Today marks the first time since 2006 that United haven't been leading the premiership after 32 games. I'm aware of this stat because I noticed ages ago how we'd regularly have a mini-slump at this exact point in the season, but even so it's a pretty clear sign of the sheer dominance of those seasons, and just for the sake of comparison:
06/07: 78pts, 3pt lead
07/08: 76pts, 5pt lead
08/09: 74pts, 3pt lead (w/ game in hand)
09/10: 72pts, 1pt lead
10/11: 69pts, 6pt lead
11/12: 79pts, 8pt lead
12/13: 80pts, 12pt lead
13/14: 54pts, 17pt deficit
This thread seemed the most obvious place to share this.
Totally agree with this part. Not sure about the first part though. Liverpool still hasn't got back most of the £35m they paid for Carroll.I think 200m spending would mean that we are going to bring in absolute quality. I wouldn't be too worried about that. The problem is I don't think we would spend 200m, neither do I think we need to.
An interesting looking article by Oliver Kay at
http://www.thetimes.co.uk/tto/sport/columnists/kay/article4048412.ece
It's behind the paywall so if anyone's got access maybe they could grab it, if it's already been posted here somewhere, maybe you can give me a link.
Totally agree with this part. Not sure about the first part though. Liverpool still hasn't got back most of the £35m they paid for Carroll.
But we ended up buying only Fellaini.So far we have chased top quality players and a Fellaini. I am sure there will be more of the former and less of the latter.
interesting...it gives an insight of what might be going on behind the scenes.Replies to self - someone sent it to me - it is an interesting article so I'm reposting!
Much of this week has been spent revisiting A Strange Kind of Glory, Eamon Dunphy’s incomparable book about Sir Matt Busby. It is an extraordinary work — part biography, part fly-on-the-dressing-room-wall as Dunphy was a reserve-team player at Manchester United in the early 1960s — and laced throughout with detail so rich as to leave the reader sensing the whiff of old leather boots, dubbin, cheap Scotch and Woodbines.
The highlights are numerous, from pay disputes to allegations of a match-fixing culture to the strained relationship between Bobby Charlton and George Best and the vulgar way some players lampooned Busby while he was struggling to rebuild the team in the years after the Munich tragedy. It is, all of it, a reminder of what merciless places dressing rooms can be, riven by self-interest and politics, even at those clubs where legends of collectivism persist.
Pertinently, given the present situation at United, Dunphy is fascinating on what happened after Busby stepped down as manager. He is in no doubt, like others he spoke to, that Busby’s overbearing influence hindered Wilf McGuinness and Frank O’Farrell, his immediate successors. That, though, is a well-established part of the Old Trafford story, trotted out frequently and casually with regard to what is happening now, with Sir Alex Ferguson in the background while David Moyes, his hand-picked replacement, founders on the touchline.
Of all the intriguing observations about life post-Busby, and how they might relate to life post-Ferguson, the one that runs deepest relates to dressing room, not boardroom. Dunphy quotes Best talking about “the back-stabbing going on” and how “most of the younger lads” tried for McGuinness, “but the older ones didn’t”.
Dunphy tells how, when Busby announced in the gym at the training ground that he would be taking charge once more, with McGuinness stepping aside, a young Brian Kidd turned to the older players and said: “You lousy bastards. You’ve let him down.”
It is not immediately obvious whether there would be any United player willing to stand up for Moyes in the way that Kidd did for McGuinness, but it is fair to suggest that an air of apathy among senior players is common to both regimes — and indeed to Liverpool’s sharp decline in the early 1990s after Graeme Souness replaced Kenny Dalglish.
One figure at United observed as early as September, after back-to-back defeats by Manchester City and West Bromwich Albion, that certain players were “hiding” behind the change of manager. They were feeling sorry for themselves, he said, too busy bemoaning the new regime to give it a chance. Too many, including the previously redoubtable captain, Nemanja Vidic, seemed to be losing the fire from their bellies.
