On an evening where Old Trafford harboured not only a ravenous collective, but their hopes and aspirations in earnest, Manchester United dispatched off their rivals from Yorkshire with thumping conviction. Raphaël Varane’s unveiling merely served as hor d’oeuvres that go rhythmically with a pint of Stella Artois.
A 5-1 victory against Leeds United may not be vastly contrasting from a 6-2 from last season, but God, did it feel fresher, more poised, almost seductive. Paul Pogba thwacked away a macabre portrayal, shrouded in contract talks and a longing for more of many things, as each blade of grass his passes caressed spoke of a state of utter control. The space was his to transform into sublimity. Star man Bruno Fernandes ascended to lofty expectations with panache. Harry Maguire and Victor Lindelöf were unfazed by Luke Ayling’s strike as they stood riveted, few of many beings fastened into one as they titillated fans in an all too soothing fashion.
What’s telling is ‘why’? An astute showing, yes. One that could well be bemoaned as an outlier in hindsight. So what’s different?
A healthy amount of soul-searching abated the perception of a perennial titan. It was necessary. The unremitting brilliance of the club under Alex Ferguson seared lofty expectations onto the very fabric of football. Since then, managers were consigned to embark on an arduous quest for revival – the chosen ones, the special ones, the eccentric ones; none worked. Underwhelming signings, incompetence at the helm, and a flat-out disparate relationship between the brass and the fans led to a subtle surrender to the truth – Manchester United are ways away from the dogma. Dogma was dogma no more.
What was the dogma, however? Greatness isn’t the answer, it is a mere consequence of an identity transcending generations. Players took varying winding roads to a similar ideology. The resulting cohesion supplemented the right decisions – shrewd business along with a healthy academy. The genesis of their greatness demanded a sole focus on a common summit, something possible only when all are on the same mountain.
Manchester United and its players share kinship as the chastised. De Gea, once touted as the saviour of a struggling side has cut a sorry figure in recent times. Questions regarding Paul Pogba and his place in the team have plagued his second stint at the club since the days of Jose Mourinho. Harry Maguire finds himself as the butt of endless quips. Luke Shaw was ostracised under Jose Mourinho with the latter never shying away from fanning the flame to this day. The forgotten, the damned, the ‘just-not-good-enough’s; all led by a man who has had his acumen questioned seemingly on a weekly basis in Ole Gunnar Solskjaer.
In evanescent times where money is quite simply the language rather than a means to an end, romance is hard to find. It is what we live for in sports. A respite from the harsh realities of the fleeting nature of life. Manchester United have yet to win silverware under the Norwegian; yet there is something about a manager’s tranquil milieu as his players learn to face adversity with equanimity that makes you.. feel. An institution in Manchester United was treated as such until it wasn’t possible to pretend anymore. They have had to learn and grow, accepting their shortcomings with rage and fire only to emerge wiser.
Perhaps it was necessary. A slice of humble pie turned into a few. Perhaps it was necessary for them to be cast aside and looked down upon for them to harness a sense of agency. Perhaps… They are ready.
