Unrecognisable Man United legend who urinated on team-mates and drank a £200 bottle of champagne with a homeless person during 12-day bender has forged a very different path in life
It was May 26, 1999; arguably the most famous night in Manchester United's history. An extraordinary stoppage-time turnaround had seen Sir Alex Ferguson's side claim victory over Bayern Munich in the Champions League final, and no player loomed larger than David May.
Not in the heat of the contest itself, you understand. The United defender, playing second fiddle to Ronny Johnsen and Jaap Stam, never made it off the bench that night in Barcelona.
But once the dust settled - once the famous treble of Premier League, FA Cup and European Cup silverware was complete and the celebrations could begin - May was everywhere.
There was May, head and shoulders above his team-mates, leaning against David Beckham's shoulder to get a hand on the trophy. May, front and centre, flanked by the match-winning goalscorers Ole Gunnar Solskjær and Teddy Sheringham, as the team posed for photos. May orchestrating the United faithful for a joyful rendition of Sit Down, the 1991 hit by the Mancunian band James. The understudy had taken centre stage.
'He managed to ensure himself a spot in history by picking the best spot to get in all the photographs when the cup was lifted,' fellow United defender Jaap Stam recalled with wry amusement in his autobiography Head to Head.
'Somehow he got into frame for every picture taken that night, even though he didn't play. It wasn't just us who noticed.
Former Manchester United defender David May, top centre, is seen rising above his team-mates after the club's dramatic win over Bayern Munich in the 1999 Champions league final
May, now 54, struggled with injuries during his Old Trafford career but won his share of trophies and became a noted prankster in the dressing room
From left to right, Nicky Butt, Teddy Sheringham and David Beckham celebrate with May, far right, after United's 3-2 win over Juventus in the 1999 Champions League semi-finals in Turin
'A few months later an English magazine did a mock-up of the most important pictures in history and stuck David's head in every shot. It was hilarious and we made sure he saw it.'
For May, who is now 54, it was all part and parcel of his reputation as the dressing- room prankster - an unenviable role, you might imagine, in a squad that included hardened senior pros like Roy Keane, Gary Neville and Stam.
'I’d urinate down team mates’ legs in the shower, cut the laces out of Nicky Butt’s new trainers or put Deep Heat in the kitman’s shorts,' said May, who made 85 appearances for United between 1994 and 2003.
'And some saw my biggest joke as getting in most of the photos when United won the European Cup.
'I always thought that if I got near the trophy then I’d be in the pictures. I saw the trophy on a chair and thought, "I’m having that." So I picked it up and the rest is history. Although I didn’t play in the final, I was proud of my contribution to the treble.'
In an injury-ravaged season, that contribution came at some key moments. May played only nine games in 1998/99, but he started both the final-day win over Tottenham Hotspur that secured the league title and the following weekend's FA Cup final victory against Newcastle.
David May hoists the Premier League trophy after scoring in the 3-0 victory over Middlesbrough that secured Manchester United's 1995/96 title win
Since retiring from football in 2006, May has dabbled in the wine business, worked as a pundit for MUTV, and become a keen fisherman. He is seen here in Thailand after catching a big carp
From left to right: Ronny Johnsen, Teddy Sheringham, Peter Schmeichel, Dwight Yorke and, of course, David May, parade the European Cup on the Nou Camp pitch in 1999
'He was able to nip in and sample two memorable occasions,' wrote Stam. 'Both must have felt like massive bonuses to him.'
What was perhaps overlooked in the aftermath of the Nou Camp, however, amid all the good-natured ribbing about May's prominence in the celebrations, is that it was the moment, rather the medal, that mattered to him.
'That Champions League medal, truthfully, means nothing to to me,' May recently told the Greatness on Demand podcast. 'The game was unbelievable, but the actual medal doesn't mean anything, because I was injured, I never kicked a ball in the Champions League.'
As that remark suggests, there was nothing of the big-time Charlie about May - but plenty of the winning mentality synonymous with Keane, Beckham, Peter Schmeichel and the rest of that remarkable squad.
For that, May had his humble upbringing in Oldham, Lancashire, to thank - and in particular his father, a former policeman who might have become a player himself had his own dad been able to take him to training after a successful trial at Sheffield United.
