Another Man Utd meltdown: Brentford rip Ruben Amorim’s men apart 3-1

All Sports News Blitz’s Robert Bore had to say after watching his Manchester United team stumble 3-1 at the Gtech Community Stadium was:

Meh!

I've never been a fan of The Beatles. And I really hate 'Hey Jude'. I hate the fact that it was boomed out pre-match. I hate Brentford for playing it. I hate Brentford for beating us. I hate football.

And to think, I went into this game with a sprinkling of optimism.

Oh, silly me.

A thin squad, a thinner excuse

Conversely, Ruben Amorim's United went into the game without Amad Diallo - given dispensation to go home after a family bereavement - and the crocked Noussair Mazraoui, with Casemiro consigned to the sidelines after his early red card in the win against Chelsea last weekend.

Last weekend, a win. An actual win, against a good side. Well, against 10-man Chelsea, but we won't dwell.

I never saw the game as I treated Mrs Bore to drinks and fine dining, catching the final 10 minutes in a dodgy pub and Match of the Day highlights over a stodgy pizza.

I digress.

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Same old story, same old mistakes

United started well, but guess what, it happened again, didn't it?

Matheus Cunha looked to have been fouled on the edge of the Brentford box after a poor ball by my man Diogo Dalot, but referee Craig Pawson wasn't interested.

Instead, Jordan Henderson launched a ball forward and Maguire decided to try and play Bees frontman Igor Tiago offside 10 yards inside United's half.

He failed. Miserably.

The former Club Brugge man arced his run with millisecond precision and was then off towards Altay Bayindir's goal.

To be fair to the United keeper, there was little he could do as Tiago chested the ball slightly to his left, but then thunder-bastarded it in off the top of the left post. It was a belter, different from the rest.

Cunha flashed one wide, but it was a positive sign. Less positive was the set-piece risk, and United didn't care whether it was a throw-in or a corner.

Case in point: two headers that needed to be clawed out by Bayindir from under his own crossbar.

Or as it happened, the long ball, which had me reaching for the Arsenal corner Klaxon.

So when the hosts went two up, it was no surprise that it came from another long ball in behind.

This one was aimed left, and Tiago had time to chest it into Kevin Schade as Mathijs de Ligt got caught wrong side.

Schade needed no invitation and went for the by-line like a rat up a drain pipe. The German centred low, and while Bayindir got a hand to the ball, he could only scoop it into Tiago's path after he'd continued his run. He wasn't going to miss.  

It looked bad in real time. On replay, it was worse. Caught by another hoof, Tiago with an eternity to bring the ball down, De Ligt's positioning.

And Luke Shaw. My oh my, Luke Shaw. Ambling back in his own time while watching the calamity unfold, only to realise Tiago was now two yards away from him when he scored, and he should have been there to block.

Just rubbish. A complete lack of awareness. Just get rid.  

Sesko finally off the mark

However, as quickly as they had gotten themselves out of the game, United got themselves back.

Ugarte played the ball into Patrick Dorgu out left, and he swung his leg at the ball, which dropped right on Bees keeper Caoimhin Kelleher.

The former Liverpool man did a bit of a birdy flap under a bit of pressure from Mbeumo.

Benjamin Sesko headed the scraps goalward, but the Irishman saved. He tried again with his right foot, but Kelleher blocked again.

But we all know the third time's a charm, and the big Slovenian was finally off the mark with his left foot.

Seven games, 15 shots, he's up and running!

We were only 26 minutes in.

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Set-piece nightmares return

And then we had the lull, Cunha (twice) and Sesko both blocked with efforts, but the game took a breath, so much so that half-time came without any further drama.

The pandemonium of that 20-minute spell before Sesko's goal was horrifically bad, though.

What was being worked on all week? Coming up against a team where the old set-piece coach was now in charge and with a guy launching throw-ins like missiles, where was the plan?

Amorim referenced it pre-match, but the players clearly hadn't read the memo.    

