So, Ruben Amorim has been tossed into the Manchester canal after just 14 months. Shocker. I’ve seen avocados in my kitchen last longer than a United manager’s “long-term project.” And right on cue, like a malfunctioning grandfather clock, Gary Neville has emerged to demand we hire someone who fits the “Manchester United DNA.”

But here’s the kicker: across the ocean, in the humid heart of Malaysia, Selangor FC—the “Red Giants”—are performing the exact same tragic comedy. Both clubs are obsessed with a “DNA” that doesn’t exist anymore, acting like middle-aged men trying to fit into the slim-fit jeans they wore in 1999.

Now, some pedants will point out that Manchester United does have a hierarchy. They have Jason Wilcox and the remnants of the Dan Ashworth era. They have the titles, the London offices, and the spreadsheets. But as of this week, they are looking for another manager. Why? Because having a Technical Director without a rigid, club-wide Technical Playbook is like having a conductor without a musical score. You have the man waving the stick, but the orchestra is still playing three different songs at once.

United’s “Identity Crisis” persists because the hierarchy and the manager are rarely on the same page. If the board wants “The United Way” but hires a manager whose tactical playbook is “The Portuguese Wing-Back Way,” the blueprint ends up in the shredder by Christmas.

Selangor is essentially the Manchester United of Southeast Asia. Huge history, massive expectations, and a tendency to treat head coaches like seasonal fashion—discarded as soon as the results go out of style.

Selangor’s “Project 2026” and the much-vaunted United’s INEOS Three-Year Plan are mirror images of the same struggle. Both clubs have officially announced “plans,” yet both seem perpetually punched in the mouth by reality. Selangor’s recent move to bring in Kim Pan-gon as head coach while shifting Christophe Gamel into the Technical Director role is a classic attempt to fix this identity rot. It’s an admission that a coach needs a “Technical Partner” to ensure the club doesn’t just spin its wheels.

A professional football club expresses its DNA through a documented structure. Without it, you aren’t a club; you’re just a collection of expensive individuals in matching shirts.

The Playbook serves as the “manager-proofing” of a club. It dictates three non-negotiable pillars:

• The Game Model: Defining how the team behaves in all four phases of the game.
• The Positional Profiles: Ensuring recruitment is data-driven. If the playbook says your “Number 6” must be a deep-lying playmaker, you don’t let a manager sign a “destroyer” just because they shared an agent.
• The Academy Alignment: Ensuring the U12s speak the same tactical language as the First Team.

The reason for the poor retention of managers at both Old Trafford and Shah Alam isn’t a lack of talent; it’s a lack of institutional backbone.

United and Selangor are so desperate to return to their “Glory Days” that they keep looking for a “Messiah” to save them. But modern football isn’t about Messiahs; it’s about Systems. Until both clubs stop treating their Technical Directors like glorified personal assistants and start treating their Technical Playbooks like Holy Scripture, they will remain expensive museums for fans who refuse to accept that the 90s are over.