You might not have noticed this, but Manchester United aren’t doing very well this season. So poorly in fact, that they no longer appear anywhere near the top of a Google search for “Premiership table”. The all-conquering Salford machine has occupied seventh place for the whole of 2014 so far. It’s the kind of season, funnily enough, that Everton would consider steady but a tad disappointing. It’s too early to consign United dominance to the history books, but right now they appear not to be the team they once were.

Now, you may also be unaware that United have also changed their manager this season. Undoubtedly, you will have noticed that prevailing football opinion is starting to link the change of boss with the sharp downturn in form.

This is a reasonable enough hypothesis, of course, and there is some merit to it. It has been fairly clear to most observers in recent years that United were over-achieving thanks to the Ferguson factor. Driven by the great Scot’s legendary will to win, United were outperforming the stronger squads at Chelsea and Manchester City (and indeed a stronger first team at Arsenal). With a limited midfield, an elderly defence, an inexperienced keeper and an inconsistent attack, the manager was the only part of last season’s United who looked like title material on the face of things.
It’s true, also, that Moyes’ own decisions justify some of the criticism he has received. Marouane Fellaini, while familiar to the manager, seemed an odd fit for a United team whose midfield needed creativity and pace, and some of the points made about Moyes’ tactics have been fair. But we shouldn’t overstate those factors; Ferguson bought many worse players than Fellaini, and prodigious though his managerial strengths were, tactics wasn’t among them.

Ferguson could be afforded his share of the blame for this season’s form; his succession planning has been questioned. The United side he handed over to Moyes hardly brimmed with youthful promise. The team’s great players are rather old, and their young players, as yet, aren’t that great. Yet we should look beyond this factor, too, not least because tricky generational transitions are inherent to sport. Success is built on continuity, and in its turn success breeds contentment; the effect of this is that successful teams stay together a long time, and successful players grow old in their roles. Like most people in high-pressure jobs, sports coaches are risk-averse, and they’re loathe to blood the next generation if it means breaking up a winning team.

The underlying problem is that while stability breeds success, a managerial change is a destabilising act. Managers must change sometimes, but the structure of English clubs and the culture of our game exacerbate the problem. When Moyes arrived at Manchester United, he promptly dispensed with the services of established coaches, bringing in his own team from Everton. A great deal of experience walked out of the door, and with it some of the key day-to-day relationships with the players. One has to question whether the established working relationship between Moyes and his Everton team (Steve Round, Phil Neville, Jimmy Lumsden and Chris Woods) is really going to be worth more to the club than the bonds the old coaching staff had built with the squad.

It’s only fair to note that United aren’t unusual in this. In fact, they probably respect continuity more than most clubs. It’s entirely commonplace for coaching and scouting staffs to be rotated wholesale when managers change. But if we consider the most successful cross-generational dynasty in the British game – Liverpool from Shankly to Dalglish – then what stands out is that through the management changes, the legendary “boot room” stayed the same; a system from which each manager in turn was drawn and which stayed in place around him. It is no coincidence that Liverpool’s dominance came to an end when Dalglish was replaced by Graeme Souness.

The Director of Football system is often pilloried, which is not surprising given how ineptly it has sometimes been used. But it is operated very successfully on the continent, and its watchword is continuity. It can create a single point of report for the technical staff, a backroom team and culture that remain steady over the years, and skilled teams of trainers and scouts who can work to the requirements of whoever fills the role of Head Coach from time to time. The system requires a determined and sophisticated chairman, adaptable and confident staff, and a head coach who understands the role. For now, English football remains enthralled with the cult of the all-dominating manager, a figure whose time may well have passed. Ferguson was the last and, many would say, the greatest of the old breed, but the future may lie another way.