2010-11 EPL Previews: Manchester United

The satanic imagery makes so much sense

Official Name: Manchester United

Nickname: The Red Devils

Home Colors: Red shirt, white shorts, red/black socks

Trophy Case: 18 League titles (including 12 in the EPL since 1992-93), 11 FA Cups (last in 2003-04), 4 League/Carling Cups (last in 2009-10), 18 Charity/Community Shields (including this season’s), 3 European Cup/Champions League titles (last in 2007-08… sorry, John Terry), a Club World Cup in 2008, some other smaller cups, and several “Doubles” and one “Treble” (League, FA Cup, and European Cup) in 1998-99.

2009-10 League Finish: 2nd. It didn’t matter that they were dominant after the New Year—13 wins, 3 draws, 2 defeats—as Chelsea beat them on April 3 at Old Trafford and held on down the stretch to pip Fergie’s lads to the title by a measly point. Heck, it could have even been the 0-0 draw at Blackburn on April 11 that killed their chances.

2009-10 Cup Finish: Their FA Cup run ended before it really began, as they lost 1-0 to Leeds United at home on the back of some slipshod defending and a Jermaine Beckford goal. Nevermind though, as they hoisted the Carling Cup on February 28 after waltzing through the competition. Wins over Wolves, Barnsley and Tottenham preceded a second-leg comeback against their plucky neighbors across town before beating Aston Villa 2-1 in the final.

Stadium: The vast, imposing Old Trafford, England’s second-largest stadium behind that shoddy-pitched London tchotchke known as Wembley Stadium. Seating 75,957 muppets comfortably, it’s actually a nice stadium. I’ve been there a few times, though I don’t recall ever being treated well. Not sure why that could be… and here I was thinking that monied folk from London were polite and upstanding!

History:
Where does one begin? Should we chart their roots from Newton Heath LYR Railroad Club way back in 1878? Of course, that didn’t last long; Newton Heath were served bankruptcy papers in 1902 after some time in the Second Division, prompting the players to buy out the team and be reborn as the Manchester United you know now.

The bulk of the century that followed is familar to pretty much any team—periods of success followed by a long drought—though it’s capped by the Munich air disaster on February 6, 1958, a tragedy that claimed the lives of 23 people, including 8 of the storied “Busby Babes”. Guys like Duncan Edwards and Geoff Bent perished in the incident, and much to my displeasure, it’s something Liverpool fans like to mock periodically when the teams meet. Such is the intensity of the rivalry that’s burned and raged for decades, I suppose.

After some 20 years without a league title, enter Alex Ferguson, the plucky Scot and Jock Stein protege, hero to the working class and friend to the labor unions. The rest is irritatingly fresh in the mind: trophies, accolades, a slew of iconic/loathsome players stalking the Old Trafford pitch, and years of raging jealousy at their ascendancy.

You could fill a thousand squads with their cult figures just from the time I was born. Norman Whiteside, who doubled his “James T hate” when he went on to finish his career at Everton. The wiry, wily striker Mark Hughes. The twin thugs in central defense, Steve Bruce and Gary Pallister. The loud-mouthed iconoclasm of Peter Schmeichel. A procession of fiery box-to-box midfielders, guys like Paul Ince, Roy Keane, Bryan Robson, Nicky Butt, and Paul Scholes, with clods like Darren Fletcher and Darron Gibson inheriting that legacy and taking it forward. The Neville brothers, all piss, vinegar, and mistimed tackles.

Ole Gunnar Solskjaer, 11, scores European Cup winner vs. Bayern Munich

The original “super sub”, Ole Gunnar Solskjaer. Andy Cole and Dwight Yorke, dismantling teams for fun with their kinetic energy, unbridled joy, and seemingly psychic connection. HATE.

And then, we get to the real anti-hero, Eric Cantona, he of indeceipherable soundbites (something about sardines, seagulls, and trawlers?), karate kicks, tempestuous rage and that popped collar. The ageless Ryan Giggs, and finally, the one United player I begrudgingly—oh, so begrudgingly respect—the egoless left-back, Denis Irwin.

