There was a time, back in the days when people still bought newspapers, when the tabloids had a handy little graphic they could wheel out whenever Manchester United were in crisis. It was the club badge, but with a great big crack running down the middle of it. A simple visual shorthand. United were broken. United were divided. United were falling apart.
Usually these images came out of the woodwork when United lost, like, two games in a row in the midst of a season which was generally all-conquering. My mate Chris and I used to love spotting them as it showed just how desperate the rest of the world was to discern just the smallest sign of fallibility in the Reds.
I don’t know whether they still do it: I haven’t bought a newspaper for years, to my shame. But I suspect that, if they do, whoever is responsible for the graphics department at _The Sun_ or _The Mirror_ has been working overtime recently and the cracks really mean something. The ABUs aren’t clutching at straws any more. The crack in the badge must be wider than ever. This season, what started out as a hairline fissure has become a great gaping chasm. The Grand Canyon, only with considerably less hope of finding a way across.
We’d been allowed to forget about it for a little while, at least. The international break provided a welcome distraction from the business of supporting the Red Devils, not least because we could devote our attention to revelling in Manchester Cheaty’s shame. What would their badge look like now, I wonder? A crack as wide as Jim Royle’s bum crack? The Grand Canyon wouldn’t be big enough. The sham bastards.
But all good things must come to an end. The international break finished, United returned, and so did the familiar feeling of dread. Saturday’s performance against Tottenham had been dreadful. Tuesday’s trip to Atlético Madrid looked like an opportunity for United to develop some exciting new methods of disappointing us (as a mate said on a WhatsApp thread which they are – I’m sure – getting increasingly wary of using for fear they see what they’ve written on this blog). I was anticipating a battering.
And after 53 seconds, it appeared my expectations were going to be met. Michael Carrick had left Harry Maguire out of the starting eleven, which at least suggested we might be able to play a higher defensive line without worrying about his lack of pace being exposed. Unfortunately, the high line was exposed anyway, almost immediately, and Pablo Barrios gave Atlético the lead before we’d had a chance to settle into our seats.
Here we go again, as Stakka Bo sang in 1993 when United were boss. For a while, back in 2026, it looked as though we might not get anywhere near the ball. Atlético were keeping possession with ease; United by comparison couldn’t hold it. Bruno Fernandes was giving it away. Carlos Baleba was giving it away. Everyone seemed determined to have a turn.
And yet, strangely enough, United weren’t actually that bad. That might sound like damning with faint praise, and perhaps it is. But given what we’d witnessed against Tottenham, and given the quality of the opposition, I thought we showed considerably more fight than I had expected. We fahkin ran around a bit more, which would delight Harry Redknapp. We created chances. There were moments when it looked as though we might actually get something out of the game.
The problem, as ever, was taking those chances. We were wasteful in front of goal, and at this level you simply can’t afford to be. Bryan Mbeumo, Marcus Rashford and Bruno all had opportunities, but none could provide the finish we needed. The lack of a proper number nine continues to haunt us, just as the lack of reliable options at full-back continues to leave us exposed. Hmmmmmmmmmmmm.
Ayden Heaven was again being asked to do a job out of position because, surprise, surprise, Luke Shaw was unavailable. Shaw’s inability to stay fit is hardly breaking news, yet somehow we still find ourselves in a position where his absence creates a problem we don’t seem properly equipped to solve. Hmmmmmmmmmmmm. It’s almost as though someone should have thought about that in the summer. Hmmmmmmmmmmm.
There was controversy, too, because apparently United aren’t allowed to have a straightforward defeat anymore. Just before half-time, Atlético thought they’d scored a second, only for VAR to rule it out for a handball by Marcos Llorente in the build-up. I wasn’t convinced: it certainly didn’t look like the sort of handball you’d expect to see penalised in the Premier League. Still, we’ll take it. Then, in the second half, Leny Yoro was sent off, and I thought the officials had got that decision wrong as well. Yoro looked absolutely gutted, understandably so. He’d enjoyed a good international break with France, had been one of the few positives against Tottenham, and was looking promising again in Madrid. It was a ridiculous way for his evening to end.
The irony is that I thought the two VAR decisions were almost the wrong way round. The one that went in our favour shouldn’t necessarily have done, and the one that went against us was incredibly harsh.
Once we were down to ten men, the task became considerably harder, and Ademola Lookman’s second goal settled matters. Atlético won 2-0, United lost again, and the cracked badge made another appearance in my imagination.
But here’s the thing: I wasn’t especially upset about the result. Losing away to a good Atlético Madrid side is hardly the end of the world. We were good enough to have taken a point, and there were encouraging signs in the performance. Baleba, for example, is a player I like the look of, even if he gave the ball away too often. He needs five games at least before we start passing judgement on him. Andrey Santos is another player who needs time. Even Youri Tielemans looked better in a more advanced role.