Brentford didn't need to overload the midfield, like others this term, just plonk it on the United back three and wait for the afters.

Second-half struggles

Poor Amorim. He looked shell-shocked as he made his way to the bench for the second half, his hopes of first-time back-to-back Premier League wins at the helm hanging in the balance already.

Bayindir survived an early missile throw with a good catch at his near post.

Cunha then fired tamely at goal after linking up with Sesko and Mbuemo, but it was better and more direct, until Dalot did Dalot things and played a ball dead as Bruno Fernandes aimed to run in behind.

Fernandes, captain Bruno, hardly a mention so far as he struggled to get into the game before De Ligt gave a needless free-kick away on the Brentford left flank, which gave an opportunity to lump one into the box again. United survived this time.

Bruno, usually a good bet for a card when he is out of the game and frustrated, duly obliged before the hour after catching Dango Ouattara, and it seemed something needed to change.

Penalty drama, same result

There was movement on the United bench as Joshua Zirkzee and the lesser-spotted Mason Mount were limbering up, but it was Kobbie Mainoo and Leny Yoro who were readied.

Another set piece and more alarm bells, this time Sepp van den Berg just failing to get a full connection after Brentford had won the first contact on the edge of the United box.

But Ouattara should have made it three. Dalot got himself tied up in knots on his own by-line by the lively Schade, who cut back to the Burkino Faso frontman 10 or so yards out and in acres of space, but Bayindir saved the day.

But again, Fernandes and Ugarte were miles away from the danger. It should have been three.    

Maguire and Ugarte made way for the reinforcements, and United had 24 minutes plus stoppages to pull something out of the bag.

United's lifeline came after Dalot got lucky (watch it again, he never meant to play the ball where it went) and Cunha crossed early for Mbuemo, who was pulled back by Nathan Collins.

The penalty was given and Collins earned a yellow but was spared a red after a three-minute VAR delay and a triple Brentford substitution.

Stockley Park suggested Mbuemo didn't have control of the ball or some bollocks like that when he would have had control and be on goal had the defender not grabbed.  

Bruno waited, ball tucked under his arm, for longer than a radio news bulletin. All a bit atrocious really, the minutes ticked by.

Would it make a difference? Of course it would. This is United.

Kelleher guessed right and pushed the spot kick away. Almost a five-minute wait from the foul to the save.

(sighs)

Anyway, game back on.

Schade was carded after taking one for the team as United broke and Mount then replaced Shaw. Brentford threw on a couple more as well to freshen up their midfield.

De Ligt hooked one wide when Mark Hughes would have scored with a scissor-kick, and Zirkzee was on for Dorgu, whose last action was taking a yellow.

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Late push, same collapse

Brentford threatened again as the United midfield, or more precisely Bruno, stopped after failing to win a free-kick, and the Bees had the overload. United managed to scramble it clear.

The clock was ticking as Kelleher plucked an Mbuemo cross out of the air, and I noticed he was wearing skins. In September. Surely worth a booking in itself.

Zirkzee headed over as the eight minutes of added time started to ebb away, much like my hope, enthusiasm and sanity.

But there was more stress to come.

Mainoo inexplicably lost his footing with the ball at his feet and gave it back cheaply and poorly on the edge of the Brentford box.

The hosts broke one-touch and at speed as Yehor Yarmoliuk finally found Mathias Jensen, who decided what the hell and smashed it past Bayindir from range.

A rotten ending to a rotten night

And that was that. Again.

So let's call it what it was. It was shit.

And not one of those proud turds that look you back in the eye and salute to their own presence. It was a steaming bowl of diarrhoea. A lack of structure, no cohesion and borne of something poisonous.

Whether that is down to a manager who won't change his principles or a dressing room still harbouring too many frauds to the shirt, it doesn't really matter.

It's clearly not working.

And while I feel sorry for the Portuguese, his persistent rinse and repeat of a system has backed him into a corner he can't get out of.

There seems to be only one way he will. And the Brentford fans were serenading him with it at the end.

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