Colin Sheridan: In many ways, birth as a gaffer was the death of Ole Gunnar Solskjaer

His legacy as a club legend will be unharmed by this stuttering stint, so long as it comes to an end sometime over the next eight months

Since Ole Gunnar Solskjær took over at Old Trafford, there has been almost an expectant air that his demise would soon become him. His ship may have just struck ice but his difficult week may inspire a plucky run that will prolong everyone’s agony, says Colin Sheridan. Picture: Getty Images

There are two ways to approach this. Both conclude — I believe — in the same place. The first is practised by those who can, writers and journalists with the abilities and bandwidth to deep-dive the bejaysus out of something. To meet petrified sources on damp Manchester street corners and turn the information they get into tangible intelligence. These guys will embed themselves with a team as if a hack joining an infantry platoon in the Muong Hoa Valley during the Vietnam war. They will pour over xG equations and study market trends. They will adopt radical methods such as actually going to football matches and asking questions at press conferences. From these experiences, they write great stories about why Manchester United should stick or twist when it comes to their manager, Ole Gunnar Solskjær. Their opinions are immaculately researched and reasoned and they should be listened to. Thank God for these people. They genuinely make our lives better.

There is a second way. Let’s call it ‘My Way’. This method requires no deep dives and no embedding. It mostly consists of the intermittent and broken consumption of podcasts and long-read articles related to the subject in question. Eavesdropping in coffee shops and speakeasies. A vague idea of recent results and league tables. A polyamorous relationship with Match of the Day. Little or no knowledge of what Alex Telles looks like, or that the player McFred is in fact two people, not one. Mine is the method of the everyman eye test, practised by a mind completely unencumbered by knowledge. The mile-wide-inch-deep luke-warm hot-take that can only come from somebody who hasn’t been paying much attention, but for whom the truth is plainly obvious. Yes, I have watched United twice in 12 months and I am absolutely convinced I know what is going on. Ole Gunnar Solskjaer should not be the manager of a Sainsbury’s in the city, let alone a football club. He looks like a guy who won some sort of competition. Like Eddie Murphy in the movie Trading Places. Maybe he knows a secret about Alex Ferguson, or he is related to Ed Woodward. Whatever it is, it makes no sense whatsoever. This is Ted Lasso levels of subversion.