UNTOLD UNITED: The Downfall of Britain's Biggest Club. Volume 2 - The Farce of the False Messiahs

Manchester United's post Ferguson era has become a case study in dysfunction, a decade of uncertainty defined by a revolving door of managers, fractured leadership and a recruitment policy that struggled to outlive changing regimes. Volume 2 of Untold United traces the club's slide from the Rangnick experiment to the appointment of Ruben Amorim, arguing that the club has been haunted by the farce of false messiahs rather than a clear, coherent strategy.

Ralf Rangnick arrived at Old Trafford in December 2021 with the aura of a kingmaker but left with a reputation for indecision and a hierarchy ill equipped to execute a modern football project. The 63-year-old German had been working as head of sports and development at Lokomotiv Moscow when United sounded out him, and he spoke of a possible one year extension if things went well. In reality, Rangnick did not land the job, had no hand in appointing Erik ten Hag, and would soon be cast as the figurehead of United's muddled post Ferguson era. Ten Hag, who had impressed at Ajax, was identified as the club's preferred coach and was eventually appointed after a process that involved a fly-out to Amsterdam and a set of meetings in London. The dynamic between Rangnick and the eventual appointment never materialized as a partnership; the two men never met face to face after Rangnick’s arrival and Rangnick soon became a byword for confusion and indecision within a club already reeling from a toxic mix of ambition and mismanagement.

Ten Hag’s arrival brought a calmer, more forensic approach, but his early months exposed the club’s structural flaws. He required a line of accountability and a clear philosophy, yet his first tour and the summer window were dominated by the saga of Cristiano Ronaldo. The Portugal star, who had returned to United a year earlier, clashed with Ten Hag over playing time and pressing demands. Ronaldo sought a move away, travelled on tour limitedly, and later refused a late substitution against Tottenham in October 2022, events that damaged his standing with the manager and the club. United publicly backed Ten Hag as the prizing of discipline began to set in, enforcing dress codes, punctuality, and weight management, and even banning alcohol during match weeks. The Ronaldo saga quickly became a focal point of United’s narrative and a symbol of the fragile balance the manager sought between star power and a cohesive group.

Rangnick’s recommendations overlapped with a broader retooling under Ten Hag, but the club immediately faced criticism for recruitment that promised a modern, high-pressing identity yet delivered inconsistent results. United pursued Frenkie de Jong before pivoting to Casemiro from Real Madrid, a high-profile signing whose Old Trafford tenure proved underwhelming in the face of tactical and structural issues. The club also spent heavily on Antony from Ajax, a transfer that later drew scrutiny as one of the more controversial and costly misjudgments in the post Ferguson era. Other signings tied to Ten Hag’s circle—such as Lisandro Martinez, Christian Eriksen, Tyrell Malacia, and later additions from Ajax—introduced a Dutch-heavy spine that some argued reflected the manager’s comfort zone rather than a broader United strategy. The 2023-24 season opened with the team exposed on the ball and in midfield, with play from the back repeatedly exploited by attackers and a midfield balance that left the team overrun in key fixtures. These lessons were underscored by defeats that rattled the fanbase and raised questions about the club’s recruitment and development model.

The Ronaldo episode foreshadowed a broader cultural shift under Ten Hag, who sought to impose a demanding regime. He introduced a mobile phone ban during meals, regular weigh-ins, interlude restrictions on alcohol, and precise standards for timing and dress. These measures aimed to re-ignite United’s competitiveness and discipline, but they also highlighted fractures within a squad that had grown accustomed to a lighter touch in Solskjaer’s era. A number of players—Rashford, Garnacho, Sancho, and others—found their status in the squad fluctuating as Ten Hag attempted to recalibrate the group’s dynamic. The tension manifested in on-field struggles and public friction, including high-profile debates around squad selection and playing style.

