Barcelona and Wembley are such emotive names to Ferguson that there will inevitably be speculation of his retiring if he does vanquish Pep Guardiola's elegant side, equalling Bob Paisley's three European Cups with Liverpool (one of which was achieved at Wembley) while paying homage to Sir Matt Busby, whose finest hour, make that two hours, came in north-west London.
For lovers of sporting symmetry, a triumphant Ferguson would surely shake Guardiola's hand, console Messi, climb those steps, chat to Michel Platini, snub those pesky ban-issuing FA busybodies, clasp the trophy, and head off into the sunset via a party in London. Surely there would be little to beat bowing out with the European Cup at the home of football? Some script. Some ending.
Predicting Ferguson's retirement date is a fool's game. If he lost, and trying to orchestrate the downfall of mighty Barcelona is the Iron Man of footballing challenges, then he would surely go again, refusing to step down on a low note. He knows that some of his players, such as the Da Silva twins, Javier Hernández, Anderson and Wayne Rooney, have yet to reach their peak. He has already begun the process of finding replacements for the likes of Edwin van der Sar. Nobody presses the refresh button better than Ferguson.
After London calling on May 28, Ferguson must ponder "should I stay or should I go"? An opinionated figure will sit on each shoulder, making contrasting arguments. One will mention that Jock Stein died in the job, suffering a heart attack at Ninian Park after a Scotland played Wales.
The other will raise the image of his father. In supporting various cancer charities, Ferguson has spoken about what befell his father. "My father was 47 when he got bowel cancer and had to have a colostomy,'' said Ferguson. "We lived in Govan. We had no bathroom and just had a metal sink for washing yourself. When my career as a footballer started to take off we got them into a nice apartment flat – it was 20 floors up and a bit of a climb if the lifts weren't working. When my dad retired [at 65], one week later the cancer came back in his lungs and he died a year later."
If there can be any conclusion into this look at somebody's private influences, it is that there can be no conclusion. Retirement could be a boon for Ferguson or a curse.
Enough gloom-mongering. He is too fired up to ease up. Joyous acquaintance with a third European Cup would surely motivate him to chase another. He talks regularly about United's tally from 1968, 1999 and 2008 as being a poor return for a club of such global stature.
Maybe he is on private homage to the Olympic movement. His Champions League finals have all come in Olympic cities: Barcelona, Moscow, Rome and now London. Next year's is in Munich. Bring on whoever.
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