It was May's father who drilled home the basic principles of right and wrong; who nurtured his son's ability without ever indulging it; who kept him on the straight and narrow when the inevitable teenage temptations arrived.
From left to right: Lee Sharpe, Denis Irwin, Ryan Giggs, May and Gary Pallister celebrate after defeating Liverpool to win the 1996 FA Cup at Wembley
Sir Alex Ferguson monitored May's progress for several years before signing him for United
'My dad was brilliant,' said May, recalling how his father would gently intervene when he wanted to go out with his mates of a Thursday or Friday night. '[He would say]: If you want to do it, do it. But if you want to get there, sacrifice.'
May, who has endeavoured to instill the same principles in his own children, required no further encouragement. Football-obsessed from an early age, he regularly attended games at Manchester City, Oldham, Bury and Rochdale - but, curiously, not United - and had absolute conviction that he could forge a career in the game.
Unlike his two older brothers, who were both talented players in their own right, he succeeded - by putting in the hard miles that he knew would give him the best opportunity to reach the very highest level.
'Where I lived there used to be a yard, and it sounds stupid, but every day after school I'd be in that yard, kicking a ball against a wall on my own, left foot, right foot, go up close to it, heading the ball,' said May, who eventually graduated to playing under a street light.
'Hard work doesn't cost anything.'
In 1988, that hard work paid off in the form of a first professional contract with Blackburn Rovers. May, who was 18 at the time, would go on to feature 123 times for the Ewood Park outfit, establishing a reputation as a strong centre-half who was good on the ball and read the game well.
Even so, he was taken aback when the former United striker Mark Robins, then playing for Norwich, sidled up to him in the bar after a game at Carrow Road and mentioned that Les Kershaw, the Old Trafford club's chief scout, had been watching him.
'Good one,' replied May.
Before long, though, Kershaw came up and introduced himself.
'What's happening with your contract?' he asked. 'Alex Ferguson wants to sign you. He'll ring you next week.'
Sure enough, the call came. Ferguson revealed that May had long been on his radar and was now wanted as a replacement for club stalwart Steve Bruce.
'I want you to replace Brucie,' said Ferguson. 'We've watched you since you were a 14-, 15-year-old. We've always watched you, we've always kept an eye on you. We know your background. How do you fancy signing for United?'
May did not need asking twice. although the eventual manner of his departure from Blackburn left a bitter taste.
'They accused me of being greedy in contract negotiations,' said May, who was on £500 a week at the time and wanted less than half of Alan Shearer's £9,000 weekly wage.
There was also the small matter of his team-mate David Batty, Leeds-born and no great lover of Manchester United, calling him in his hotel room at 6am during an away trip to Spurs.
'Scum, scum, scum,' Batty repeated down the line. Similar calls followed at 15-minute intervals, until May unplugged the phone. He would not look back.
Over the eight seasons that followed, May's frequent injury problems did not prevent him from amassing an impressive trophy haul. He won two Premier League winners' medals, a pair of FA Cups - and also, of course, the Champions League.
Initially daunted by the stature of the players with whom he was suddenly surrounded, May gradually found his feet and became a noted practical joker.
'I filled a bin with water and leaned it against Paul Parker’s door,' he once recounted. 'Then I knocked on it and ran away. He opened the door and the water flooded in. Even though I denied it, Parks knew it was me.'
But there would be a price to pay for all the trophies and the high jinks, and that moment of reckoning came when his contract expired in 2003. Left to contemplate the conclusion of his Old Trafford career, May was left staring into an abyss.
'I struggled, big time,' said May. 'Leaving United, I thought my f***ing world had ended.'
After a leaving-do at the Living Room, an upmarket watering hole on Deansgate frequented by the great and the good, May found himself alone, clutching a £300 bottle of champagne as he made his way home.
'What have you got there, pal?' asked a homeless man on a park bench.
'A bottle of champagne,' replied May.
'Are we opening it?' enquired the stranger.
'Yeah, go on then, f*** it,' said May, who proceeded to share the bottle with his newfound friend before embarking on a 12-day bender that would culminate with him falling tearfully into his wife's arms.
May would go on to finish his career at Burnley, where he played for a season before winding down his career at non-league Bacup Borough.