Vidic became disgruntled when tentative talks over an extension to his contract, which was to expire in June, became a lower priority than securing a huge new deal for Wayne Rooney. The hesitation over Vidic, though, was based in part on uncertainty over whether either side had the appetite for a new deal. His long-term commitment had been questioned even before he announced at training one morning last month — not the mutual parting of the ways painted by Moyes — that he will be joining Inter Milan in the summer, which makes it look a little disingenuous to retain him as captain in the meantime.
It looks like awful planning for United to have gone into this season with their three senior defenders (Vidic, Rio Ferdinand and Patrice Evra) in the final year of their contracts and seemingly on their way out while the youngish pretenders (Rafael Da Silva, Jonny Evans, Phil Jones, Chris Smalling) continue to pick up injuries at a rate rivalled only by Arsenal’s midfield. Ferdinand has struggled to adjust physically, and one would assume psychologically, to being used sparingly while being phased out. Evra has looked committed, but weary.
Michael Carrick, not for the first time, has gone into his shell. United’s fans like to serenade him with a chant of how “it’s hard to believe it’s not Scholes”. It was flattering even last season, when his usual composure was accompanied by renewed intensity. This term, as authority disappeared from Carrick’s game, Scholes would be forgiven for seeking out a defamation lawyer. Robin van Persie’s shoulders have slumped, perhaps under the weight of a Rooney-sized chip, though injuries have been a factor. As for Ryan Giggs, an excellent performance against Olympiacos has not quelled whispers of his frustrations, as player-coach, with life under Moyes.
It is, of course, a manager’s job to connect with and energise his players. Any loss of motivation not only reflects badly on a manager but undermines him, particularly when his predecessor was so strong in that regard. How many United players, though, can reflect with any degree of self-satisfaction on their efforts this season? Nani? Ashley Young? Hardly. They, along with the departed Anderson, took unhappy residence in a comfort zone under Ferguson, but can hardly claim to have embraced the new regime.
Ferguson, it is said, feels saddened by the lamentable efforts of some of the players he left behind. Even when there was barely concealed unhappiness with Luiz Felipe Scolari and André Villas-Boas at Chelsea, they rarely performed as limply as United have at Old Trafford of late; if anything, the malcontents at Chelsea appeared at times to perform with greater intensity, almost in defiance of an unpopular manager and of distrusted team-mates, rather than less.
Again, it is instructive to turn to the pages of A Strange Kind of Glory. “It’s wrong to say we didn’t try [for McGuinness],” Denis Law is quoted as saying. “There was a vacuum. All of a sudden we’ve got blackboards, the team-talks become very complicated. We’re worried about the opposition, their free kicks, their throw-ins, their corner kicks. People started to worry before games. We didn’t flow any more. Fear crept in.”
That sounds very familiar — and you will not find me expressing any admiration for United’s playing style under Moyes, not least because it is almost impossible to discern — but it keeps coming back to what Kidd said about his older team-mates’ efforts for McGuinness. Similarly, the late Bill Foulkes, in his autobiography, wrote that “quite simply the players were ready to bust a gut for [Busby]”, but “they never did that as a unit” for McGuinness, who “was a long, long way from rejoicing in the universal support of his entire staff”.
Privately, Moyes might recognise that. It is why, when a low-flying aircraft flies over Old Trafford during this afternoon’s match against Aston Villa, bearing a banner suggesting that he is sacked, the former Everton manager would be forgiven for feeling resentment towards his players.
This week, the Manchester Evening News asked its readers who is to blame for the “United crisis” (at which point you have to remind yourself that, despite their truly abject Premier League form, they will contest a Champions League quarter-final on Tuesday). More than half said Moyes, while 21.8 per cent, strikingly, said Ferguson. Of the remainder, 15.8 per cent pointed the finger at the players and just 6.9 per cent blamed the Glazer family, who own the club.
It was just a shame you could not tick more than one box; if the word out of United is that the board sympathises with Moyes because he was left with a squad short on class, then have the Glazers forgotten that, while spending more than £550 million of the club’s money since 2005 on propping up their parasitic regime, they severely reduced Ferguson’s ability to leave his successor with a squad full of top-grade players?
