The story, as it came to be told, was the one that people wanted to hear, the version they needed to believe. It went like this: Cristiano Ronaldo, beloved alumnus of Manchester United, had attempted to engineer a move to Manchester City, his alma mater’s fierce rival, because the atomic weight of ambition is greater than that of affection, and had only agreed at the last moment to return to Old Trafford instead.
And, once Ronaldo had his homecoming, the scant facts at hand were parsed and assessed and bent to fit. Now, the flirtation was cast as nothing but a ploy, City seduced so that United might strike. Rio Ferdinand, Ronaldo’s former teammate, and Alex Ferguson, his longtime mentor, had intervened not to show him the error of his ways, but to snap United from its torpor. City might have turned his head, but only United could win his heart.
There has, for much of the last year, been what might be described as a “debate” about the merits of Ronaldo’s restoration at United. It’s never been anything of the sort, of course. It has, instead, been two groups of people bellowing two entirely separate conversations in each other’s vague direction.
One of those conversations is about whether Ronaldo, at 37, is still a fine player and the answer to it is that yes, obviously: One of the greatest players of all time is still a great player.
The other is about whether Ronaldo makes United a better team and the answer to that one is no, obviously: He does not, largely because his presence commands that the team play in a manner to which it is not especially suited, and which would not be hugely effective even if it was.
What neither side doubted, though, was that Ronaldo had been drawn back to Old Trafford by some indelible bond.
The version of the story people wanted to hear had been accepted as fact.
Until this week, when it turned out that Ronaldo had informed United of his desire to leave. Not publicly, of course; plausible deniability remains paramount. Instead, as ever, a few skeletal facts have been allowed to surface.
He has been unimpressed by United’s activity in the transfer market. He has been disgruntled by the news that he’ll not be paid as much as he would’ve been, had the club with one of the most expensive squads ever assembled finished as one of the best four teams in the Premier League. He wants, more than anything, to play in the Champions League for the remainder of his career.
The last one, perhaps, is the most illustrative. There is no reason to disbelieve the idea that Ronaldo has loved all of the clubs he has represented. But his greatest bond is not with a team but with a tournament.
LESSONS DO NOT GET LEARNED
Of all the problems United faced last season, the form of Luke Shaw was some considerable way down the list. Nobody watched United flailing in the Premier League and said: Yes, the issue here is the in-form left back.
Nonetheless, the first signing of manager Erik ten Hag’s tenure at Old Trafford was a left-back: Tyrell Malacia, drafted in from the Dutch club Feyenoord. He’ll soon be joined, it seems, by Lisandro Martínez, an Argentine defender, and Christian Eriksen, a Danish midfielder, and Frenkie de Jong, currently with Barcelona, and possibly even Brazilian forward Antony.
The link, of course, is that they all made their names in the same place. Martínez and Antony both currently play for Ajax, the team from which United plucked ten Hag. De Jong was the centerpiece of the Ajax side ten Hag took to within 30 seconds or so of the Champions League final. Eriksen emerged there, more than a decade ago.
Ten Hag had considered signing Malacia when he still worked at Ajax. There is no reason to believe that any of these play ers will be anything less than a success. They should all understand what ten Hag wants.
On one level, this is United doing exactly what should be done: recruiting players that fit with its manager’s way of doing things. On another, it’s a club repeating the same old mistakes. Ten Hag arrived at a time when United was keen to portray itself as instituting a cultural reset of sorts. The club has a lead data scientist these days. It has several dozen directors of football. It wishes to be seen as a very modern place.
And yet, despite all that, it is abundantly clear that United has set out to sign half a dozen players specifically requested by its new manager. There is no longterm thinking here. There is no core identity being pursued.
TRUTH, ADJUSTED FOR CURRENT CIRCUMSTANCES
Barcelona has been very clear that it doesn’t want to sell de Jong. It must be telling the truth, too, because it keeps saying it, over and over again.
It makes it slightly strange, then, that Barcelona and United are currently negotiating a business transaction that would — on some basic, fundamental level — involve Barcelona, well, selling de Jong. A fee has even been agreed, according to reports, one that would earn back most of the money Barcelona paid
Ajax to sign de Jong three years ago. Perhaps Laporta is simply telling a story that he thinks his fans want to hear.
That, certainly, is a more appealing prospect than the other story that might be told about Barcelona, the one in which de Jong’s transfer is being held up because the club owes him money — he had deferred a portion of his salary in order to ease Barcelona’s financial troubles, and would presumably like to know how that debt will be settled before he leaves — and in which Laporta has suggested that the only way for the player to stay is if he agrees to a salary “adjustment”.
This has, over the last year or so, become a fairly standard Barcelona play. Its players are asked to renegotiate the terms of their payment so as to help stabilise the team’s finances.
Most have, to their great credit, agreed. Few seem to have objected when the club has then immediately spent money adding even more players to the roster, and to its wage bill.
At some point, the players will get wise to this, of course. It is not clear, even now, why anyone would sign for a club that has made a habit of failing to meet its contractual obligations, of pleading poverty to its current employees while soliciting new ones, of risking its long-term future because it refuses, point blank, to listen to the story it needs, rather than wants, to hear.