And these are just some of the villains that haunted my childhood: going further back, you get guys like George Best, Brian Kidd, the Charlton brothers who were so crucial to England’s victory in 1966, and whipsmart winger Denis Law.

Gaffer:
The incomparable, indefatigable, indecipherable Sir Alex Ferguson. Master of the mind game. Unafraid to jaw with referees, criticize anyone and everyone in the post-game comments, and completely willing to chuck a hairdryer or two if needed. Versatile in his tactical planning and always willing to improvise and innovate, Ferguson has to be one of the best man-managers the game has ever seen. Whether blooding youth into the lineup or handling precocious stars, Fergie has the golden touch, and it’s served him well since joining the club in 1986 from Aberdeen.

In that time, he’s won just about ever piece of silverware available, including some that are probably defunct in 2010-11, but I cling to that apocryphal story from the late-80s that defines and frames his supreme success.

Browbeaten and stressed in the 1989-90 season, Fergie was on the verge of losing his job. Victory in the FA Cup was supposedly an essential component to his survival as boss, and of course, Mark Robins helped them to a 1-0 win over heavily-favored Nottingham Forest early in the competition, setting the tone for a march to Wembley that ended in a remarkable 3-3 FA Cup final against Crystal Palace.

Not only did United come from behind twice in that confrontation, with Mark Hughes’ emphatic equalizer coming in the 113th minute, but they triumphed 1-0 in a replay—the FA Cup didn’t do PKs back then—to save Ferguson from the chop. Against all odds, the Scot stayed on thanks to that trophy—forget that they finished 13th in the First Division, just five points above the relegation zone—and the rest, as they say so obnoxiously, is history. It’s been nothing but smugness, big smiles, and success ever since.

Transfers In:
Chris Smalling, CB – Fulham, “undisclosed” (though we know the fee’s in the region of £10-12m)
Javier Hernandez, ST – Guadalajara, “undisclosed” (though the fee was around £7m)

Transfers Out:
Tom Heaton, GK – Cardiff, free
Zoran Tosic, LM/LW – CSKA Moscow, “undisclosed” (around £7m?)
Ron-Robert Zieler, GK – Hannover, free
Febian Brandy, ST – released
Sam Hewson, CM – released
Scott Moffat, DF – released
David Gray, RB/RM – Preston North End, free
Craig Cathcart, CB – Blackpool, “undisclosed” (though we can call it £500,000)

Loans Out:
Mame Biram Diouf, ST – to Blackburn Rovers
David James, DF/MF – to Preston North End
Cameron Stewart, MF – to Yeovil Town
James Chester, CB – to Carlisle United
Danny Drinkwater, MF – to Cardiff City
Joshua King, ST – to Preston North End
Danny Welbeck, ST – to Sunderland

Key Players:
Forgive me, as I’m gonna stretch the definition of “key” a bit in order to avoid the usual “Oh, Wayne Rooney is key because he needs to score 30 goals” type of analysis. Y’know, the stuff you’d find on those Talk websites.

Dimitar Berbatov, ST
Look. Dimi’s had a rough couple of seasons at Old Trafford. His performances, occasionally sparked with a bit of wondrous skill, or an artful goal, haven’t been worth the price Fergie paid back in 2008. We know this. We also know that following Master Wayne’s difficult, grumpy summer—one that’s continued with an uneven effort in the Community Shield and an uninspired, half-pace appearance for England midweek—the onus will be on whoever partners or plays off the Nike demi-god to pick up more of the slack. At any point in Berbatov’s career have we been able to characterize him as that water-carrying kind of guy while still keeping a straight face?

I’m still not convinced the pair can function effectively together, either. Maybe it’s the sharp contrast in style between Rooney’s worker bee hustle and Berbatov’s insouciance that makes me wonder whether or not the chain-smoking Bulgarian will soon play second fiddle to that Little Pea fellow, who we’ll get to in a moment.

Look at him. He can't even celebrate a goal excitedly.

