New seasons are never new starts, not entirely. The sun may have been shining and the temperature in the mid‑20s. There may have been new kits on the pitch and new flags in the stands. There may have been an obsessive focus on the new signings. There may, among home fans, perhaps especially those refreshed in the new marquee behind the Stretford End, have been a giddy expectation that this season couldn’t be as bad as last for Manchester United. But the roots of a game run deep, stretching back into the mulch of the past. This was a game shaped by events last December.
Arsenal are good at set pieces; United are vulnerable to inswinging deliveries. In December last year Arsenal beat United 2-0 at the Emirates Stadium, both goals the result of corners. United had André Onana in goal for that one, but Tottenham had taken notice of the susceptibility to balls arced into the goalmouth, the way United struggled to protect their keeper.
Two weeks later, Spurs played United in the Carabao Cup. Altay Bayindir was in goal for that one and endured the indignity of being beaten direct from a corner by Son Heung-min.
United don’t like inswingers and Bayindir really doesn’t like inswingers. Declan Rice is good at taking inswingers. And so there was a certain inevitability to what happened after 13 minutes. United had looked vaguely threatening. Arsenal had been rattled enough to commit four fouls in that period. Then Arsenal won a corner from their left.
Rice whipped it in, Bayindir flapped and would have scored an own-goal had Riccardo Calafiori not nodded the ball in the line from the goal-line.
United, perhaps, could point to the way William Saliba, having grappled with Mason Mount, bumped into him just as the ball arrived, and perhaps, given the new directives to referees to crack down on holding, a foul could have been given. But then there were half a dozen incidents that could have been penalised one way or the other in the box from that one corner; any refereeing decision in such circumstances could not but feel arbitrary.
Fundamentally, with more decisive goalkeeping there wouldn’t have been an issue. David Raya’s assertive punch to clear an inswinging free-kick from Bruno Fernandes early in the second half, cuffing Matthijs de Ligt out of the way, showed the way to do it.
Maybe the analogy was never entirely apt. Maybe building from the foundations up doesn’t necessarily mean getting the defence right.
Maybe as football increasingly becomes about content production there is some sort of commercial logic in prioritising the goalscorers and the creators, the players who will look good clipped up or, to continue the metaphor, the spire, the ornamentation on the roof. But on the other hand, it doesn’t much matter if you’ve spent £200m on forwards if you’re going to concede goals like that. Particularly if you don’t then actually score yourself.
There were positive signs from both Bryan Mbeumo and Matheus Cunha but the most incisive United player, yet again, was Amad Diallo, who came off the bench to play at right wing-back 10 minutes into the second half. United, perhaps, would consider themselves unfortunate. Patrick Dorgu hit the post and Raya had to make seven saves, more than any other goalkeeper on the opening weekend. But only his reflex stop down to his left to keep out a Cunha effort from a narrow angle was a save that he would not necessarily be expected to make.
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To point out that United drew this fixture last season and that they’re therefore doing worse this season is on one level meaningless.
But equally this is a manager whose win percentage is 37.2%, the worst in half a century – and if United fail to win at Fulham next week, he will drop below both Frank O’Farrell and Wilf McGuinness to have the worst win percentage of any United manager since Herbert Bamlett, who was sacked in 1931. Context matters.
There was plenty of mitigation on Sunday afternoon. The closer you zoom in the more excuses can be found: a goalkeeping error, new players settling in, a couple of close-run things. But it won’t take many more bad results for faith in Amorim to wane. When form has been so bad, it’s only natural to catastrophise: if they don’t win at Craven Cottage, the next home match, against newly-promoted Burnley, takes on a ghastly aspect: not merely a game they should win, but a game they have to win.
This season is not discrete from the last. New signings, a resetting of the table, new hope, cannot erase the footfalls that echo in the memory. Poor results are a problem not only in themselves but for the impact they have on games to come: time present and time past are both perhaps present in time future.
