Ole Gunnar Solskjaer Reveals How One Game in 1996 Changed Everything

Solskjaer, Wolves, and the Sliding-Doors Moment That Sent Him to Man Utd

For most footballers, there’s a moment—sometimes obvious, sometimes hidden in the blur of a long career—when everything tilts. A single match, a single conversation, a single twist in fate that reroutes the entire journey. For Ole Gunnar Solskjaer, that moment arrived on a calm June evening in Oslo in 1996. Norway were hosting Azerbaijan in a World Cup qualifier—not exactly the sort of blockbuster fixture that normally decides the destiny of a future Manchester United icon. And yet, as Solskjaer himself now reflects, that unremarkable night became one of the most important games of his entire career.

Almost three decades later, the former United striker and manager still remembers it vividly: the goals, the atmosphere, the sudden shift from relative anonymity in Norway to becoming a target of two English clubs—one the biggest club on the planet, the other a gritty second-tier side hunting for a goalscorer. It was a sliding-doors moment that could have dropped Solskjaer into the Championship with Wolves, rather than into the Premier League spotlight with Sir Alex Ferguson’s Manchester United.

Speaking to BBC Sport’s Kelly Somers, Solskjaer opened up about the whirlwind that followed that match, how quickly the transfer moved, and the strange coincidence that brought Jim Ryan, Sir Alex Ferguson’s trusted assistant, into the same stadium at the same time as Wolves boss Mark McGhee. What happened next is now part of United folklore—though it very nearly never happened at all.

Ole Gunnar Solskjaer 1999 UEFA Champions League Final

How Norway vs Azerbaijan Became the Match That Changed Solskjaer’s Life

On paper, a 1998 World Cup qualifier between Norway and Azerbaijan hardly screams career-defining drama. But for Solskjaer, that night in 1996 turned into a showcase of his instinct, movement and clinical finishing—the very traits that would later make him a cult hero at Old Trafford.

Starting up front alongside Frank Strandli, Solskjaer found the sort of rhythm every striker dreams of. Norway were expected to dominate, but Solskjaer went beyond the script. He scored twice in a 5–0 win, making intelligent runs, linking play with ease and finishing with the kind of cool authority that would become his trademark.

What he didn’t know was that in the stands sat Jim Ryan, dispatched from Manchester to scout centre-back Ronny Johnsen. Ryan’s priority was defence, not attack. But football has a funny way of rearranging priorities. Sitting right next to him was Mark McGhee—the Wolverhampton Wanderers manager—also there on business, though of a very different sort. Wolves needed a striker. And on that particular evening, Solskjaer was impossible to ignore.

Ryan and McGhee chatted casually—two British football men doing what football men do: comparing notes, sharing impressions, and watching a future Premier League star come alive on the pitch below.

Ryan, realising Wolves might move quickly, called Ferguson that same night. His message was simple: “I think I’ve found one—and he won’t be expensive.” At £1.5 million, Solskjaer wasn’t the marquee name United were famously chasing that summer. Ferguson had his sights set on Alan Shearer—the biggest striker in England. But Shearer chose Newcastle, and Solskjaer, the quiet forward from Molde, would become the unexpected signing who defined the club’s late-90s era.

The Transfer That Happened Almost Overnight

Solskjaer recounts how rapidly everything unfolded after that match. The interest, the calls, the negotiations—it all moved at a pace he could barely process.

“Brilliant. Absolutely top,” he said of the whirlwind. “But you’re never 100% sure until you sign the deal.”

Before what would become his final match for Molde, Solskjaer told his manager Åge Hareide that he planned a little farewell gesture. If he scored, he’d throw his shirt into the crowd and run straight off the pitch. Hareide, half-amused and half-horrified, said he couldn’t—but if he had to, at least wait until the final 10 minutes.

Solskjaer did exactly that. He scored Molde’s fifth goal in a 5–1 win, tossed the shirt into the stands, and took off—leaving his team to stumble through the last few minutes with ten men because they didn’t even have a substitute ready.

The media storm arrived instantly. Reporters camped outside his apartment. Cameras hovered everywhere. Call after call came in. And yet, Solskjaer—who had been playing in front of barely 50 spectators just 18 months earlier with Clausenengen—handled it with a calmness that would become one of his defining traits.

“It was a big step up in attention,” he said. “But I think I’ve been OK in handling those situations.”

Kasimpasa v Besiktas – Turkish Super League

United Fans Expected Shearer—They Got Solskjaer Instead

United supporters of the era will remember clearly that the summer of 1996 revolved around one headline: Alan Shearer. Many expected him to arrive at Old Trafford. When he chose Newcastle instead, some wondered who United would sign next.

What they got was the “Baby-Faced Assassin”—a nickname that would become as iconic as his No. 20 shirt.

Solskjaer’s impact was instant. He scored on his Premier League debut. He brought energy, intelligence, and a predatory instinct that made him the ultimate super-sub. And, of course, he scored the goal that defined an entire generation of United fans: the dramatic stoppage-time winner against Bayern Munich in the 1999 Champions League final. It was the spark that completed the Treble—still the most famous moment in the club’s modern history.

From Striker to Manager, and What Comes Next

After more than a decade as a player and almost three years as manager, Solskjaer’s relationship with Manchester United spans eras. He weathered highs and lows, storms and celebrations, but his legacy is firmly intact. Most recently, he managed Beşiktaş in Turkey, though his spell ended after eight months when the club missed out on European qualification.

Still, Solskjaer insists he’s not done with management. “I’m interested in returning,” he said—never flashy, never boastful, just quietly determined, the same way he was as a player.

And perhaps that shouldn’t surprise anyone. After all, his entire career was shaped by being ready at the right moment—whether that moment was a loose ball in the Camp Nou in 1999 or a low-key World Cup qualifier in Oslo in 1996.

A Career Defined by a Single Night—But Built on So Much More

What makes Solskjaer’s story so compelling isn’t just the coincidence of scouts or the domino effect of a couple of goals against Azerbaijan. It’s how easily the story could have been different. He could’ve gone to Wolves. He could’ve ended up lost in the shuffle of English football’s lower leagues. He could’ve remained a footnote rather than a headline.

Instead, he became a Manchester United legend.

His story is a reminder—one we often forget—that football careers don’t always hinge on the biggest matches or the brightest lights. Sometimes, destiny is decided in a quiet stadium, on a routine Tuesday, when nobody expects anything magical to happen.

Except it does.

And for Ole Gunnar Solskjaer, it changed everything.