Point being, if Rooney falters or loses himself in his own emotions, then guys like Berbatov become essential. He’s the seventh or eighth striker on the books, and can easily dominate if he cares to.

The question of caring is the one that plagues him while his response will define him, and possibly even United’s season. After all, it can’t all be about Rooney + 10 guys. That’s just not the United way.

Paul Scholes/Darren Fletcher/Michael Carrick – CM
This three-headed tyrant in the center of the pitch is equally crucial to United’s hopes in 2010-11, simply because everything that runs through the middle will be influenced by one, or all, of these guys. All have the occasional injury spike that dogs them, and Scholes’ laughable tackling ability makes him a constant liability. That said, as we saw in the Community Shield last weekend, the man can still pass a ball with incredible accuracy and range.

Whichever of the trio gets to run the midfield, assuming that Ji-Sung Park is kept infield to hustle where these guys simply can’t, is going to be vital. They can all influence games, though they don’t always lead from the front like United midfielders of old—Bryan Robson, Paul Ince, Roy Keane—were often doing.

That personality is crucial, but these three all come with huge pros/cons: Scholes can pass but can’t tackle, Fletcher can tackle and track but never dominates, and Carrick reads the game phenomenally but lacks the personality he had at White Hart Lane to grab a game by the scruff of its neck and own it. Other title contenders bring boatloads of charisma and control to the center of the pitch—Chelsea has Essien/Lampard/Mikel, all dogged and exuberant in their own way, while Arsenal have that guy-who-Barca-wanted-but-didn’t-get to stamp his brand on proceedings.

One of them needs to step up and become a sustained personality in the middle, the conduit through which United can flow, serene. Who will it be?

Antonio Valencia, RW
The ex-Wigan winger was derided as being an inferior replacement for the irascible C-Ronaldo, but then again few can find the right mix of ego and excellence to match the Portuguese prancer. Enter Valencia, a guy with the pace and power of C-Ron, but with an added dimension: killer instinct. While Ronaldo would dodge, dart, and dance down the flank, Valencia is more direct. He’s unafraid to take a man on, muscle him aside and continue about his business. His crossing is still inconsistent, but he’s a refreshing alternative to Nani’s irritatingly inconsistent wingplay on the other flank.

We’re not sure who is ready to emerge behind either winger—is Obertan a legit EPL quality? How much does Giggs have left in the tank? Could Little Pea convert to a wide player?—and so Valencia needs to justify himself anew to the Old Trafford fans. Wing play is a vital component of any great team, and with Nani undecided as to whether he’ll fly or flop at this point in his career, Valencia becomes a larger piece of the puzzle.

Rising Stars:
Javier Hernandez, ST
Oh look, the Little Pea, the Mexican NT “star” of the World Cup. He scored a goal with his face, folks! Still, his pace, guile, and clever off-the-ball movement remind me a little too much of Ole Gunnar Solskjaer. I know it’s too early to make a full comparison—something about sample size, I guess?—but that kind of off-the-bench/12th man impact player is Hernandez’ fate should he choose to take it.

Fabio/Rafael da Silva, DF
Gary Neville has to retire sometime—please, Lord, make it soon—and oafs like John O’Shea and Wes Brown, easily the least graceful players since the days when fat people played in the EPL, can only act as placeholders for so much longer. Though neither of the Brazili-twins is a finished product, they represent youth and vitality, and they’re a massive upgrade to the aesthetically-challenged alternatives knocking around the dressing room.

Yes, they’re prone to mistakes now and then—Rafael’s dismissal against Bayern was a pivotal moment in that game, whether you agree with the ref’s decision or not—but like I said, they’re a massive upgrade to a plodding, profane foul machine like Gary Neville.

Tom Cleverley, DF/MF
Could this scamp be the eventual solution to the Carrick/Fletcher/Scholes conundrum? Though he’s yet to play a full/official game for United’s senior team, he’s been busy on loan the last two seasons, nothing 15 appearances at Leicester in 2008-09 before owning the Watford midfield last year and taking home the club’s Player of the Year award for good measure. His goal against the MLS All-Stars was a tasty example of what he can do if given the chance, and I’m sure Fergie will be leaning a bit on these young bucks as the team moves deeper and deeper into their busy schedule.