Moyes is struggling severely enough to believe that he may never recover the authority that has been lost over the course of this dreadful Barclays Premier League campaign. Indeed, it is legitimate to ask whether he had that authority in the first place. If the obvious answer is that it was his job to earn the players’ respect, then, yes, this is true, but perhaps that says as much about them — and about footballers in general, both in the Busby days and now — as it does him.
Replies to self - someone sent it to me - it is an interesting article so I'm reposting!
Much of this week has been spent revisiting A Strange Kind of Glory, Eamon Dunphy’s incomparable book about Sir Matt Busby. It is an extraordinary work — part biography, part fly-on-the-dressing-room-wall as Dunphy was a reserve-team player at Manchester United in the early 1960s — and laced throughout with detail so rich as to leave the reader sensing the whiff of old leather boots, dubbin, cheap Scotch and Woodbines.
The highlights are numerous, from pay disputes to allegations of a match-fixing culture to the strained relationship between Bobby Charlton and George Best and the vulgar way some players lampooned Busby while he was struggling to rebuild the team in the years after the Munich tragedy. It is, all of it, a reminder of what merciless places dressing rooms can be, riven by self-interest and politics, even at those clubs where legends of collectivism persist.
Pertinently, given the present situation at United, Dunphy is fascinating on what happened after Busby stepped down as manager. He is in no doubt, like others he spoke to, that Busby’s overbearing influence hindered Wilf McGuinness and Frank O’Farrell, his immediate successors. That, though, is a well-established part of the Old Trafford story, trotted out frequently and casually with regard to what is happening now, with Sir Alex Ferguson in the background while David Moyes, his hand-picked replacement, founders on the touchline.
Of all the intriguing observations about life post-Busby, and how they might relate to life post-Ferguson, the one that runs deepest relates to dressing room, not boardroom. Dunphy quotes Best talking about “the back-stabbing going on” and how “most of the younger lads” tried for McGuinness, “but the older ones didn’t”.
Dunphy tells how, when Busby announced in the gym at the training ground that he would be taking charge once more, with McGuinness stepping aside, a young Brian Kidd turned to the older players and said: “You lousy bastards. You’ve let him down.”
It is not immediately obvious whether there would be any United player willing to stand up for Moyes in the way that Kidd did for McGuinness, but it is fair to suggest that an air of apathy among senior players is common to both regimes — and indeed to Liverpool’s sharp decline in the early 1990s after Graeme Souness replaced Kenny Dalglish.
One figure at United observed as early as September, after back-to-back defeats by Manchester City and West Bromwich Albion, that certain players were “hiding” behind the change of manager. They were feeling sorry for themselves, he said, too busy bemoaning the new regime to give it a chance. Too many, including the previously redoubtable captain, Nemanja Vidic, seemed to be losing the fire from their bellies.
Vidic became disgruntled when tentative talks over an extension to his contract, which was to expire in June, became a lower priority than securing a huge new deal for Wayne Rooney. The hesitation over Vidic, though, was based in part on uncertainty over whether either side had the appetite for a new deal. His long-term commitment had been questioned even before he announced at training one morning last month — not the mutual parting of the ways painted by Moyes — that he will be joining Inter Milan in the summer, which makes it look a little disingenuous to retain him as captain in the meantime.
It looks like awful planning for United to have gone into this season with their three senior defenders (Vidic, Rio Ferdinand and Patrice Evra) in the final year of their contracts and seemingly on their way out while the youngish pretenders (Rafael Da Silva, Jonny Evans, Phil Jones, Chris Smalling) continue to pick up injuries at a rate rivalled only by Arsenal’s midfield. Ferdinand has struggled to adjust physically, and one would assume psychologically, to being used sparingly while being phased out. Evra has looked committed, but weary.
