“Jim can’t fix this,” the sign said. Bright red letters nestled on a white background, a stark contrast in an away end at Turf Moor full of dark-coated figures in front of which they were held aloft. It was small, a couple of square metres of material, maybe. But the message to Sir Jim Ratcliffe was powerful. Remember your lane, Jim? Yeah, stick in it, pal.
As Darren Fletcher, in Manchester United blazer and red tie, strolled along the touchline, flanked by tracksuited his former teammate and friend Jonny Evans, the flag flew. And then it was gone. The protest was done.
Within five minutes the full Manchester United songbook had been aired, the first rendition of turn-of-the-decade favourite “You are my Solskjær” coming early. Next arrived an old ditty about Michael Carrick, almost as if several thousand souls suddenly panicked that they would fall foul of election impartiality requirements. All candidates must get the same attention.
It is seemingly between Carrick and Ole Gunnar Solskjær to become United’s next until-season’s-end interim head coach, manager, chief second right lieutenant of the football squadron, or whatever one wishes to title it.
Oh, and of the man currently in the dugout? “Darren Fletcher, football genius” was the natural next jukebox selection.
And so, football’s habit of kicking on faster than life itself was once again on full exhibition. Virtually the same set of folk spent Sunday serenading Ruben Amorim, their former head coach, manager, you get the gist.
Among them was Simon, 25 years a season-ticket holder, and his young son, Thomas. “As United fans, we always support the manager, always have, always will, until they go,” Simon said. “I loved the freshness about [Amorim’s] press conferences. He spoke in a way that was just different from other managers. Very honest.
“But on results he had to go. The stubbornness reminded me of David Moyes. Moyes never had a plan B. It was the same thing – rinse, repeat, rinse, repeat. It felt a little bit like that.”
Indeed, with Amorim, as with Erik ten Hag before, it was a constant cycle of turning corners but meeting dead ends, of climbing ladders before sliding down snakes. Life stuck in a hellish Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? advert break, the answer locked in and the rest of us just waiting for Chris Tarrant to reappear and confirm that, no, the Dutchman/Portuguese is not the right answer.
Yet to the outside world it felt as if Amorim’s insubordination, which culminated in his sack me or sack me rant after a 1-1 draw at Leeds (if there is an employment barrister willing to argue the concept of constructive resignation exists in law, this case would surely be the one to test it with), rather than on-field matters, determined his fate.
Mike is a Sir Alex Ferguson Stand regular. Including the days classified as “league match ticket book holder” he has held an Old Trafford season’s pass for 52 years. The “constant chopping and changing” disheartens him – Fletcher is the 11th in post since Ferguson retired – but was torn on Amorim. “It had improved and the new players added to a more enjoyable watch. [Amorim] was charismatic, which I like. But he appeared intransigent at best and devoid of a plan at worst.”
Mike applied similar sentiments to United as a whole. “The club is in a mess and the manager, coach, whatever word you want to use, is merely a piece of a jigsaw where we appear to have lost the box that shows us what the picture is.”
Seemingly none of Ratcliffe, Jason Wilcox or Omar Berrada can find said container. Has anyone asked Fred the Red if it’s in his costume box?
The noise from United supporters in the Jimmy McIlroy Stand at Burnley faded after their team fell behind early. It had just burst back into life of its own accord when Benjamin Sesko levelled and, naturally, was loudest when the same forward put them ahead. Cue more historical favourites, followed by a little Fletcher fawning. Naturally, Burnley’s equaliser negatively affected the volume.
Not quite the audition Fletcher wanted, but he gets another chance on Sunday. In any case, Thomas wants Solskjær back. “As an interim,” Simon interjected, pointing out that the Norwegian’s record when just keeping the wheel warm was excellent (14 wins, two draws, three defeats).
Ah yes, the interim. Like Solskjær once was, like Fletcher is, like Ruud van Nistelrooy, Ralf Rangnick, Ryan Giggs and Michael Carrick before them. For a club of such (former?) standing to have had more caretakers than Grange Hill is an odd look. Only Paul Scholes and Anderson to collect and all five midfielders in the 2011 Champions League final squad will have had the controls.
So, it seems an interim is poised to follow an interim? Is nothing permanent in the world any more? But what then? Simon bristles at the suggestion the job is no longer attractive. “Regardless of how tainted it may feel at the minute, if Manchester United come knocking on your door, you don’t say no. That is still the pull that we have, as a global club – and I don’t like using the term.”
Is it all a bit embarrassing? Thomas gets no ribbing, gentle or otherwise, at school because his peers are in the same boat. “As the flag says: ‘Hated, adored, never ignored,’” Mike concluded. “If we suddenly started winning leagues again, they’d mock us for something else – where our fans come from, our leaking roof, the colour of our away kit.” He makes a fair point.
