Kag
Full Member
Couldn’t really disagree much more with your ultimate conclusions, to be frank.
Of the three, Van Gaal remains the only manager that formed an idea. He knew what he wanted his team to be, even if it never got close to getting there. It was dull, but there was the nugget of an ideology; one that had served him well elsewhere. That ideology managed to piece together the best football we’ve seen post Ferguson, for a small period, even if it wasn’t sustained. The other two didn’t even begin to manage that. They stumbled around taking aim at whoever they could, manufacturing targets for political purpose.
Van Gaal won the FA Cup. Maybe I’m somewhat romantic, but that trophy is worth more than the League and Europa put together. It’s a proper trophy, that.
I know that the football under Van Gaal drove some United supporters into relative despair; I’m not going to undermine this. It was dross, particularly during the first half of his second season. But I would still argue that he’s the only manager that never really lost the players, or the fans. The players played for him. In hindsight, they speak very highly of him. They learned a lot from him. Giggs and Carrick are both on record; they use his knowledge in their practice. He was under all sorts of scrutiny from the press and never once dragged the club through the mud to save his own reputation (he has since, granted, but not then). Moyes didn’t either, to be fair, minus the odd comment here and there.
This is where Mourinho begins to confirm his status as the worst United manager in living memory. Poisonous. He was happy to tear the club apart; burn it to the ground. All to rescue his warped view of the world. I’d never been as disinterested in football in my life. I didn’t watch the games during the third season, not because we were losing games (I don’t really give a shit) but because it was no longer about Manchester United. It was about the one man trying to convince the world of his greatness, without the humour that Van Gaal would bring to the table, or the sheer desperation of a sinking Moyes.
Then there’s the football aspect of the debacle. He bought an entire new first team to the tune of half a billion pounds. Minus De Gea, (at the time) the world’s best goalkeeper, and Shaw, no mug, he bought players to replace every single player in the first team. He spunked it; blurted it right up the wall. All the while playing defeatist football against inferior times and using the players to shield him from the consequences of his inadequacies.
As for Moyes, well, it wasn’t to be. He was never the man. All I will say is that it’s taken seven years for me to truly appreciate just how much of a difficult job that really was. I thought a few midfielders and a new left back to replace Evra would do the trick. In truth, it was never really about that. The reality is that the Glazers, Gill and Ferguson had allowed the whole club to fester and fall backwards. I mean, the sophistication of our entire scouting strategy seemed to boil down to the knowledge of Ferguson and his brother Martin. Moyes was a donut but he never really stood a chance.
To summarise, then: Van Gaal > Moyes > Mourinho.
Only one made me play a round of golf instead.
Of the three, Van Gaal remains the only manager that formed an idea. He knew what he wanted his team to be, even if it never got close to getting there. It was dull, but there was the nugget of an ideology; one that had served him well elsewhere. That ideology managed to piece together the best football we’ve seen post Ferguson, for a small period, even if it wasn’t sustained. The other two didn’t even begin to manage that. They stumbled around taking aim at whoever they could, manufacturing targets for political purpose.
Van Gaal won the FA Cup. Maybe I’m somewhat romantic, but that trophy is worth more than the League and Europa put together. It’s a proper trophy, that.
I know that the football under Van Gaal drove some United supporters into relative despair; I’m not going to undermine this. It was dross, particularly during the first half of his second season. But I would still argue that he’s the only manager that never really lost the players, or the fans. The players played for him. In hindsight, they speak very highly of him. They learned a lot from him. Giggs and Carrick are both on record; they use his knowledge in their practice. He was under all sorts of scrutiny from the press and never once dragged the club through the mud to save his own reputation (he has since, granted, but not then). Moyes didn’t either, to be fair, minus the odd comment here and there.
This is where Mourinho begins to confirm his status as the worst United manager in living memory. Poisonous. He was happy to tear the club apart; burn it to the ground. All to rescue his warped view of the world. I’d never been as disinterested in football in my life. I didn’t watch the games during the third season, not because we were losing games (I don’t really give a shit) but because it was no longer about Manchester United. It was about the one man trying to convince the world of his greatness, without the humour that Van Gaal would bring to the table, or the sheer desperation of a sinking Moyes.
Then there’s the football aspect of the debacle. He bought an entire new first team to the tune of half a billion pounds. Minus De Gea, (at the time) the world’s best goalkeeper, and Shaw, no mug, he bought players to replace every single player in the first team. He spunked it; blurted it right up the wall. All the while playing defeatist football against inferior times and using the players to shield him from the consequences of his inadequacies.
As for Moyes, well, it wasn’t to be. He was never the man. All I will say is that it’s taken seven years for me to truly appreciate just how much of a difficult job that really was. I thought a few midfielders and a new left back to replace Evra would do the trick. In truth, it was never really about that. The reality is that the Glazers, Gill and Ferguson had allowed the whole club to fester and fall backwards. I mean, the sophistication of our entire scouting strategy seemed to boil down to the knowledge of Ferguson and his brother Martin. Moyes was a donut but he never really stood a chance.
To summarise, then: Van Gaal > Moyes > Mourinho.
Only one made me play a round of golf instead.