Watching Jadon Sancho’s first 15 months at Manchester United has been a frustrating pursuit, like a video that buffers every few seconds and skips back each time.
Sancho has played more than 50 matches since his return as the second-most expensive English player in history, but how many of his performances can you actually, honestly, remember?
Now he’s not even the most expensive 22-year-old winger in the squad.
The moments of brilliance, when they did arrive, only served to reinforce the regret that they were not more commonplace.
Take those glorious six days in November 2021 when Sancho scored his first and second goals in red against Villarreal and Chelsea: the shimmies, the moments of clarity before shooting, the palpable relief in his celebrations. And then 10 more weeks until the next goal or assist.
There were obvious explanations for this extended rut; few of them were his fault. Sancho missed preseason through injury. He played under three different head coaches in his first eight months. He was signed as the marquee attacking arrival by a club which then subsequently broke open a bottle of neat nostalgia and ordered Cristiano Ronaldo on eBay.
Sancho could probably have coped with one Portuguese teammate who demanded to dominate; two were suffocating.
Rather than roaming and switching positions to surprise and unnerve defenders, Sancho was restricted to one position. Most frustrating of all was the way he would play a pass and make an unrequited dart forward. Sancho’s repeated, unsuccessful runs began to feel like eavesdropping on an awkward first date.
There is nothing particularly new about all of this. If Manchester United’s last decade is defined by anything, it is the dividends paid to majority shareholders while the club haemorrhages money and the black hole into which their most expensive signings seem to dive. They have spent roughly a billion pounds on new players and have only a few unqualified successes to show for it.
But this one hit a little harder and stung a little more. Even at 20, Sancho appeared to possess a collection of attributes that might make him immune to the Manchester United mega transfer curse.
He was also one of the leaders of A New England, players who had bags of technical ability, ruthless dedication to fulfilling their potential and had skewered the point at which confidence and swagger met. They were children with the deliberate assurance of grandmasters.
Sancho had never been provided with much beyond his talent. He was born in Kennington, south London into a family that wanted for plenty, and he understood remarkably quickly the unique chance he – and football – had to deliver it.
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Everything happened at hyper-speed: an academy at seven, leaving home at 12, moving to Manchester at 14 and leaving for Germany at 17. None of this was easy but, in Sancho’s eyes, all of it was necessary. Time and excellence wait for no man who delegates any of his own control.
The Borussia Dortmund move in particular took courage. Sancho was telling the club with arguably the best youth coaches, arguably the best manager and arguably the best prospects in world football that he wanted to leave because he felt that he knew better. We know how this can be interpreted when it goes awry. Sancho was proved right, by the production in Germany and the senior England debut at 18.
And then, when the super club move inevitably came, Sancho seemed to have made his first wrong call when it mattered most. This was the homecoming with no natural home, simply a man wandering through the Manchester United fog. Premier League Jadon Sancho somehow felt farther away than Bundesliga Jadon Sancho ever did.
Finally, this season there are signs of change. Some of the smothering Manchester United crisis has eased. The new manager helps; Ole Gunnar Solskjaer was too laissez-faire, and Ralf Rangnick was too rigid.
Sancho hopes that Erik ten Hag will be his Goldilocks coach and has already spoken about simultaneously being given plans and freedom. Sancho’s smile is back and some of the swagger too. His composure for the opening goal against Liverpool made you yelp involuntarily.
We are still awaiting the full reawakening, marked by feints and tricks and one-twos and the adoration of Old Trafford. Jadon Sancho has climbed higher walls than a spell of poor form, but his rise was fuelled by an impatience to bring the future closer to today. It’s time to move on from a year stuck in the present.
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