Michael Carrick, not for the first time, has gone into his shell. United’s fans like to serenade him with a chant of how “it’s hard to believe it’s not Scholes”. It was flattering even last season, when his usual composure was accompanied by renewed intensity. This term, as authority disappeared from Carrick’s game, Scholes would be forgiven for seeking out a defamation lawyer. Robin van Persie’s shoulders have slumped, perhaps under the weight of a Rooney-sized chip, though injuries have been a factor. As for Ryan Giggs, an excellent performance against Olympiacos has not quelled whispers of his frustrations, as player-coach, with life under Moyes.
It is, of course, a manager’s job to connect with and energise his players. Any loss of motivation not only reflects badly on a manager but undermines him, particularly when his predecessor was so strong in that regard. How many United players, though, can reflect with any degree of self-satisfaction on their efforts this season? Nani? Ashley Young? Hardly. They, along with the departed Anderson, took unhappy residence in a comfort zone under Ferguson, but can hardly claim to have embraced the new regime.
Ferguson, it is said, feels saddened by the lamentable efforts of some of the players he left behind. Even when there was barely concealed unhappiness with Luiz Felipe Scolari and André Villas-Boas at Chelsea, they rarely performed as limply as United have at Old Trafford of late; if anything, the malcontents at Chelsea appeared at times to perform with greater intensity, almost in defiance of an unpopular manager and of distrusted team-mates, rather than less.
Again, it is instructive to turn to the pages of A Strange Kind of Glory. “It’s wrong to say we didn’t try [for McGuinness],” Denis Law is quoted as saying. “There was a vacuum. All of a sudden we’ve got blackboards, the team-talks become very complicated. We’re worried about the opposition, their free kicks, their throw-ins, their corner kicks. People started to worry before games. We didn’t flow any more. Fear crept in.”
That sounds very familiar — and you will not find me expressing any admiration for United’s playing style under Moyes, not least because it is almost impossible to discern — but it keeps coming back to what Kidd said about his older team-mates’ efforts for McGuinness. Similarly, the late Bill Foulkes, in his autobiography, wrote that “quite simply the players were ready to bust a gut for [Busby]”, but “they never did that as a unit” for McGuinness, who “was a long, long way from rejoicing in the universal support of his entire staff”.
Privately, Moyes might recognise that. It is why, when a low-flying aircraft flies over Old Trafford during this afternoon’s match against Aston Villa, bearing a banner suggesting that he is sacked, the former Everton manager would be forgiven for feeling resentment towards his players.
This week, the Manchester Evening News asked its readers who is to blame for the “United crisis” (at which point you have to remind yourself that, despite their truly abject Premier League form, they will contest a Champions League quarter-final on Tuesday). More than half said Moyes, while 21.8 per cent, strikingly, said Ferguson. Of the remainder, 15.8 per cent pointed the finger at the players and just 6.9 per cent blamed the Glazer family, who own the club.
It was just a shame you could not tick more than one box; if the word out of United is that the board sympathises with Moyes because he was left with a squad short on class, then have the Glazers forgotten that, while spending more than £550 million of the club’s money since 2005 on propping up their parasitic regime, they severely reduced Ferguson’s ability to leave his successor with a squad full of top-grade players?
Moyes is struggling severely enough to believe that he may never recover the authority that has been lost over the course of this dreadful Barclays Premier League campaign. Indeed, it is legitimate to ask whether he had that authority in the first place. If the obvious answer is that it was his job to earn the players’ respect, then, yes, this is true, but perhaps that says as much about them — and about footballers in general, both in the Busby days and now — as it does him.
Ferguson, it is said, feels saddened by the lamentable efforts of some of the players he left behind.
But we ended up buying only Fellaini.
(Mata was a special case because he pretty much asked for a transfer. We didn't even pursue him that much because of the fear that they ask for Rooney.)
still Mata could have done a hazard or Lucas and joined someone else. I assume that there were other clubs interestedBut we ended up buying only Fellaini.
(Mata was a special case because he pretty much asked for a transfer. We didn't even pursue him that much because of the fear that they ask for Rooney.)
