way I had arrived – in a filthy temper and blaming everyone but myself.

My decision to retire had been made the previous Christmas. My wife, Cathy, had tried to talk me out of it, just as she had done back in 2001 when I had first announced I was going to leave the club. "I just can't stand the thought of you sitting around at home and shouting at us and the TV," she had said. "Stay at Old Trafford and yell at everyone who's English."

I've no time for racism. It's got no place in the game. And the motto of the Ferguson clan is "Numquam fallor" or "I am always right". It is one I've always tried to live by, ever since I was manager at St Mirren and had to tell wee Frank McGarvey that his career was over. He was a big wee man, was Frank, and he wasn't happy. "You're making a big mistake," he shouted at me. But I knew I wasn't. A manager has to be big enough to admit when he's wrong. Fortunately, I never was.

Having already written three autobiographies, I'll skip the rest of my early career to settle scores with everyone who has crossed me since 2002. David Beckham: a big man. But a wee man, too. He had a lot of natural ability, but he threw it all away. He thought he was bigger than Alex Ferguson. Mistake. No one is bigger than Alex Ferguson. His career has been in freefall since he left Manchester United. I sincerely believe that. If David is honest with himself, he knows that, too.

Roy Keane. There's a wee man who would argue with his own shadow. He gave me a lot of problems, I can tell you. Everyone hated him. He had no respect for the game. You just can't shout at referees and refuse to talk to the wee BBC for years on end. That's not how the game works. It's just not professional.

We should never have lost to Benfica in 2005. The referee that night was terrible. He only added on three minutes injury time. People say that I always used to try and influence referees into giving decisions our way. But that's just not true. I would never do that. I make a point of only abusing the linesmen.

Wayne Rooney: a good player who could have been great. His problem was that he thought he knew better than me. If he'd eaten a few less pies and learnt to speak English as well as Ronaldo, he could have been nearly world-class. Paul Scholes was a great player. One of the best. Knew when to keep his mouth shut. Which was always. He could pass the ball OK, too. Wee Ryan Giggs wasn't bad, either. Would have been better if he'd kept his trousers zipped up around his brother's wife, mind.

The Rock of Gibraltar. It was my horse; that's all I'm going to say about that. I bear no ill feelings about it. But I know where you live, John Magnier. The Glazers. Great people. Entirely the right people to run a club like Manchester United. People who say they took £500m out of the club and ruined my ability to buy whoever I wanted are completely wrong. I managed to get £7m out of them for Bebe without even seeing him play. He was a great wee boy, Bebe. Could have been one of the best. If he'd had two legs.

I've no regrets about anything in my career. I'm proud of what I've done for the club. And in particular for the players. Most of them would have won nothing without me. I'll treasure their leaving present to me for ever. A mirror. "Something for you to shout at," they said. Good wee lads. Great wee lads. Wee great good wee lads.

Digested read digested: A hairdryer writes.