It Takes Three (Points)

Another game, another slim margin, another tired display. Only the most optimistic of Manchester United supporters would argue that the game against Aston Villa was a palatable display of brilliant football. Sloppy passing, fading forces and questionable decisions led to, at best, an unmemorable day. People have been complaining about the state of football that plagues the Red Devils. However, three points is still three points, and here’s why it’s not all doom and gloom – scrappy wins nevertheless have their purpose and place.

The most important thing is that we have six points from two games. That’s five more than we had this time last season, and that in itself is a marked improvement. Not necessarily in how United are playing, but in cold, hard-hearted statistical terms. Yes, football is a spectacle, and of course everybody wants to see their team play beautiful, flowing passes, and score mind-blowingly brilliant goals. But if flair and style were all that mattered then Arsenal would have long ended their title drought. More than anything football is a game of numbers – we see that proved to us every day with sites like Opta and Squawka, with punditry like Monday Night Football, breaking things down into percentages and niggly details. And points are that which matter in the quest for the title. I’m not saying that United fans should be happy with how the team played – far from it. What I’m saying is that no one has to be happy with how they played or how the game was won, but be happy that the game was in fact won in the first place. Playing beautifully and losing would have been far, far worse.

It’s not even that all hope is lost – although it was by no means a dazzling display, there were individual flashes of brilliance and the full backs were certainly players to watch. I feel like the reason people are getting so worked up over our lack of flair is because they’re comparing it to the image that United has built up for itself over the past twenty years, even though it might not necessarily ring true. As with all long runs of success, people begin to have particular memories of Sir Alex Ferguson’s era – the flashness of Ryan Giggs’s FA Cup semi-final goal, the gorgeous steamrollering of Ipswich (9-0) or even Arsenal (8-2). And it’s true – we did play a lot nicer in the old days. We were far more creative, dominant, all round magical to watch. But there are two things you have to remember in order to put these memories aside. The first is that, simply speaking, the calibre of players has changed. Not only do we not have Cantona in our side anymore, opponents such as Manchester City have added much firepower since they were last relegated in (as recently as) 2001. It’s simply not as easy to dominate in a much more evened out landscape, the acumen of signing players notwithstanding.

The second thing you have to remember is that Alex Ferguson’s sides were never flash first thing. Matt Busby, perhaps, concentrated on free-flowing, attacking football, but I feel that Ferguson’s sides concentrated on winning first, style second. It’s just that we were lucky to see so much style flourish during his time (and he never did anything to stymie it, for which we must also be grateful). People forget how scrappy the Bayern Munich-Manchester United final of 1999 actually was in favour of the last three minutes. Gone are the memories of the 95/96 title, which was won by a string of Cantona 1-0 wins. United has never been afraid to get scrappy when it’s necessary, and that is an important attribute of any title-winning side. It is the win that counts. It has always been the win that counts.

In fact, wins are even more important for this team because of how easily rattled their confidence is. We’ve seen this time and again; a winning streak will turn into a losing one because they cannot sustain a mentality that allows them to grind out results. The moment they lose, they collapse. This string of results is imperative, therefore, in restoring the shaken confidence (in large part introduced by Moyes). Manchester United need to get it into their heads that they can play badly and still win. The moment they restore that perpetual comeback mentality, then much of the road from here on out is eased. Perhaps the lack of confidence comes from the trophy drought (if two years can be considered a drought) – and, of course, it brings us back to the original method of winning trophies. Points.

Playing pretty will come in time. No one can or has the right to expect for our new signings to bed in easily, for a team that is almost completely overhauled to gel immediately. To play with a connection and flow you need to know and understand each other, and understanding comes with time. One of the reasons why Ferguson’s sides were so successful was because at the core of that team were players who’d known each other for years, and who throughout the 90s and early 00s proved that relationship on the pitch. Gary Neville always knew what David Beckham wanted. Paul Scholes would place balls within an inch of where Ryan Giggs was. You can’t expect players from what, four different leagues to have that fantastic a relationship from the start.

I’ve said before that big premier league teams always get stick for doing what mid-table teams are praised for: grinding out results. People should acknowledge that this is no mean feat, and it’s a hugely valuable asset that has time and time again been important in helping to win trophies. There is no shame in winning scrappily. There is a huge difference, however, between this and winning dirtily, and I think that’s what trips a lot of people up. Digging your heels in and not giving up is not something to be ashamed of. Playing ugly is different from playing dirty, and I consider it a true show of (as Brendan Rodgers would delightedly say) character and mental fortitude to do the former.

Yes, of course we need to improve. Yes, of course we need to guarantee wins. Yes, I miss our 3-0, 4-0, 5-0 games when we were simply in complete control. Who doesn’t? But there are so many factors and so much instability in the squad right now that we can’t possibly expect anything of the sort soon. We’ve got new players, we’ve got a new manager. The Fergie era is over and anyone who hopes for a return is only kidding themselves. I’m not saying that we shouldn’t be playing prettily, only that it shouldn’t be our number one priority. I’m not saying that some things really, really need to be relooked, only that we should not let this get us entirely down. I’d rather have six points from two games and questions to be answered than two points from six games and still questions to be answered. Hopefully one day this team will be playing beautiful football the Louis van Gaal way. But for now what is the most important is for Manchester United to set its sights on what it’s always been good at doing, whether gorgeous or ugly. Win.