Replies to self - someone sent it to me - it is an interesting article so I'm reposting!
Again, it is instructive to turn to the pages of A Strange Kind of Glory. “It’s wrong to say we didn’t try [for McGuinness],” Denis Law is quoted as saying. “There was a vacuum. All of a sudden we’ve got blackboards, the team-talks become very complicated. We’re worried about the opposition, their free kicks, their throw-ins, their corner kicks. People started to worry before games. We didn’t flow any more. Fear crept in.”
so true. anyway we ll know the names of these players come next summer...Good read - thanks.
Among several parts that struck me I'll quote this one:
Look at that Law quote about how fear crept in and suddenly things didn't flow.
If what's written in the article is true, then there is no way back for Moyes.Replies to self - someone sent it to me - it is an interesting article so I'm reposting!
Much of this week has been spent revisiting A Strange Kind of Glory, Eamon Dunphy’s incomparable book about Sir Matt Busby. It is an extraordinary work — part biography, part fly-on-the-dressing-room-wall as Dunphy was a reserve-team player at Manchester United in the early 1960s — and laced throughout with detail so rich as to leave the reader sensing the whiff of old leather boots, dubbin, cheap Scotch and Woodbines.
The highlights are numerous, from pay disputes to allegations of a match-fixing culture to the strained relationship between Bobby Charlton and George Best and the vulgar way some players lampooned Busby while he was struggling to rebuild the team in the years after the Munich tragedy. It is, all of it, a reminder of what merciless places dressing rooms can be, riven by self-interest and politics, even at those clubs where legends of collectivism persist.
Pertinently, given the present situation at United, Dunphy is fascinating on what happened after Busby stepped down as manager. He is in no doubt, like others he spoke to, that Busby’s overbearing influence hindered Wilf McGuinness and Frank O’Farrell, his immediate successors. That, though, is a well-established part of the Old Trafford story, trotted out frequently and casually with regard to what is happening now, with Sir Alex Ferguson in the background while David Moyes, his hand-picked replacement, founders on the touchline.
Of all the intriguing observations about life post-Busby, and how they might relate to life post-Ferguson, the one that runs deepest relates to dressing room, not boardroom. Dunphy quotes Best talking about “the back-stabbing going on” and how “most of the younger lads” tried for McGuinness, “but the older ones didn’t”.
Dunphy tells how, when Busby announced in the gym at the training ground that he would be taking charge once more, with McGuinness stepping aside, a young Brian Kidd turned to the older players and said: “You lousy bastards. You’ve let him down.”
It is not immediately obvious whether there would be any United player willing to stand up for Moyes in the way that Kidd did for McGuinness, but it is fair to suggest that an air of apathy among senior players is common to both regimes — and indeed to Liverpool’s sharp decline in the early 1990s after Graeme Souness replaced Kenny Dalglish.
One figure at United observed as early as September, after back-to-back defeats by Manchester City and West Bromwich Albion, that certain players were “hiding” behind the change of manager. They were feeling sorry for themselves, he said, too busy bemoaning the new regime to give it a chance. Too many, including the previously redoubtable captain, Nemanja Vidic, seemed to be losing the fire from their bellies.
Vidic became disgruntled when tentative talks over an extension to his contract, which was to expire in June, became a lower priority than securing a huge new deal for Wayne Rooney. The hesitation over Vidic, though, was based in part on uncertainty over whether either side had the appetite for a new deal. His long-term commitment had been questioned even before he announced at training one morning last month — not the mutual parting of the ways painted by Moyes — that he will be joining Inter Milan in the summer, which makes it look a little disingenuous to retain him as captain in the meantime.
It looks like awful planning for United to have gone into this season with their three senior defenders (Vidic, Rio Ferdinand and Patrice Evra) in the final year of their contracts and seemingly on their way out while the youngish pretenders (Rafael Da Silva, Jonny Evans, Phil Jones, Chris Smalling) continue to pick up injuries at a rate rivalled only by Arsenal’s midfield. Ferdinand has struggled to adjust physically, and one would assume psychologically, to being used sparingly while being phased out. Evra has looked committed, but weary.
