Man United used to win. That’s Man U. Manchester United. The team used to play with strength, clarity, fire. The players knew what they were doing. The club too. Unfortunately this may no longer be the case. ‘Glory is fleeting, but obscurity is forever,’ as Napoleon warned.

To think that Old Trafford was the heart of something vast and dynamic. You felt it on the pitch, in the vocal cords of fans, through the crowded global networks. Now, chunks fall from the stadium roof. The crowd still comes but they’re singing from memory rather than hope. Okay, it’s still theatre. But the dreams have changed. The present script is pure F. Scott Fitzgerald: ‘So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.’

The majority American owners—the Glazers—live in dark grey suits under glossy green palm trees. They show themselves rarely. It’s unclear they even like football. They likely talk of revenue, growth, partners. Not goals. Not trophies. Not heart. Numbers, always numbers. Totals. Margins. Multiples. They don’t speak of football.

They bought the club with debt in 2005 since when they have taken out more than they’ve built. Shirts still sell. The brand expands. But the team—not entirely surplus to requirements—is diminishing. Just as wages are high and ideas seem muddled. A friend said to me last week, ‘Well, they own it. They can do whatever they want. Could turn it into a biscuit factory and sack the players if they liked. Fans forget they’re not shareholders.’ And then: ‘Of course, owners who don’t respect fans will lose money eventually. It’s a pathetic little dance, really. On both sides.’

Using the club as collateral was certainly not what the club was for. Through its roots, it was always the people’s game, for the people. As Albert Camus reminds us:........

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