The Tale of the Two Alexanders

If you took a bunch of Manchester United fans and asked any one of them to name a manager of Manchester United whose name was Alexander, they would no doubt point to Sir Alex Ferguson. If you asked them for two, however, they would probably be less sure of themselves. Sir Matt Busby’s actual first name – yes, Alexander – is a little facet of coincidence that adds only to the long list of similarities that have already been established. Both Scottish, both former players themselves, both massively successful with their management careers, both there for the long term, both rearing a successful crop of youngsters; Best to Beckham, Babes to Fledglings.

United have been lucky to have had so much success under these two men. Sadly, the similarities that conjure so much nostalgia also look like they will bring about much pain. Disappointingly, Sir Alex seems not to have learn from the mistakes of his predecessor; at least, not in the department of retirement.

First, a note on context. An explanation, or at least an re-imagination, of the events of 1968. United fresh from winning the Champions’ League, the most fitting remembrance of Munich ten years ago. The raw young talent of George Best, flanked by the level-headed experience of Charlton and Law. The most exciting team, the toast of England, Sir Matt Busby the architect. But he knows already that all things must come to an end; and not even one year past announces his intention to retire. There is shock as he tells the world, who cannot comprehend a Manchester United without him. There is frantic clamour for a successor. Names thrown about – all wrong, as he self-appoints a successor that few people have recognised, certainly no one expects.

Sounds familiar?

The man Sir Matt chose in the end was Wilf McGuinness, a man who on paper ticked all the right boxes. Strong family background, United in his blood. The problem was that McGuinness had no experience actually managing a proper, top-notch team. He might have known United, but that wasn’t enough when the team needed reorganising, replacing, restructuring. Certainly George Best didn’t think that he was good enough, which meant that McGuinness had to deal with both his team and the running amok of his star player.

This wasn’t helped by the overwhelming, constant presence of Busby himself. Busby was a man whose only fault was loving United too much; he found it impossible to relinquish, still keeping his old office, still being called ‘boss’. This actively undermined the authority that McGuinness already lacked. Busby should have spent time to make sure that McGuinness was groomed as the obvious successor, would establish himself in the dressing room properly. In the end, McGuinness lacked not only experience but the ability to set himself clearly apart from the players, thus losing their respect. The result is inscribed in Scouser history: two decades of Liverpool dominance as first McGuinness, and later those after him, struggled to keep up.

Gary Neville said after Ferguson’s retirement that Liverpool cannot be allowed such leeway to revive their yearsof glory. Certainly Ferguson attempted to learn from his predecessor’s mistakes. This is clear most of all in his handling of Ryan Giggs. The Giggs-Best comparisons never go beyond the talent on the football field, because Ferguson never let Giggs run away from him the way Best ran away from Busby. If only Sir Alex had learnt from Busby’s bungled handover as well.

Just like the Alexander before him, Ferguson made no plans beyond his immediate retirement (possibly underestimating his impact on the club and believing that the system was already in place for things to transition smoothly). David Moyes, as Everton manager, would probably not have had an opportunity to be groomed as Ferguson’s successor. But my feeling is that Ferguson didn’t hang around long enough to help Moyes establish himself amongst the players. He didn’t do enough to reassure the players that they were in good – perhaps not great, but still good – hands. He never really backed Moyes in public, and the promise of rewriting his biography to ‘include thoughts on Moyes’ sounds ominous. Certainly belief plays a huge part in Manchester United – not to mention football as a whole – and without instilling respect and faith in their new manager, Ferguson made the same mistakes Busby did.

The second mistake, of course, was valuing Moyes’s background and character over his abilities and experience. Like Busby, Ferguson was big on people, rather than resumes; I believe he chose Moyes because he saw something of himself in the man. Yet another working-class Scot, yet another tradition continued – ah, if only it had been that simple. Ferguson was wrong, in that he had won titles with Aberdeen, while Moyes only ever saw the mid-table mentality. Without experience it is very hard to get anything done. It was always going to be difficult to fill the shoes of Busby and Ferguson, but to throw men like McGuinness and Moyes into the hot seat is basically a recipe for self-destruction.

The last similarity, again one that looks set to doom United, is the lack of foresight in a manner of speaking. No one is denying that Ferguson was almost like a magic 8 ball, his incisive decisions regarding the class of ’92 so well-publicised already. It was generation after that which was the problem. Dryly, Paul Scholes notes in his autobiography of his central midfield successor Ryan Giggs: “and to think that all the pundits had been expecting me to be replaced by a younger man…”

While a moment of levity, Scholesy has nevertheless hit the nail right on the head – Ferguson never found an adequate replacement for his midfield fulcrum. Tom Cleverley never lived up to his potential. Nani was inconsistent at best. Further upfield, Robin van Persie, misfiring both this season and the last, looks now a dubious signing. Although the exodus of the back line was not Ferguson’s fault, one cannot help but wonder if he could have done something about that as well. Busby hung on to his squad, refusing to believe in the ever-increasing wages. Ferguson, in endearing but nevertheless flawed sentiment, could replace Scholes only with Scholes. Alan Hansen’s advice to ‘buy when you’re strong’ seems ridiculous in the hindsight of 1992, less so in 2014.

Of course, it is true that Ferguson did have some idea of replacements in mind; just that these replacements did not live up to their potential. Other things set him apart from Busby, signalling that he was aware of Busby’s shortcomings and took steps to rectify them. The moment Moyes stepped in, Ferguson stepped back, intent on giving Moyes a chance to establish himself without interference. Unfortunately, this resulted in Moyes neglecting to consult his predecessor for help, and became yet another mistake. Despite all these measures, despite asking everyone to ‘stand by your new manager’, Ferguson’s messy handover still echoes the destructive Busby of 1969, and bodes very ill for the future of Manchester United should history, as it often does, repeat itself.