Bunny dancing and selfies... what must Sir Alex make of it all?
The look on Jose Mourinho’s face says it all. he is turning around, scowling in irritation, his hand raised in a universally understood gesture. Stop. And so it has come to this.
The Manchester United manager papped by one of his own players. What is the obsession this United team has with selfies and social media? Can’t they see the league table? Don’t they know they are eighth?
There are all manner of theories around why Sir Alex Ferguson decided it was time to step away from football.
What is certainly true is that, had he remained, he would have increasingly felt a man out of time.
Ferguson wrote a few books, but he wasn’t one for ceaselessly documenting every step of his day. The image of Mourinho having to tell eric Bailly not to take pictures as he sat in the directors’ box, having been sent to the stands against Burnley, sums up the vacuous nature of the modern dressing room.
United, and Mourinho, are fighting for their lives right now. Forget about isolation in The Lowry, another season outside the Champions League would be the real disaster, and it is one that is becoming altogether more feasible with a quarter of the campaign gone.
Finding no way through against Burnley, Mourinho’s frustration was compounded by being sent off for confronting referee Mark Clattenburg at half-time. how did Bailly see that as a photo opportunity? how could he be so unaware that he stuck a camera in his manager’s face in the week he complained of being under siege from paparazzi every time he left his Manchester hotel base?
Mourinho, obviously, was concentrating on the game. Bailly should have been, too. Yes he is injured until after Christmas — but, really, was there nothing he could learn from simply watching the match? Nothing he might pick up about his new team-mates, nothing that would be of use when he returns? What about input in post-match discussions? United are in crisis. Get your head out of your Twitter feed and make a contribution.
Not that Bailly is unique. Remember Arsenal’s celebration selfies after beating Leicester last season, before a catastrophic slump helped hand the trophy to the most unlikely champions of all time?
The modern player has strangely skewed priorities. Take Paul Pogba. The world’s most expensive footballer has had, by most estimations, an ordinary time since arriving at Old Trafford.
he was never going to make the goalscoring impact of Lionel Messi or Cristiano Ronaldo but, for £89million, United had good reason to expect an upgrade on Tom Cleverley. Instead, Pogba has been largely anonymous by his standards, insipid in a team desperate for momentum.
This can happen. Michael essien became a monster in Chelsea’s midfield but was disappointing in his first year. So was Didier Drogba. The relentless physicality of the Premier League can be a shock, even to a player of Pogba’s stature.
he should still come good. In his current form, however, it might be an idea to lower the profile until he truly has something to advertise.
Yet there was Pogba on Instagram on Monday, cavorting in a hallowe’en scary rabbit costume for his 10million followers.
What would Ferguson have made of that? he was smart enough to know that young footballers needed to let off steam and the football world he grew up in had changed, but certain principles remained. he was never one for players whose brand outweighed their performances on the pitch.
The ‘Pogbunny’, as the Instagram creature was known, was intended as harmless fun and no doubt attracted considerable attention, as desired. But wasn’t Pogba’s football supposed to do that?
he stars in a new adidas commercial, purporting to show his evolution as a footballer. There he is playing keepy-up with a melon in the market, annoying the neighbours by kicking a ball against a wall at home, on the school playing field, dazzling team-mates in training, finally performing the impossible at Old Trafford. ‘I am here to create,’ is the slogan. But create what? A Pogbunny?
In the ad, Pogba is the name on everybody’s lips and the Instagram account feeds that commercial entity, those hits. But are real people, not actors, talking about Pogba’s football now? Only when discussing what £89m buys these days.
Maybe Mourinho wonders that, too. he has time to kill at his hotel. If he follows social media he will have seen Pogba dancing, Pogba at play, Pogba on holiday, Pogba with the stars, Pogba touring the planet’s coolest destinations and biggest A-list events, Pogba modelling, Pogba the meme.
What he won’t have greatly noticed is Pogba the world-record transfer, Pogba the match-winner, Pogba the game-changer.
Ferguson would surely demand the other Pogbas were reined in, until the Pogba he had paid for arrived.
Wayne Rooney said that when the United team bus was attacked outside West ham’s ground last season, his first act, as captain, was to tell the players not to post any material from inside the coach. Be dignified. This is Manchester United and we’re here to win a football match, was his message.
Too late. Jesse Lingard’s faux-terrified footage was already up, running and everywhere. United’s players looked as if they thought it was all a giggle; they lost and did not qualify for the Champions League. #Fail.
If even Rooney is made to feel old, if Mourinho occasionally despairs, one wonders what Ferguson, the elder statesman, makes of it all. he probably thinks he’s just as well looking on these days. Old Trafford is no country for old men. Not now the bunnies have come home to roost.