Michael Carrick, not for the first time, has gone into his shell. United’s fans like to serenade him with a chant of how “it’s hard to believe it’s not Scholes”. It was flattering even last season, when his usual composure was accompanied by renewed intensity. This term, as authority disappeared from Carrick’s game, Scholes would be forgiven for seeking out a defamation lawyer. Robin van Persie’s shoulders have slumped, perhaps under the weight of a Rooney-sized chip, though injuries have been a factor. As for Ryan Giggs, an excellent performance against Olympiacos has not quelled whispers of his frustrations, as player-coach, with life under Moyes.
It is, of course, a manager’s job to connect with and energise his players. Any loss of motivation not only reflects badly on a manager but undermines him, particularly when his predecessor was so strong in that regard. How many United players, though, can reflect with any degree of self-satisfaction on their efforts this season? Nani? Ashley Young? Hardly. They, along with the departed Anderson, took unhappy residence in a comfort zone under Ferguson, but can hardly claim to have embraced the new regime.
Ferguson, it is said, feels saddened by the lamentable efforts of some of the players he left behind. Even when there was barely concealed unhappiness with Luiz Felipe Scolari and André Villas-Boas at Chelsea, they rarely performed as limply as United have at Old Trafford of late; if anything, the malcontents at Chelsea appeared at times to perform with greater intensity, almost in defiance of an unpopular manager and of distrusted team-mates, rather than less.
Again, it is instructive to turn to the pages of A Strange Kind of Glory. “It’s wrong to say we didn’t try [for McGuinness],” Denis Law is quoted as saying. “There was a vacuum. All of a sudden we’ve got blackboards, the team-talks become very complicated. We’re worried about the opposition, their free kicks, their throw-ins, their corner kicks. People started to worry before games. We didn’t flow any more. Fear crept in.”
That sounds very familiar — and you will not find me expressing any admiration for United’s playing style under Moyes, not least because it is almost impossible to discern — but it keeps coming back to what Kidd said about his older team-mates’ efforts for McGuinness. Similarly, the late Bill Foulkes, in his autobiography, wrote that “quite simply the players were ready to bust a gut for [Busby]”, but “they never did that as a unit” for McGuinness, who “was a long, long way from rejoicing in the universal support of his entire staff”.
Privately, Moyes might recognise that. It is why, when a low-flying aircraft flies over Old Trafford during this afternoon’s match against Aston Villa, bearing a banner suggesting that he is sacked, the former Everton manager would be forgiven for feeling resentment towards his players.
This week, the Manchester Evening News asked its readers who is to blame for the “United crisis” (at which point you have to remind yourself that, despite their truly abject Premier League form, they will contest a Champions League quarter-final on Tuesday). More than half said Moyes, while 21.8 per cent, strikingly, said Ferguson. Of the remainder, 15.8 per cent pointed the finger at the players and just 6.9 per cent blamed the Glazer family, who own the club.
It was just a shame you could not tick more than one box; if the word out of United is that the board sympathises with Moyes because he was left with a squad short on class, then have the Glazers forgotten that, while spending more than £550 million of the club’s money since 2005 on propping up their parasitic regime, they severely reduced Ferguson’s ability to leave his successor with a squad full of top-grade players?
Moyes is struggling severely enough to believe that he may never recover the authority that has been lost over the course of this dreadful Barclays Premier League campaign. Indeed, it is legitimate to ask whether he had that authority in the first place. If the obvious answer is that it was his job to earn the players’ respect, then, yes, this is true, but perhaps that says as much about them — and about footballers in general, both in the Busby days and now — as it does him.
Come on Varun. If you don't understand what he is saying, you basically don't understand football. After all it's the football heads at our club who have hired him and constantly maintained he is the man for the job!
Aye - but Keys isn't suggesting that it was some sort of oppressive negativity which filled 'em with this fear. It was a new regime - what made 'em fearful was a loss of familiarity. And they didn't respond well to it, that's what Keys is saying.
