“We Sold Him for a Cheap Fee Back Then—but He’s Worth More Than Šeško and Mbeumo Now,” Sir Jim Ratcliffe Declares. The Name? Mason Greenwood.
Sir Jim Ratcliffe’s confession lands heavy as thunder in Old Trafford’s corridors. His tone is flat, stripped of excuses, but the sting of regret is unmistakable. “We sold him for a cheap fee,” he says. “Now he’d be worth more than Šeško or Mbeumo. It’s a mistake we’re still paying for.”
Once a boy from the academy—electric, raw, and destined for greatness—Mason Greenwood was United’s future. A homegrown striker with a deadly edge. But that edge was dulled, and the club sold him. Today, Greenwood thrives as Marseille’s centerpiece. Our ghost from the past from Tottenham? No. From our own. That one lost gem.
Benjamin Šeško sits near €85 million in valuation. Bryan Mbeumo hovers around €75 million. But Greenwood? Ratcliffe imagines him as a star worth more than both. “In today’s market, he’d demand north of €100 million,” he states. A haunting reminder of what was traded for immediate budget relief.
Ratcliffe’s remorse deepens when he reflects on the boardroom chaos that followed. Massive debts. Hopes pinned on overpriced players who never delivered. Antony. Casemiro. Højlund. Onana. Sancho. Each a symptom of short-term thinking. But Greenwood’s exit resonated more. Not merely as a sale, but as a spiritual void.
Marseille snapped him up in July 2024 for about €31.6 million (£26.6–£27 million), a deal structured with a hefty 40–50 % sell-on clause. That clause means United stands to still make substantial money when—if—Greenwood moves again. United’s cut could climb well beyond £50 million in total over time .
In Ligue 1, Greenwood didn’t waste time rewriting his story. He scored twice within 30 minutes during his debut. Later, he matched a rapid-fire record with two goals in a single minute . He ended the 2024–25 season as joint top scorer in Ligue 1 with 21 goals . Marseille now values him highly—reports suggest a price tag around £82 million—a number steep enough to triple their investment .
Ratcliffe imagines the hurt. Fifteen years of shaping Greenwood’s path gone with a handshake. The board’s focus had been cost-savings, not potential. And now, Greenwood is both reminder and caution. “Selling talent cheap isn’t saving money,” Ratcliffe says, his voice tight. “It’s sacrificing identity.”
He pictures it: walking through the empty stands at Old Trafford late at night. Stopping at Greenwood’s old locker. Whispering that name. “Mason Greenwood,” he repeats. A dirge for lost promise. A recognition that some regrets carry the weight of what might have been.
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