We’ll get on to the more pressing business of whether Michael Carrick deserves the full-time Manchester United job in a moment. There’s plenty to discuss: tactics and philosophy, character and comportment, the squad he inherited from Ruben Amorim and how United might strengthen it in the summer window. But first: I want you to imagine eating an entire dover sole with the bones left in, while under the gaze of the former England international Trevor Francis.
You’re in a fancy restaurant in Birmingham. You’re 18 years old, and have ordered the fish with potatoes on the assumption that it will essentially be a posh chippy supper. The sole arrives, the waiter asks whether you want it filleted, and because you don’t know what that means, you say no. Immediately you feel the painful prickles on your tongue, the unsatisfying gnash of skeletal marine matter between your teeth. Naturally, you don’t want to look rude or foolish in front of your new manager. So you put on a brave face, and keep chewing. Meanwhile, Trevor Francis keeps watching.