Plus, the journos will have a field day with his name, should they get to unleash it upon heads and sub-heads in 2010-11 and beyond.

Drama:
I think the only legitimate drama here revolves around the amalgam of youth and experience at Old Trafford, and how Fergie plans on easing into a transition from guys like Scholes/Giggs who are close to retirement (though neither would ever admit it, which is admirable). Doubts surround the strength in depth, but I suppose any lasting tension swirls around the front end of the pitch, and just how the team manage to bring Rooney back out of his shell into that world-conquering, turf-chewing force that he’s capable of being.

The whole “Glazers are awful human beings” meme does add a smidgen of that soap opera stuff the tabloids consume for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but it’s getting a bit one-dimensional. Instead, if you’re smart, you’ll quietly stand to the side and wait for the fire to erupt from within. Bring your matches!

Tactics!
Sir Alex Ferguson will do just about anything to win a game. This extends beyond his amusing mind games with the media, whereby he’ll gravely announce a long-term injury to a key player, only to trot them out in the starting lineup a couple of days later. He has fun with this, and I do too, though I’m at the point where I don’t believe a word he says.

Mercifully for United, the players still hang on his every word, and last season we got plenty of funny looks: there was the trio of defensive midfielders stacked in a 4-4-2 to flummox Tottenham early last season, and when Dimi started to forget his lines in that setup, we got a steady diet of 4-5-1 with Ji-Sung Park playing anywhere in midfield to support Rooney’s forays in the attacking third.

Based purely on their squad at present, you’d fancy Ferguson busting out a 4-4-2 again, like he did in the Community Shield, and relying on the natural width of Valencia to create space for Rooney and his partner up front.

Question Marks:
It begins and ends with Wayne Rooney. That ankle twinge against Bayern was a defining point in United’s run-in, and his lack of fitness preceded a lack of confidence when wearing England colors. If he gets off to a strong start, all those pains will be forgotten and forgiven—or at least saved for his next autobiography, which I’m sure will be essential zzzzzz—and he’ll be giggling and pissing in the street like he’s 15 again.

Yes… YES… that's it! Sink deeper into despair! Get emo! Wear eyeliner!

Still, you get the sense he’s a brooding fellow, and Fergie will need to really reach down deep to pull him out of the mire and get him motoring again as the pivotal person in United’s lineup.

Other big concerns include goalkeeper—Ben Foster’s gone, and Edwin van der Sar is approaching 53 years of age—and the heart of the defense, where Nemanja Vidic will need to work hard in not getting sent off so that he’s around to hold Rio Ferdinand’s hand through the general course of play.

But those become less relevant if Rooney and co are doing the biz at the other end.

Important Fixtures:
Back-to-back games against the Liverpool sides in mid-September should provide their first genuine test of the season (@ Everton on 9.12, vs. Liverpool on 9.19) though it depends how much you rate the pair.

Beyond that, there’s the Manchester derby away leg on 11.10 (a midweek tie, no less), and then an Arsenal-Chelsea stretch right before Christmas (vs. Arsenal on 12.11, @ Chelsea on 12.18) that will allow them to gauge how their year is going.

As usual, Fergie gets it nice: a fairly limp run for a couple of months should allow them to gather momentum.

Prediction: Fergie will experience deja vu, as his side finish second or third with a bullet. Though Hernandez presents an intangible on the transfers list, you can’t deny that Chelsea still remain the team to beat, especially now that some deadwood like Ballack and Deco has been trimmed. With Essien fully fit—if we’re honest, that’s the kind of guy United really, desperately need in the middle—they will set the pace once more, though United will be right up there the entire season. Third is my Scouser optimism creeping in, so take it for what it’s worth (which is probably not very much).

On the Cup side of the ledger, a deep run in one of the domestic trophies seems likely, especially if they sic their talented kids on lower-league dross. Europe will not amount to much. Quarter-finals and bust, I reckon.