I was 16, raw, and barely 5'9"—until a tackle in a Glasgow youth league match made me bite an opponent’s hand. That moment didn’t end the fight. It launched my career. This isn't fantasy—it's data. My stats? 8 appearances, 3 goals in season one. By season two? 23 games, 11 goals, and the nickname 'Big Fergu' stuck like glue. They called me violent. I called it truth. The system wanted me quiet. I gave it noise.