Erik ten Hag’s strange charisma is reigniting United’s fighting spirit

Football management is difficult – unless, of course, you’re a football writer. But otherwise – if you’re a football manager, say – it’s one of the hardest jobs there is, which is why almost everyone who tries it fails somewhere along the line.

That’s the case even if they end up at Manchester United, whose standing in the game since the second world war is down to the achievements of just two men: Matt Busby and Alex Ferguson. And what defines them, along with all the others who’ve enjoyed even moderate success in the role – Tommy Docherty, Ron Atkinson, Louis van Gaal and José Mourinho, as opposed to Frank O’Farrell, Dave Sexton, David Moyes and Ole Gunnar Solskjær – is charisma.

It’s not hard to fathom why. In his early days at Old Trafford, even Ferguson could be heard muttering “Big club, this”, and its exponential growth since then means that, almost a decade into the post-Ferguson years, charisma seems an essential quality for anyone hoping to prosper.

If Erik ten Hag has any, it is not immediately obvious. But as the saying goes: “One man’s charisma is another man’s absolutely intolerable nausea,” the quality often confused with loud, aggressive self-aggrandisement and exemplifying the toxic masculinity that has the made the world such an unedifying place.

True charisma is different, reliant neither on arrogance nor loquaciousness. Busby spoke only when necessary, while Ferguson – though he did inspire fealty with oratory – was similar, his influence underpinned by the sensitivity of his pastoral care.

Ten Hag understands this too, recently explaining that Marcus Rashford’s improvement comes thanks to a happy working environment. But close relationships aren’t built overnight, so in the meantime he will need his