He has since dabbled in the wine trade, worked for MUTV, United's in-house pay-television channel and become an avid fisherman. Through it all, his personal mantra has changed little since that glorious night at the Nou Camp.
'Never accept defeat,' says May. 'If you want it, go and get it.'
Not in the heat of the contest itself, you understand. The United defender, playing second fiddle to Ronny Johnsen and Jaap Stam, never made it off the bench that night in Barcelona.
But once the dust settled - once the famous treble of Premier League, FA Cup and European Cup silverware was complete and the celebrations could begin - May was everywhere.
There was May, head and shoulders above his team-mates, leaning against David Beckham's shoulder to get a hand on the trophy. May, front and centre, flanked by the match-winning goalscorers Ole Gunnar Solskjær and Teddy Sheringham, as the team posed for photos. May orchestrating the United faithful for a joyful rendition of Sit Down, the 1991 hit by the Mancunian band James. The understudy had taken centre stage.
'He managed to ensure himself a spot in history by picking the best spot to get in all the photographs when the cup was lifted,' fellow United defender Jaap Stam recalled with wry amusement in his autobiography Head to Head.
'Somehow he got into frame for every picture taken that night, even though he didn't play. It wasn't just us who noticed.
Former Manchester United defender David May, top centre, is seen rising above his team-mates after the club's dramatic win over Bayern Munich in the 1999 Champions league final
May, now 54, struggled with injuries during his Old Trafford career but won his share of trophies and became a noted prankster in the dressing room
From left to right, Nicky Butt, Teddy Sheringham and David Beckham celebrate with May, far right, after United's 3-2 win over Juventus in the 1999 Champions League semi-finals in Turin
'A few months later an English magazine did a mock-up of the most important pictures in history and stuck David's head in every shot. It was hilarious and we made sure he saw it.'
For May, who is now 54, it was all part and parcel of his reputation as the dressing- room prankster - an unenviable role, you might imagine, in a squad that included hardened senior pros like Roy Keane, Gary Neville and Stam.
'I’d urinate down team mates’ legs in the shower, cut the laces out of Nicky Butt’s new trainers or put Deep Heat in the kitman’s shorts,' said May, who made 85 appearances for United between 1994 and 2003.
'And some saw my biggest joke as getting in most of the photos when United won the European Cup.
'I always thought that if I got near the trophy then I’d be in the pictures. I saw the trophy on a chair and thought, "I’m having that." So I picked it up and the rest is history. Although I didn’t play in the final, I was proud of my contribution to the treble.'
In an injury-ravaged season, that contribution came at some key moments. May played only nine games in 1998/99, but he started both the final-day win over Tottenham Hotspur that secured the league title and the following weekend's FA Cup final victory against Newcastle.
David May hoists the Premier League trophy after scoring in the 3-0 victory over Middlesbrough that secured Manchester United's 1995/96 title win
Since retiring from football in 2006, May has dabbled in the wine business, worked as a pundit for MUTV, and become a keen fisherman. He is seen here in Thailand after catching a big carp
From left to right: Ronny Johnsen, Teddy Sheringham, Peter Schmeichel, Dwight Yorke and, of course, David May, parade the European Cup on the Nou Camp pitch in 1999
'He was able to nip in and sample two memorable occasions,' wrote Stam. 'Both must have felt like massive bonuses to him.'
What was perhaps overlooked in the aftermath of the Nou Camp, however, amid all the good-natured ribbing about May's prominence in the celebrations, is that it was the moment, rather the medal, that mattered to him.
'That Champions League medal, truthfully, means nothing to to me,' May recently told the Greatness on Demand podcast. 'The game was unbelievable, but the actual medal doesn't mean anything, because I was injured, I never kicked a ball in the Champions League.'
As that remark suggests, there was nothing of the big-time Charlie about May - but plenty of the winning mentality synonymous with Keane, Beckham, Peter Schmeichel and the rest of that remarkable squad.
For that, May had his humble upbringing in Oldham, Lancashire, to thank - and in particular his father, a former policeman who might have become a player himself had his own dad been able to take him to training after a successful trial at Sheffield United.
It was May's father who drilled home the basic principles of right and wrong; who nurtured his son's ability without ever indulging it; who kept him on the straight and narrow when the inevitable teenage temptations arrived.