The club’s recruitment drift increasingly reflected the manager’s preferences rather than a broad, long-term policy. Casemiro, while a winner at Real Madrid, found the Premier League a sterner test, and Antony failed to live up to the hype of a record signing, becoming a symbol of the overpaying and misalignment that afflicted the club’s transfer business. The club also leaned into Ten Hag’s Ajax network, signing players such as Matheus Cunha and Bryan Mbeumo, which pushed Bruno Fernandes back into midfield and created a positional drift that many observers viewed as a misstep for a club trying to build a stable spine. The departure of Marcus Rashford and Alejandro Garnacho—Rashford on loan to Aston Villa and later Barcelona, Garnacho to Chelsea after a contentious back-and-forth—left United with a depleted attacking line and a sense that talent could outpace the club’s strategy. Sancho’s own stand-off with Ten Hag, and his eventual exile to Dortmund, underscored the depth of the internal frictions and the difficulty of managing a squad containing big personalities and the expectations of supporters who demanded a return to the club’s historic standards.

Meanwhile, the executive layer of the club was under strain. A strategic review led by Sir Dave Brailsford and others, and the involvement of Jim Ratcliffe’s Ineos, produced a turbulent decision-making process about Ten Hag’s future. Brailsford’s brief involvement and subsequent departure reflected a broader discomfort with the club’s governance, and reports suggest the decision to extend Ten Hag’s contract after Wembley came from a desire to salvage momentum rather than a clear-eyed assessment of the manager’s long-term fit. The dominoes continued to fall as the club paid tens of millions to compensate managers and staff after removing Ten Hag and pursuing replacement candidates, including Thomas Tuchel and Roberto De Zerbi, only to reconsider amid popular support for Ten Hag’s cup final victory over City. The club’s strategy and its ability to sustain leadership over a multi-year horizon remained in question, with the cost of changes mounting as the club navigated through a decade of upheaval.

The Amorim era, announced amid heavy fanfare and financial commitments, arrived with promises of a more aggressive, modern system and a willingness to stake the club’s future on a 3-4-2-1 shape and a set of players selected through trusted channels. United executives were prepared to back Amorim with a release clause worth 8.3 million euros and an eight-figure figure to bring him in early, followed by a further 10.4 million to part with Ten Hag and his staff. Yet the early results were challenging. Amorim insisted on tactical experimentation, including a two No 10 configuration behind a central striker that opponents quickly exploited, leaving the side vulnerable in midfield and on the break. His locker-room leadership drew mixed reviews: he spoke openly about the need to balance aesthetics and results, and he was transparent about the difficulties of reviving a club whose culture had grown brittle. The conversion from Amrabat to the club’s wider playing style and the pressures of managing a star-laden squad created a mounting sense of unease for supporters who had hoped for a return to the club’s former hauteur.

The season culminated in a disappointing domestic campaign, the worst of United’s Premier League era, with an 8th place finish and a shock exit from the Europa League in Bilbao after losing to Tottenham in the final. Yet the Cup final victory against City offered a fleeting sense of redemption and the belief that the players could rally for an occasion, even as the club remained mired in controversy and internal strife. Amorim’s candid public admissions — including references to the team as one of the worst in United history and a willingness to question the direction of the squad — underscored the fragile psychology of a dressing room under pressure. His leadership also sparked questions about United’s recruitment model, the influence of his representatives and the long-term viability of a plan that had been accelerated to address immediate shortcomings rather than build a sustainable framework.

The broader narrative, as laid out in Volume 2, is one of a club that has spent more time negotiating leadership, culture and strategy than in building a stable football identity. The record shows a club that has paid heavy prices for missteps, including costly contracts, compensation packages to departing coaches, and a misaligned approach to talent development. The period has been punctuated by moments of promise, such as Cup final glory, but those moments have often been outweighed by off-field turmoil, public missteps and a sense that the club’s leadership was more reactive than strategic. As the Amorim chapter unfolds, the question remains whether United can escape the pattern of the past decade and chart a course that prioritizes consistency, long-term planning and a clear, shared philosophy on and off the pitch. The saga continues, with fans and observers watching closely as the club seeks to reconcile its storied past with the demands of a modern football landscape.