When you look at the great managers who’ve left their mark on the game, especially in the Premier League, it's clear that charisma and gravitas are just as important as tactics. Take Klopp and Guardiola – it’s not just about how their teams play but how they carry themselves. These are men who command respect with every look, every word. They own the room, the narrative, and ultimately, their squads. It’s no coincidence their players go to war for them week in, week out. You can see it in the intensity of Klopp’s Liverpool and the almost fanatical dedication Pep gets out of his City squad.
And then there’s Sir Alex. He was the master of it – that unique blend of authority and presence. When he walked into a room, everyone knew he was in charge. Journalists, players, even rival managers knew they were in the presence of something different, something that demanded respect. He didn’t just lead a team; he ruled a club. His influence seeped through every corner of Old Trafford. It wasn’t just about tactics – though his were better than most – it was about instilling a belief, a sense of purpose that united everyone.
Now, look at Erik ten Hag. There’s no doubting his CV, his tactical knowledge. But something’s missing. From the get-go, you could see the difference in how the media approached him, almost like they never quite took him to heart. Worse, they didn’t take him seriously. You didn’t get that sense of command, of holding the room in the way Klopp or Pep do, or the way Sir Alex did effortlessly.
And that’s not just about dealing with the media – it seeps into the dressing room too. With ten Hag, it felt like he struggled to truly get everyone pulling in the same direction. You saw it in individual relationships, cracks forming here and there, a disconnect that only grew over time. At a club like United, you need more than tactical acumen. You need to be larger than life, to embody something that rallies every single person around you, from the players to the fans.
In the end, managing United is about more than a clipboard and a game plan. It’s about commanding the room, owning the narrative, being the heart and soul of the club. Sir Alex had it. Klopp and Pep have it. Ten Hag? Maybe he just didn’t have enough of it.
A question to our Portuguese posters - does Amorim have it?
And then there’s Sir Alex. He was the master of it – that unique blend of authority and presence. When he walked into a room, everyone knew he was in charge. Journalists, players, even rival managers knew they were in the presence of something different, something that demanded respect. He didn’t just lead a team; he ruled a club. His influence seeped through every corner of Old Trafford. It wasn’t just about tactics – though his were better than most – it was about instilling a belief, a sense of purpose that united everyone.
Now, look at Erik ten Hag. There’s no doubting his CV, his tactical knowledge. But something’s missing. From the get-go, you could see the difference in how the media approached him, almost like they never quite took him to heart. Worse, they didn’t take him seriously. You didn’t get that sense of command, of holding the room in the way Klopp or Pep do, or the way Sir Alex did effortlessly.
And that’s not just about dealing with the media – it seeps into the dressing room too. With ten Hag, it felt like he struggled to truly get everyone pulling in the same direction. You saw it in individual relationships, cracks forming here and there, a disconnect that only grew over time. At a club like United, you need more than tactical acumen. You need to be larger than life, to embody something that rallies every single person around you, from the players to the fans.
In the end, managing United is about more than a clipboard and a game plan. It’s about commanding the room, owning the narrative, being the heart and soul of the club. Sir Alex had it. Klopp and Pep have it. Ten Hag? Maybe he just didn’t have enough of it.
A question to our Portuguese posters - does Amorim have it?
