By The Red Devil Ranter
Let me paint you a picture.
It’s a Wednesday. Cloudy skies over Carrington. United fans still emotionally concussed from a 15th-place finish.
We open Twitter (I refuse to call it X) and see the news:
“Manchester United announce plans for a £2 billion stadium redevelopment.”
Lovely stuff, right? New roof, more seats, maybe fewer leaks.
And then, not 24 hours later…
“Manchester United staff face wave of redundancies in cost-cutting restructure.”
Ah. There it is. That warm, familiar feeling of being emotionally mugged by your own club. Again.
“We’re Running Out of Cash” – Said the Billionaire
Sir Jim Ratcliffe – sorry, Sir Budget Ratcliffe – tells us the club is in a precarious financial situation. That we’ve got to make “difficult decisions.”
That redundancies are necessary to “streamline operations.”
Translation?
Lay off the receptionist so we can install a new champagne bar in the £2 billion stadium.
Because apparently, United are both completely skint and obscenely rich at the same time.
No money for staff meals, no chicken pies at half-time, and forget those £50 “Steward of the Week” envelopes.
But there’s always room in the budget for Mateus Cunha, Bryan Mbeumo, and a stadium so futuristic it might come with teleportation gates, robot bartenders, and a hologram of Sir Alex telling you to press
It’s so tone-deaf it makes Ed Woodward look like a working-class hero.
It’s not the fact people are being let go – that happens in football. It’s who.
Not the bloated executives.
Not the consultants who only show up to clap during PowerPoint presentations.
Not the Glazer-appointed deadweight who wouldn’t know a tactical transition if it tackled them in the corridor.
Nope. It’s long-time staff.
People who’ve kept the lights on through Fergie, Moyes, and the entire post-apocalyptic banter era.
People who’ve poured heart and soul into this club while we’ve been busy watching Phil Jones break down like a used Skoda.
Where’s the humanity?
How do you justify cutting them loose while greenlighting £50 million on two forwards in a system that barely gets the ball past halfway?
You want to save money?
Maybe don’t announce a £2 billion project the same week you start gutting the staff like a hedge fund raider at a hospital.
Enter: Gary “Lickspittle” Neville
And while we’re at it – where’s the scrutiny?
Where’s the outcry?
Oh, right. Our dear Gary.
Gary Neville, once the voice of fan fury, now the unofficial INEOS spokesperson, lapping up Sir Jim’s every word like it’s gospel.
“He’s making tough decisions.”
“He’s being brave.”
“He cares.”
Mate, he’s gutting the club while building a superstadium and you’re out here writing LinkedIn-style thought pieces about leadership.
Where’s the Gary who tore into the Glazers after a home draw against Burnley?
He’s gone. Replaced by a brand-safe co-owner apologist on Sky Sports who talks more about stadium vision than sporting structure.
It’s embarrassing. Not just for him – but for journalism in football. The so-called pundits have gone from watchdogs to lapdogs.
So What’s the Plan, INEOS?
Because right now, it looks like this:
- Lay off good people.
- Spend big on shiny things.
- Play the “we’re broke” violin when asked why we haven’t signed a midfielder.
- Gaslight fans into thinking it’s all part of the master plan.
Let me be crystal clear:
We don’t care how shiny the stadium is if the club inside it is rotting.
We don’t care how “elite” your vision is if the people who built this club from the inside are thrown aside like line-item expenses.
And we definitely don’t care about your spin when the product on the pitch looks like it was assembled by a PowerPoint wizard and a prayer circle.
Fix the football first.
Treat your people with dignity.
And maybe – just maybe – don’t insult our intelligence while doing it.
INEOS wanted power. Now they’ve got it.
But with that power comes the one thing no consultant ever accounts for:
Angry fans with long memories and loud voices.
And trust me, we’re just warming up.
