HAPPILY anonymous . . .well, relatively so . . . amongst horse racing folk, Alex Ferguson, in his alter ego as bloodstock aficinado, could be found on the steps of Newmarket racecourse on Wednesday afternoon.

Despite the acrimonious conclusion to his ownership of Rock of Gibraltar, the Sport of Kings still engages the Manchester United manager, who witnessed Broomielaw, a son of "The Rock", running in his wife's colours with great promise.

However, Ferguson will no doubt have been just marginally distracted by the prospect of the three winning posts his footballers are approaching. As he scrutinised the blue bloods at the Craven meeting, he may have reflected how one of his most astute acquisitions has metamorphosed from skittish colt with enormous potential to a genuine Classic thoroughbred in world football.

In racing parlance, just as not all flat horses train on between those formative years of two and three, neither do teenage footballers at the equivalent stage. Even Ferguson, who procured the optimum from the diverse talents of Roy Keane and Eric Cantona, must have harboured a scintilla of doubt about Cristiano Ronaldo's temperament and love for the English game.

Before last summer, Ronaldo had teased our emotions.

Would he remain a footballing dilettante, a Wayne Sleep for football's corporate box-holders, an impostor seated on George Best's throne? Or would he progress to prove himself, at the very least, the Best of this generation?

The response has been emphatic. He has been electrified rather than cowed by the abuse he has received since returning from a World Cup where many considered him implicated in clubmate Wayne Rooney's dismissal against Portugal. His evident relish in confronting the bully can only have endeared him to the non-partisan. And the conjurer's repertoire of trickery is undiminished. "If he performed them on the stage of the London Palladium you would have to stand up and applaud, " says PFA chief executive Gordon Taylor.

"For him to perform them on the football field. . . makes it all the more remarkable."

But for United to reclaim the title and dominate Europe, they required that mesmerising footwork and football brain to yield real end product: goals, tantalising crosses and threaded, weighted passes. Though his manager would be the first to acknowledge that the team ethic is crucial . . . as Chelsea have demonstrated so emphatically . . . it is individuals who propel them across the line. It is true that Ferguson's injury-stricken team could still end up with everything, or nothing, or something in between. But the fact that they are poised for this, the final push, blessed with such momentum, has to a significant extent been yielded by the gift of Cristiano Ronaldo.

That contribution, a series of dynamic exhibitions, accompanied by 20 goals thus far, including those from that wicked right foot from the dead ball, is rightly reflected in his favouritism for tonight's Player of the Year award (an honour bestowed by the players) and next month's Footballer of the Year (as adjudged by football writers), together with a new �31 million contract.

In many ways, he epitomises the United mentality; his searing thrusts into the heart of opposition rearguards, and his affinity with Rooney, of all people, and the ageless Ryan Giggs, is sparing of no reputations. Though he is still caught by an opponents' boot, he no longer attempts to exploit the situation. He has learned that the best in the world remain on their feet, despite the provocation.

Ferguson is unequivocal about his ability to transform matches. "The best player in the world at the moment", he deemed the winger, adding that, in his personal grand order of merit, his �12.3 million signing from Sporting Lisbon could be mentioned in the same breath as Pele and Diego Maradona.

Pele isn't yet prepared to directly repay the compliment. He insists that: "To mention him as one of the best players is too soon".

Down the years, many have faded. Peter Marinello, Arsenal's teenage glamour boy of the early seventies arrived in a starburst of acclaim, scoring a sensational goal at Old Trafford on his debut, only to plunge into obscurity.

"I squandered my talent. I pissed most of it up against the wall, " the Scot says.

For the moment, Ronaldo has survived the scrutiny of the red-tops relatively unscathed. There has been the occasional association with young women blessed with a curiously retentive memory regarding his sexual prowess. But otherwise comparisons with Best have been confined to their respective footballing attributes, and in truth that is rather like comparing the finest racehorses of different generations, a futile exercise.

There is by no means unanimous agreement about his right to be installed on such a pedestal. The RTE pundit Eamon Dunphy was particularly parsimonious with his praise, claiming before United's annihilation of Roma that Ronaldo was "a puffball who's never done it on the big occasion".

Even some of those more kindly disposed towards him may argue that Ronaldo is merely the best of an indifferent bunch.

Which is to ignore such names as Steven Gerrard, Cesc Fabregas, Ryan Giggs and Paul Scholes, the other contenders for Player of the Year, together with the man who mounts the sternest challenge. In any other season, 31-goal Didier Drogba would surely claim the prize.

Some would contend he merits it too. Even more than Ronaldo, the sheer power and consistency of the Ivorian has maintained Chelsea's interest in the quadruple.

Both have been characters transformed. But something tells you that Ronaldo will get tonight's verdict . . . if only on the nod.

A couple of Old Etonians bankers, a female member of the aristocracy, assorted business interests, a diamond merchant. This is the old school of football hierarchy, and these are among the Arsenal directors that you rarely hear about. Many have been there for years, and that's the way they'd prefer it to remain.

While other clubs are inviting foreign monied interests like street corner hookers, chairman Peter Hill-Wood disdainfully baulked at the suggestion that American sports billionaire Stan Kroenke could launch a takeover bid. And that his financial muscle could be invaluable if Arsenal are to seriously challenge Chelsea and Manchester United. "Call me old-fashioned, but we don't want his money and we don't want his sort, " he said.

Many will cheer his defiance, even though his follow-up remark, "Our objective is to keep Arsenal English. . . albeit with a lot of foreign players" does rather spoil the effect.

For years, apart from the occasional such pronouncement from Hill-Wood and those from major shareholder Danny Fiszman, the board have quietly got on with life and were happy to allow their urbane vice-chairman David Dein to excel in his role as the public face of Arsenal Football Club. Now, following Dein's departure, it's as though a stone has been lifted on their world. They won't be enjoying it, or the possible implications. It's unlikely we have heard the last of Dein whom Hill-Wood has long suspected "was in league with Kroenke".

Whether Dein, the man who originally brought Arsene Wenger to Arsenal, returns in some guise must have an impact on the Frenchman's long-term future. With only a year and a half left on his contract, this severing of the umbilical chord will, at the very least, cause Wenger to seriously reflect upon his future as suddenly the club which for decades has been a model of stability turns into an arena of hostility.