No, the real problem with Tuesday night wasn’t what happened during the 90 minutes, it was what happened afterwards. Lisandro Martínez’s interview with Amazon Prime was extraordinary. Watching it, I immediately had that sinking feeling. Here we go again, here we go-go-go (Stakka Bo). Another Manchester United crisis. Another round of public recriminations. Another few days of everyone arguing about who’s to blame while the team continues to struggle.
Martínez didn’t exactly mince his words. He questioned the club’s recruitment, said he expected more from those above the players and singled out Jason Wilcox, United’s director of football. It was one of the most remarkable interviews I’ve seen from a United player in years. You’d probably have to go back to Roy Keane questioning the quality of his teammates after the Bayern Munich game in 2001 for something comparable. But there was an important difference: Keane was questioning the players around him. Martínez was questioning the people above him.
And, uncomfortable though it might be for those in charge, he has a point. The problems at United go far beyond whoever happens to be sitting in the manager’s chair. We have spent years lurching from one partial rebuild to another, forever in transition, forever trying to repair the mistakes of the previous regime. Every summer, our rivals seem to take another step forward while we struggle to address the same glaring weaknesses. The debt, the poor decisions, the wasted money and the repeated failures of recruitment mean that whoever manages United is already falling between the cracks before he’s even started.
We were short of full-backs. We were short of reliable goalscorers. We knew these things. Yet here we are, months into another season, still talking about them. It’s difficult not to sympathise with Martínez’s frustration, but sympathy only goes so far. Because Martínez himself needs to take a long, hard look in the mirror. He’s been directly responsible for several goals we’ve conceded this season, including mistakes against Tottenham on Saturday. He hasn’t been playing well enough to absolve himself of responsibility for the situation we’re in.
You can be right about the bigger picture and still be part of the problem. There’s also the question of why he chose to say all this publicly, and why now. Reports suggest his frustration is shared by other players, but there are also suggestions that Martínez, whose contract expires next summer, may be looking for a move.
Whatever his motives, the timing couldn’t be much worse for Michael Carrick. It was horribly reminiscent of Ruben Amorim last season, when his comments after the draw at Leeds seemed to talk him through the exit door. Once again, the manager finds himself having to answer questions about a crisis that isn’t entirely of his making.
Carrick is under pressure, of course. United’s start to the season has been appalling, and there’s only so long any manager can survive without results. But surely there can be little appetite for yet another managerial change at this stage. We can’t keep changing the manager and expecting all the other problems to disappear. That’s effectively what Martínez was saying, and on that point I agree with him.
The trouble is that United have become a club where the drama is almost as predictable as the football. One defeat becomes two, two becomes five games without a win, and suddenly we’re back to discussing dressing-room divisions, unhappy players, recruitment failures and the future of the manager. Bruno looks increasingly frustrated, too. The whole thing has the familiar feel of a club coming apart at the seams.
The fissures become cracks. The cracks become chasms. And the people responsible for holding everything together seem perpetually surprised when another piece falls off.
There were a few other things worth mentioning about Tuesday night’s experience: before kick-off, Amazon Prime interviewed Peter Bolton and John and Alex Nield, all three of whom have featured in my _United People_ series for Republik of Mancunia. Clearly Amazon’s content producers have been doing their research on this website. You’re welcome, lads.
Unfortunately, the rest of Prime’s coverage wasn’t quite so impressive. There were so many graphics and pop-ups cluttering the screen that at times you could barely see the play developing. The scoreboard operators also had a particularly memorable moment after Atlético’s disallowed second goal, briefly displaying the score as 2-1 to United before correcting themselves.
Another Schrödinger’s cat moment. Atlético had scored, hadn’t scored, and United had somehow scored twice, all at the same time. If only we could persuade UEFA to let that version of events stand.
And while we’re on the subject of television, perhaps United should reconsider the idea of allowing Amazon to film an entire season documentary. At the moment, the obvious theme would be the _Titanic_. Plenty of expensive passengers, a succession of disastrous decisions from the bridge, and an iceberg everyone could see coming except the people steering the ship.
Which brings us to Sunday, and Leeds away. It’s not exactly the fixture you’d choose when you’re trying to steady a listing ship. They’ll be well up for it, and the atmosphere will be hostile. If United play as badly as they did against Tottenham, we’re in serious trouble. Even if they play as well as they did in Madrid, it could still be a difficult afternoon. And a defeat there would widen those cracks still further.
There was one final bit of news that caught my eye. Fulham manager Álvaro Arbeloa has apparently been fined £25,000 for suggesting the referee wouldn’t let United lose when we drew 1-1 with his team a couple of weeks ago. Could we have that referee on Sunday, please? And next Wednesday while we’re at it? Because at the moment, Manchester United could do with all the help they can get. The tabloids might have retired their cracked badge graphic. They might have decided it was an outdated visual cliché, a relic of another age. But perhaps it’s time to bring it back. Although they might need to make the crack a little wider this time.
By Andrew Kirby, [Sports Storytelling & Communications | Andrew Kirby](https://andrewkirbystorytelling.co.uk/sport)