The Ashworth Saga: A Red Devil Comedy…
In a saga wilder than a squirrel on energy drinks, Dan Ashworth’s stint at Manchester United could be summarised as short, spicy, and as explosive as a tabasco-laden jalapeño. Like a football Yoda temporarily relocating to a galaxy far, far away, Ashworth swooped in with a four-man mission: save United’s squad from intergalactic mediocrity. Alas, he only managed to clutch three of his chosen space warriors before teleporting back to obscurity. Jarrad Branthwaite slipped through like a greased football in a learner’s hands, while De Ligt, Zirkzee, and Ugarte became Ashworth’s three caballeros.
De Ligt arrived with the force of a hurricane, but his start was as bumpy as a football on a cobbled street. Eventually, he figured out Manchester was not Mars, found his groove, and started making humans of opposition attackers. Meanwhile, Joshua Zirkzee aimed to be United’s scoring superstar but ended up like a magician with disappearing goals—scoring them was like finding a unicorn on a midweek match. With fewer goals than a snail race scorecard, he’s leaving fans scratching their heads, wondering if he’s a trickster in disguise.
Ugarte, the midfield knight, showed mad skills at snatching the ball but turned into a phantom when it came to passing forward. His progress was as stagnant as a stopped clock, leaving fans to wonder if he left his passing boots on the other side of the channel. As for completing Ashworth’s magnificent quartet, it seems less likely than finding a snowman in July. Branthwaite, with a fresh Everton contract, now sits on a golden pedestal, laughing at any thought of heating up the Old Trafford stage any time soon. David Moyes is no doubt cheering in his Evertonian cave, cackling cryptically at United’s comedy of would-be conquests.
