Erik ten Hag may have departed from Manchester United, but the echoes of his tenure still reverberate through English football. His story is a case study of how fleeting success, emotional decisions, and strategic miscalculations can cost a club dearly.
United’s decision to renew his contract following a thrilling FA Cup final win against Manchester City seemed bold, even optimistic. But three months into the new season, after spending more than £180 million in the summer transfer window and collecting just 11 points from nine league games, Ten Hag was dismissed.
His departure wasn’t an isolated expense. Along with Ten Hag, sporting director Dan Ashworth and multiple staff members were shown the door—costing the club an additional £14.5 million. In total, United poured around £200 million into an effort that ended in upheaval, disrupting the current season and leaving a cautionary blueprint for others to avoid. This is the trap no club wants to fall into again.
Football is rarely about identical circumstances, but history has a tendency to repeat itself in echoes. Clubs often respond to past errors with overcorrections—swinging from idealistic visionaries to rigid pragmatists. It’s a pattern reminiscent of the old ecclesiastical adage about alternating between the “fat pope” and the “thin pope,” swinging wildly between extremes.
Even by United’s own chaotic standards, keeping Ten Hag became a questionable decision. Whispered conversations with potential replacements while a manager remains in charge naturally erode trust. Every executive now understands the importance of avoiding the Ten Hag trap. Winning a trophy is no longer a guarantee of job security—an unsettling truth for managers like Ange Postecoglou and Rúben Amorim.
For Amorim, the danger remains hypothetical for now. But his situation highlights the ruthless nature of modern football ownership. Sir Jim Ratcliffe, much like Britain’s sailing legend Sir Ben Ainslie, is known for being direct—even brutal.
Whether it’s terminating a manager, canceling lunch packages, or slashing steward bonuses, Ratcliffe doesn’t hesitate. The primary concern surrounding Amorim isn’t his skill, but whether his stylistic approach fits the squad. Replacing a coach is almost always cheaper than rebuilding an entire team around a footballing philosophy.
Thursday’s dramatic Europa League quarter final against Lyon has, however, bolstered Amorim’s standing. It was a reminder that football’s greatest moments stem from the chaotic blend of tension, heartbreak, and brilliance.
The final minutes at Old Trafford, when midfielders Kobbie Mainoo and defender Harry Maguire were deployed as emergency forwards and both found the net, offered one of those rare, unforgettable memories. Fans will forgive many missteps for moments like these—moments that a routine 2–0 win could never deliver.
For Amorim, that win could be his defining one—just as Jürgen Klopp’s 4–3 victory over Borussia Dortmund in the 2016 Europa League was for him. That win didn’t bring silverware, but it solidified Klopp’s project in the eyes of Liverpool’s hierarchy.
United’s own 4–3 FA Cup win over Liverpool last season may have promised the same for Ten Hag. In hindsight, Amad Diallo’s extra-time winner now looks less like a turning point and more like a seductive illusion.
Postecoglou’s position at Tottenham is even more precarious. It’s entirely plausible that he could guide the club to Europa League glory and still part ways at season’s end. Meanwhile, United may persist with Amorim despite ending the year trophyless.
But Thursday was a good night for Postecoglou. It was arguably Spurs’ finest away performance since their 4–0 win over Manchester City last November.
Tottenham’s defensive solidity appears overly reliant on the extraordinary pace of Micky van de Ven—a vulnerability, perhaps, but also a reminder of the tools available to a coach. Not every tactic needs to be universally applicable if the personnel make it effective. And in Frankfurt, Spurs became only the fourth team this season to win at Deutsche Bank Park—a ground that has frustrated many visitors.
It’s worth noting that Tottenham’s annual wage bill is nearly triple that of Eintracht Frankfurt, a disparity that mirrors Postecoglou’s aggressive footballing model. At Celtic, it worked because he had superior resources. In the Europa League semi finals against Bodø/Glimt, we will see just how far that advantage stretches.
The potential glory for Spurs shouldn’t be dismissed, but it requires context. Injuries, particularly in defense, disrupted the team’s rhythm and sapped confidence. By the time some stability returned, their league campaign had already lost relevance. Still, once the early-season momentum faded, Postecoglou’s adaptation to the Premier League looked less convincing.
Tottenham’s hunger for success is palpable, yet paradoxically, they remain quick to discard managers even when success is achieved. Juan de Ramos, the last man to bring silverware to the club with a League Cup win in 2008, was sacked just eight months later with Spurs languishing at the bottom of the table. It was an early glimpse of the Ten Hag trap. As José Mourinho often reminds us, he was dismissed just days before the 2021 League Cup final—a decision few top clubs would have made.
The absence of trophies haunts Tottenham, but so too does their complicated relationship with them. Perhaps the best path for a coach hoping for long-term survival in North London is to aim for “a particular kind of failure”—where Champions League qualification is prioritized over actual titles, ensuring financial comfort over risky glory.
This speaks to a broader tension in football management: the conflict between two opposing philosophies. One favors stability, predictable wins, and smooth operations that please executives. The other thrives on the drama and unpredictability that captivate fans—moments like Thursday night at Old Trafford that defy logic but ignite the soul of the sport.
Executives will always choose dependability. Business success rarely rests on 114th-minute miracles from makeshift strikers. Fans may revel in those moments, but for ownership groups, long-term planning and financial stability are the real goals. Especially now, in an era hyper-aware of the risks posed by the Ten Hag trap, decision-makers know that even glory can be deceptive.