Liverpool and Manchester United supporters have drawn battlelines through Sir Alex Ferguson's autobiography.
The retired manager wrote that Steven Gerrard wasn't a "top, top player".
Red Devils fans agreed, claiming the Liverpool player was just a "top player" at best, but he was certainly "a player". They do acknowledge that Gerrard was a player.
The Anfield faithful are outraged. Of course, Gerrard is a "top, top player," they cried. In fact, he's a top, top, top, top player.
He's the Four Tops. He should be singing Reach Out, I'll Be There (a cultural reference for the older readers. I can't make Miley Cyrus analogies every week. That said, Ferguson's autobiography couldn't be more of a wrecking ball if he was holding it while sitting naked on top of a... wait, I'm doing it again.)
But the debate has raged. In Manchester, Gerrard is not a top player to rival Paul Scholes or Roy Keane. In Liverpool, he has more tops than a crate of bottled beer.
Clearly, it is the season to be jolly and sell some autobiographies.
With Christmas coming, sporting personalities are penning memoirs faster than you can say: "I promise to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing at all about Manchester United shareholders, JP McManus and John Magnier and the ownership of the racehorse Rock Of Gibraltar."
OK, that's not strictly true. Ferguson devoted two entire pages to a public row that destroyed friendships, destabilised the club and paved the way for the Glazers to take control of United.
In fairness, Ferguson had little space left in the autobiography after spending half the book focusing on Mark Bosnich's diet.
If the old saying, 'you are what you eat' is true, then Bosnich was steak, chips and mushy peas and a Chinese takeaway.
Ferguson admitted he failed with Bosnich. The overweight goalkeeper might have saved everything if his manager had hung a couple of kebabs in the goal's top corners.
Still, it's hard not to imagine passages of the autobiography reading like this: "So, as I said, my row over that racehorse's profits almost destroyed the club, but did I tell you what Bosnich used to eat for breakfast? He never used cutlery. He used a shovel and a pitchfork. I was going to bring my prized racehorse to training one day, but I was worried Bozza might eat it."
Ferguson has also reigniting old feuds with former players. His criticism of Roy Keane was unwise, not because he was disloyal but because Keane is nuttier than a fruitcake.
Keane could not only pick a fight in an empty room, he would batter the room and accuse it of being paid 120 grand a week to look good for 20 minutes against Tottenham. Then he would accuse the empty room of not even being Irish.
Ferguson even took on one of the game's untouchables, accusing David Beckham of wasting his talent at LA Galaxy.
That's just not true. Beckham made at least - at least - three appearances on the Ellen DeGeneres show.
Criticising Beckham is like picking on a pretty girl with pigtails or making fun of Mary Poppins.
He's practically perfect in every way. He was going to respond to Ferguson's attack, but it's hard to conduct an interview and walk on water at the same time.
Of course, Ferguson isn't alone in recounting a few tales for Christmas. Harry Redknapp has also released his autobiography.
Apparently, his beloved Portsmouth fans can't buy the book as they're all penniless after trying to save the club he left behind.
He doesn't even offer tips on how to get your pet dog to stash your cash in an off-shore tax haven, allegedly.
There must be a liberal use of the word "allegedly" in Redknapp's autobiography. If publishers had removed all mentions of "allegedly" and "terrific", the book would've been 50 words long.
Redknapp loves a "triffic" player, especially "a top, top triffic" player.
However, he may not consider Gerrard a "top, top triffic" player after the England captain publicly denied sending Redknapp a text that said he hoped the manager got the England job.
Gerrard didn't even say he was a "top, top, triffic" manager.
Former West Ham manager Billy Bonds has also challenged the veracity of Redknapp's autobiography.
Some are suggesting that the book is the finest work of fiction since Alice in Wonderland.
But that's a little unfair. One is a fantasy world that messes around with logic, and speaks in riddles and nonsensical language.
And the other is Alice in Wonderland
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