The mishandling of Javier Hernandez: How a player in Man Utd's truest traditions became an outcast

Louis van Gaal turned to Ryan Giggs and Manchester United’s manager and his second in command exchanged a telling look. More telling, actually, than was immediately apparent. The penalty that, slipping, Javier Hernandez sliced wide against Club Brugge was his final meaningful contribution in a United shirt. Five days later, he joined the ranks of their ex-players.

He was announced as Bayer Leverkusen’s new signing, promptly, and seemingly pointedly, declared he was happy to be at a club where he was loved and wanted. Mexico’s most potent striker of a previous generation, Hugo Sanchez, went rather further by branding Van Gaal a “scoundrel” who had made 50,000 bad decisions.

His departure was both no surprise and evidence of confused thinking that led to fluctuating fortunes: relegated to fifth-choice forward 12 months ago, promoted to become Wayne Rooney’s deputy at the start of this season and told he was staying and then deemed surplus to requirements.

After being loaned out last season and only starting 16 of United’s last 119 league games, the warning signs were evident. That should not obscure the sense that a talent has been underused, if not wasted. Hernandez leaves Old Trafford as one of a comparatively elite group, the winners of the Sir Matt Busby award granted to those named the club’s footballer of the year. Voted United’s pre-eminent player in 2010-11, he became the resident 12th man before he was cast aside.

Even before Hernandez had played a competitive game for United, Sir Alex Ferguson had identified similarities with Ole Gunnar Solskjaer. He, too, seemed the ideal man to have in reserve. He invariably seemed sharp from the moment he was introduced. He was an instinctive finisher with a capacity to find space in even the most crowded of penalty boxes. He could shoot with very little backlift, saving that crucial fraction of a second that might have enabled a defender to block. He was a catalyst, a common denominator in comebacks, many of them crucial. He served as the personification of United’s indomitable spirit.

Think of Ferguson’s final season. Hernandez scored the winner at Stamford Bridge; he struck twice, including the decider, at Villa Park; he turned one point into three against Newcastle with an 89th-minute intervention. Only one of those goals came as a starter. He was, as Ferguson would readily admit, a fantastic finisher. He had the competitive courage the Scot prized. “A tough, wee cookie,” United’s greatest manager described him. Yet strengths seemed to count against him in selection decisions. He only actually began 49 league games for United. The temptation to put him on the bench, knowing he represented the finest available insurance policy, was just too great.

“With the exception of my first few months as a first-team member, I honestly hated being substitute,” wrote the former Liverpool forward David Fairclough in his recent autobiography. It is entitled Supersub. Fairclough, or his publishers, knows how and why he is remembered. Hernandez, like Solskjaer before him, found his rapier-like skills to be a double-edged sword.

Yet a smiling warrior took blows on an annual basis. The 2012 arrival of Robin van Persie reshaped United’s attack. The Dutchman was outstanding in his debut season but from then on, United have forwards have been separated by their status. There are the supposed superstars and the others. Hernandez, despite his vast popularity with the Mexican diaspora, always seemed bracketed in the second tier.

Rooney and Van Persie were afforded preferential treatment at times. So was Radamel Falcao, signed on reputation rather than reality, as an altogether blunter force was inserted ahead of Hernandez in the pecking order last summer.

The 2013 appointment of David Moyes brought other issues. Fresh from conjuring the most prolific season of Victor Anichebe’s career of largely unrewarded labour, the Scot seemed to see a similar project in Danny Welbeck. The Mexican was the fourth-choice forward.

If Moyes was scarcely the perfect manager for Hernandez, Van Gaal may have been even worse. The out-and-out goalscorer seems to find little favour from Netherlanders who like to tout their belief in Total Football. The Dutch disdain for the specialist predator seems apparent in Dick Advocaat’s attempts to turn Jermain Defoe into a winger. “I still think that he as a striker on his own is not good enough,” said the Sunderland manager on Saturday. It is easy to imagine Van Gaal having similar sentiments about Hernandez: apart from putting the ball in the net, he seems to think, what else does he do?

Such qualms seemed irrelevant when, with the carefree innocence of youth, Hernandez acquired such momentum that he was propelled to individual silverware in his debut season at Old Trafford. Only he, Van Persie, Cristiano Ronaldo and Ruud van Nistelrooy have made such an immediate impact that they won the Sir Matt Busby award in their maiden campaign; only he and Van Persie did it in a title-winning campaign.

It gave Hernandez his place in United history. He has been their player of the year as often as Giggs, David Beckham and Nemanja Vidic and more often than Paul Scholes, Rio Ferdinand, Patrice Evra, Edwin van der Sar and Peter Schmeichel. The honour seemed to herald the start of an illustrious United career; instead he spent much of his next match, the 2011 Champions League final, straying offside in a chastening defeat.

Now his name looks one of the three anomalies on the list of players United have recognised in their annual awards, along with Gabriel Heinze, who committed the ultimate sin by trying to join Liverpool, and Antonio Valencia, who was promptly rewarded with the iconic No. 7 shirt, shrunk within it and has faded into the background. The other winners will all go down as United greats or very goods.

Hernandez left seeming increasingly unfulfilled, sold when, at 27, he should be in his prime and for a fraction of the fee paid for the untried Anthony Martial. It should prompt questions about the mishandling of a player with a track record of making a major difference for United. Because, while his Old Trafford career ended ignominiously, he appeared a player in the club’s truest traditions.