To be evaluating the performance of David Moyes just 11 games into the season is almost absurd; it certainly ought to be, and were he to be sacked tomorrow, no one would have the remotest inkling of his ability to manage Manchester United. And yet the start he has made bears discussion, not simply because it has been awful, though awful it has been, but also because it has been so in all the ways that might have been predicted.
In the first instance, Moyes's appointment reflected a dearth of candidates. Besides José Mourinho, too expensive and too much trouble, there were few available whose record demanded consideration; the Stretford End banner, "The Chosen One", might just as well read "Not The Special One". Where Sir Alex Ferguson had to devastate the Old Firm and win a European trophy to prove himself, even though United were struggling, Moyes learned of his accession after doing a largely decent but entirely believable job at Everton, where many supporters had become weary of his conservative tendencies. Of course, he can still thrive at Old Trafford, but did not earn the opportunity to try.
But he was no sooner arrived than ensconced, bringing in his Goodison deputies to replace those already in situ – as regards Jimmy Lumsden and Steve Round, his patronage the only evidence of their suitability. Nonetheless, in regular circumstances, regulation practice; but these were not those.
Though it is impossible for outsiders to rhapsodise the merits of the men who left, René Meulensteen is, by all accounts, a talented coach, and was popular with the players. Similarly, Eric Steele scouted David De Gea, learnt Spanish so that the goalkeeper might feel less homesick, and then presided over a staggering improvement in performance, physique and mentality.
Which is to say that both were integral to the delivery of consistent success, an expertise suddenly deemed dispensable. Rather, Moyes adjudged that of all the coaches in the world, those most likely to take his new club forward were already working for him – quite some coincidence, all the more so when he confirmed Leighton Baines and Marouane Fellaini as principal transfer targets.
Then, during pre-season, Moyes talked of how he had "overtrained" Robin van Persie, on the face of it, an innocuous, if injudicious turn of phrase – unless it was actually the case. Even so, ordinarily, it would be tricky to sympathise with the player, but after losing chunks of his career to injury and rehabilitation, Van Persie has stayed fit for two full seasons, and, it is fair to assume, knows his own body.
Again, this unusual power dynamic is due to unusual conditions: Moyes is a non-champion managing a squad of serial champions, replacing a much-loved predecessor. Therefore, it is he who must prove himself to the players, rather than the other way around – a mission made trickier following a dicky start that they could easily associate with his presence.
Nor is Van Persie the only one unhappy; Shinji Kagawa has reportedly expressed discontent, and the team as a whole is playing without freedom or pleasure. Footballers are often thought mandated to tolerate hardship for the privilege of their profession, but most humans perform at optimal level when comfortable, and clearly, there has been a disruption to the equilibrium of a previously happy squad.
This summer's transfer activities also reflect badly on Moyes. Though the extent of the budgeting strictures are unknown, and though it is not solely his department, the conspiratorial manner in which he addressed the press on the subject accorded him greater ownership than might otherwise have been the case. And it was certainly he who was unwilling to gamble on Ander Herrera, saw no use for the proven brilliance of Mesut Özil, and failed to advise Ed Woodward that Cesc Fábregas would not be extracted from Barcelona on the cheap. Instead, Fellaini arrived, who, though better than he has shown so far, does not flatter his manager's judgment. Bought only once the squad had been assessed, his lack of pace, drive and anticipation was overlooked, and as such, he looks incapable of strengthening a midfield desperate for almost anyone.
But the club considered its principal summer coup to be keeping Wayne Rooney, in one sense legitimately so – unarguably, he guarantees goals and assists – but in another, the intransigence hinted at expedience. Had Rooney left for Chelsea and helped them to the title, the narrative of culpability would be linear and clear. Now, should United fail in their defence, there exist numerous fudges to achieve its dispersal.
Yet the fact remains that Rooney is 28 this week and stagnant at best, the notion that money earned and saved via his sale could not be used to buy a superior, younger player, less likely with every passing injury, tantrum, nightmare and year. In the meantime, after testing team-mates with his attitude, he now captains them in the absence of Patrice Evra and Nemanja Vidic.
The principal victim of all this has been Kagawa, seemingly earmarked to take his place at the creative hub of a reshaped side. And though his celebration does not reflect his contribution, let alone relatively, nor did that of Louis Saha, who nevertheless usurped the consistently productive but increasingly joyless Ruud van Nistelrooy, to devastating effect.
"They keep telling me how good he is," said Moyes of Kagawa before United played Liverpool in the League Cup, with revealing pronoun. Then, just as in every game he has started this season, he was first fielded out of position before being substituted, his involvement intermittent, but also including sharp, incisive and perceptive passes – precisely the quality absent most of the rest of the time.
There remains a view that Kagawa's attributes of subtlety and improvisation are not those frequently found in Moyes's players, likewise those of Wilfried Zaha, another step-quickener in a squad hardly suffering a surfeit. But Zaha has yet to be considered worthy of a single second on the pitch, not even against Crystal Palace, the team he inspired to promotion last season.
In his early weeks, Moyes preferred Ashley Young and Antonio Valencia, their abilities more akin to those favoured in his Everton sides. Accordingly, it was not altogether surprising when United failed to create a single decent chance against Chelsea and required a soft penalty and late free-kick to beat Palace's 10 men, before dominating possession at Anfield as Liverpool retreated, yet threatening a goal only once.
Assessed in isolation, none of these events were especially significant, but consecutively, hinted at a more tangible malaise, subsequently manifested in the Manchester derby. The first half in particular was as severe and complete a hiding as United have received domestically in almost a decade, table footballers taking on a Subbuteo team. And yet, at its end, Moyes chose to do nothing, instead watching his team concede twice more within minutes. By way of contrast, at the same stage the previous afternoon, Everton were a goal down to West Ham, so Roberto Martínez made two alterations, spurring his team to victory.
Since then, Moyes has moved closer to finding his best eleven but without much improvement in performance, opposition defences easily repelling the constant crosses that appear too often to be coincidence. Of course, the players still produce occasional excerpts of instinctive brilliance, but given their ability, this is almost unavoidable. More instructive is that only twice this season might it be posited that United played well: against Swansea, in the opening game – even that punctuated by moments rather than replete with cohesion – and against a Bayer Leverkusen team that barely competed, yet, with merely competent goalkeeping, might have sneaked a draw.
As he is determined no one forget, Moyes was dealt a difficult start, an excuse divested of currency following the games against West Brom and Southampton. But his repeated inference that darker forces were afoot affronted players accustomed to coping with plenty more. And though they are absolutely letting him down, publicly, at least, he has done little to rouse them, the given impression one of Fergie without the charisma. Instead, he dismissed their chances in Europe, handily allowing him to dodge any blame for the same, lamented the lack of "world-class players" bestowed upon him, and implied that their most recent success merely reflected the poverty of opposition.
By no measure is the current United squad one of the club's finest, but the fact remains that it secured last season's title before the end of April and contains a goodly number of players still improving. Consequently, Moyes's lack of respect for its credentials served only to suggest his own shortcomings, because ultimately, there are only three differences between this season's United and last: a player signed by David Moyes, men employed by David Moyes and David Moyes.
• Daniel Harris' new book, The Promised Land, on Manchester United's treble season, is available here and out this week
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Absolutely ridiculous looking at that pitch.
basically.