This may be true - and it certainly rings true to me - regardless of what one feels about Moyes. There have been rumours about "senior" players not dealing particularly well with the new management for a long time now. And it's not surprising, is it? It's happened before at many clubs. Perhaps Moyes has dealt with it less impressively than A, B or C would have - but the phenomenon itself isn't Moyes' creation.
Don't think it's a huge coincidence that over the last few days where it's been suggested that there were problems with the inherited scouting set up bequeathed by Ferguson that he made sure he had his brother, the man basically in charge of the scouting network, sitting next to him for the entirety of the match
I think 200m spending would mean that we are going to bring in absolute quality. I wouldn't be too worried about that. The problem is I don't think we would spend 200m, neither do I think we need to.
There were details that came out after the deal, that Mata wanted to join us, and he told Mourinho about that, and we did ask Chelsea about him, and half heartedly tried to sign him, but he wasn't a target of ours (had he not asked for a transfer and became available), and we didn't even pursue him that much (it was later revealed that we were afraid that they bring up the Rooney issue in the negotiations).still Mata could have done a hazard or Lucas and joined someone else. I assume that there were other clubs interested
That Times article. So basically all our problems are because of senior players letting Moyes down? The same players who asked by the new manager to hit long balls and sit deep are the problem really? And the part about Ferguson being disappointed by the players. The same Fergie who ignored our poor midfield for 5 years. The same Ferguson who replaced Ronaldo and Tevez with Obertan, Valencia and Owen, indulged Anderson for 7 years and bought Ashley Young.
So Moyes is going to spend £265 million in his 1st 3 transfer windows? I have a feeling this time next year we will still be in 7th. Moyes will be asking for more time to get his new players settled. I hope our fans will still be singing his name at Old Trafford.
I understand what he's saying but the specifics he mentioned make no sense.
Maybe it's his attempt at playing mind games with PepThe excuses get laughable by the minute.
Does Moyes not know English? Hasnt he been watching the PL? Didnt he take over the league champions? Didnt we have a lot in place that he's decided to uproot?
After yesterday, I find it laughable that people blame Moyes for his negativity, I would be negative looking at the standard of some of the performances too. But I do feel some things should not be said publicly. However...after listening to Jose and all the negative things he is saying about his team and their chance of not winning the league he isn't exactly a ray of sunshine.
That Times article. So basically all our problems are because of senior players letting Moyes down? The same players who asked by the new manager to hit long balls and sit deep are the problem really? And the part about Ferguson being disappointed by the players. The same Fergie who ignored our poor midfield for 5 years. The same Ferguson who replaced Ronaldo and Tevez with Obertan, Valencia and Owen, indulged Anderson for 7 years and bought Ashley Young.
So Moyes is going to spend £265 million in his 1st 3 transfer windows? I have a feeling this time next year we will still be in 7th. Moyes will be asking for more time to get his new players settled. I hope our fans will still be singing his name at Old Trafford.
They do not. I was being sarcastic.
Maybe it's his attempt at playing mind games with Pep
After yesterday, I find it laughable that people blame Moyes for his negativity, I would be negative looking at the standard of some of the performances too. But I do feel some things should not be said publicly. However...after listening to Jose and all the negative things he is saying about his team and their chance of not winning the league he isn't exactly a ray of sunshine.
@#07 just to put you in the perspective if things, Busby used little or no tactics at the time. It s more than natural that when a new coach started giving these new instructions some players were not happy
thought so with the footballing intelligence bit but then decided you were serious.
If Moyes said what Jose is saying we'd be slaughtering him for it.
If some players aren't giving their all, then why are they playing? why haven't they been dropped? Why haven't our fringe players been given a chance?After yesterday, I find it laughable that people blame Moyes for his negativity, I would be negative looking at the standard of some of the performances too. But I do feel some things should not be said publicly. However...after listening to Jose and all the negative things he is saying about his team and their chance of not winning the league he isn't exactly a ray of sunshine.