From left to right: Lee Sharpe, Denis Irwin, Ryan Giggs, May and Gary Pallister celebrate after defeating Liverpool to win the 1996 FA Cup at Wembley
Sir Alex Ferguson monitored May's progress for several years before signing him for United
'My dad was brilliant,' said May, recalling how his father would gently intervene when he wanted to go out with his mates of a Thursday or Friday night. '[He would say]: If you want to do it, do it. But if you want to get there, sacrifice.'
May, who has endeavoured to instill the same principles in his own children, required no further encouragement. Football-obsessed from an early age, he regularly attended games at Manchester City, Oldham, Bury and Rochdale - but, curiously, not United - and had absolute conviction that he could forge a career in the game.
Unlike his two older brothers, who were both talented players in their own right, he succeeded - by putting in the hard miles that he knew would give him the best opportunity to reach the very highest level.
'Where I lived there used to be a yard, and it sounds stupid, but every day after school I'd be in that yard, kicking a ball against a wall on my own, left foot, right foot, go up close to it, heading the ball,' said May, who eventually graduated to playing under a street light.
'Hard work doesn't cost anything.'
In 1988, that hard work paid off in the form of a first professional contract with Blackburn Rovers. May, who was 18 at the time, would go on to feature 123 times for the Ewood Park outfit, establishing a reputation as a strong centre-half who was good on the ball and read the game well.
Even so, he was taken aback when the former United striker Mark Robins, then playing for Norwich, sidled up to him in the bar after a game at Carrow Road and mentioned that Les Kershaw, the Old Trafford club's chief scout, had been watching him.
'Good one,' replied May.
Before long, though, Kershaw came up and introduced himself.
'What's happening with your contract?' he asked. 'Alex Ferguson wants to sign you. He'll ring you next week.'
Sure enough, the call came. Ferguson revealed that May had long been on his radar and was now wanted as a replacement for club stalwart Steve Bruce.
'I want you to replace Brucie,' said Ferguson. 'We've watched you since you were a 14-, 15-year-old. We've always watched you, we've always kept an eye on you. We know your background. How do you fancy signing for United?'
May did not need asking twice. although the eventual manner of his departure from Blackburn left a bitter taste.
'They accused me of being greedy in contract negotiations,' said May, who was on £500 a week at the time and wanted less than half of Alan Shearer's £9,000 weekly wage.
There was also the small matter of his team-mate David Batty, Leeds-born and no great lover of Manchester United, calling him in his hotel room at 6am during an away trip to Spurs.
'Scum, scum, scum,' Batty repeated down the line. Similar calls followed at 15-minute intervals, until May unplugged the phone. He would not look back.
Over the eight seasons that followed, May's frequent injury problems did not prevent him from amassing an impressive trophy haul. He won two Premier League winners' medals, a pair of FA Cups - and also, of course, the Champions League.
Initially daunted by the stature of the players with whom he was suddenly surrounded, May gradually found his feet and became a noted practical joker.
'I filled a bin with water and leaned it against Paul Parker’s door,' he once recounted. 'Then I knocked on it and ran away. He opened the door and the water flooded in. Even though I denied it, Parks knew it was me.'
But there would be a price to pay for all the trophies and the high jinks, and that moment of reckoning came when his contract expired in 2003. Left to contemplate the conclusion of his Old Trafford career, May was left staring into an abyss.
'I struggled, big time,' said May. 'Leaving United, I thought my f***ing world had ended.'
After a leaving-do at the Living Room, an upmarket watering hole on Deansgate frequented by the great and the good, May found himself alone, clutching a £300 bottle of champagne as he made his way home.
'What have you got there, pal?' asked a homeless man on a park bench.
'A bottle of champagne,' replied May.
'Are we opening it?' enquired the stranger.
'Yeah, go on then, f*** it,' said May, who proceeded to share the bottle with his newfound friend before embarking on a 12-day bender that would culminate with him falling tearfully into his wife's arms.
May would go on to finish his career at Burnley, where he played for a season before winding down his career at non-league Bacup Borough.
He has since dabbled in the wine trade, worked for MUTV, United's in-house pay-television channel and become an avid fisherman. Through it all, his personal mantra has changed little since that glorious night at the Nou Camp.
'Never accept defeat,' says May. 'If you want it, go and get it.'
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