Manchester United take another small step towards sensibleness in Nottingham Forest win - The Warm-Up

It just keeps on happening. There are little wobbles in the performances, there are concerns about the squad depth, and there are jokes to be made, still, about the transfers and the value for money. But once again, Manchester United went into a potentially tricky game and came out with more or less the exact result they needed.

We don't get cc'd in on Erik ten Hag's prayers, but we're guessing last night's wishlist ran something like this. First, win. Second, win in such a way that he can rotate for the second leg. And third, not to get greedy, but some kind of half-decent showing for Antony, maybe a goal for Wout Weghorst, and overall just a general sense that losing to Arsenal was annoying but not devastating. And he got all of that. Somebody up there likes him.

United were shown at the Emirates that they aren't quite in the title conversation. Yet. But the first step towards that conversation is to achieve a basic level of predictable sensibleness, to start reliably beating all the teams that A Proper Big Club should be beating. And that's what has been most encouraging this season, from a United point of view: the return of the one-nils and two-nils and three-nils. A season being ticked away, job done after job done.

Marcus Rashford's evolution into Kylian Mrashford is perhaps the most important factor in this recent charge towards sensibleness. But it's worth noting the contributions that United's other two forwards made against Forest. Weghorst may not have been anybody's idea of a solution up front, least of all his own. But if he is, as he seems to be, a player who can move the ball around smartly and pick up the occasional poached goal, then that'll be just fine. Anthony Martial can do the former, when fit; Cristiano Ronaldo could do the latter, when bothered. Weghorst is better than both, is what we're sort-of saying.

And then there's Antony. Perhaps no player has ever done more to assert that there are footballers, and then there is the price that gets paid for footballers, and the latter is determined hardly if at all by the actual quality of the former. All prices are contextualised, and the context for this one is that United were desperate.

But the fact that United spent a small fortune on him doesn't mean he shouldn't be afforded all the usual caveats that come with youth and acclimatisation. It's also worth noting that he's probably played more than he should have done, given Jadon Sancho's long absence from the first team picture. In any case, The Warm-Up reckons that he brings one key attribute to United's right flank: a quality that we think of as stickiness.

That is, when the ball flies out to him and lands at his feet, it generally stays there for a little bit. Perhaps this is because he's decided to dribble into a cul-de-sac, or he's spinning round and round on the spot, or doing something equally unproductive. But generally speaking he's got the ball, and he's moving forward with it and with something like purpose, and the team are resetting and advancing with him.

Yes, we're basically saying "Look! This 82 million pound player! He can control the ball!" Yes, that is the very definition of faint praise. But in a world where everybody is trying to spring their pressing traps and get immediately back into a disarranged opponent, stickiness is a valuable attribute. So too is his bloodymindedness: a lot of what he tried against Forest didn't really come off, but he kept going.

More faint praise, perhaps. But the first test of any Manchester United player is how the weight of the shirt affects them, and he seems to bear it relatively comfortably. The second test is usefulness, or otherwise, and we'll wait and see on that score. But there's enough going on to suggest that waiting might be worth it, at least for the Warm-Up's money. Which is, admittedly, a good deal less than 82 million pounds.

How soon is too soon? When a club is hit with a 15-point penalty, with rumblings of more and maybe worse to come, presumably the players are all a little spooked. All that work, gone; all those plans, shredded. So, is it rude to get onto their agents the very same day?

Well, if you're not going to, some other unscrupulous swine definitely will be. We're betting that in the hours immediately following the announcement of Juventus' latest disgrace, Federico Chiesa's agent had to put his phone under a cushion and go for a walk. And that they then came home to a melted cushion.

The latest rumours have Arsenal making a move in the summer for less than £20m. And if that's true, then every other big and medium-sized club in the world needs to be getting in on that as well. That's not a steal. That's the Turin diamond heist.

Rumours are rumours, and pinches of salt are advisable. Perhaps Juventus will be fully restored on appeal, and all will continue as before. But it's instructive to compare this present scandal with the fallout from Calciopoli, when Juve were relegated down to Serie B. They lost some big players in the wake of that as well: Cannavaro to Real Madrid, Thuram and Zambrotta to Barcelona, Vieira and Ibrahimovic to Internazionale. But they kept Buffon, Nedved, Trezeguet, Chiellini and Alessandro Del Piero, and came straight back up.

Our point here isn't about who will stay or go. Rather, it's: what on earth has happened to Juventus? Who are the crown jewels now? Chiesa, of course. Dusan Vlahovic, probably. And then you've got Adrien Rabiot, Weston McKennie, a knackered Paul Pogba, a three-thousand-year-old Angel di Maria, a four-thousand-year-old Leonardo Bonucci…

In the wake of their enforced relegation, Juventus were able to say to a number of the best players in the world: stick around, we'll have an adventure, and even with a few big departures we have enough quality to be back at the top of Serie A in a few seasons. Here, for the moment, they're only in danger of relegation to mid-table, and yet it's hard to put anything like the same case together. The Old Lady just doesn't make fire sales like she used to.

As you might have guessed from the headline, this is the bit where we round up all the Everton-related nonsense of the last few hours. Everton are signing Arnaut Danjuma, except they aren't. Everton are appointing Marcelo Bielsa, except it might actually be Sam Allardyce, or perhaps they'll split the difference and go with Sean Dyche. And Everton are for sale, except they aren't.

Confused? Us too. The Guardian ran with the sale story a couple of days ago, with Farhad Moshiri apparently looking for more than £500m. That's about two hundred Michus, in old money. However, the BBC reckon the club isn't for sale: rather Moshiri is simply looking for a bit more outside investment. Building a new stadium is an expensive business, after all. So is sacking manager after manager. So too buying flop upon flop upon flop.

Everton as an investment opportunity? You can certainly describe the club as an underperforming asset, and not just on the field: that new stadium will presumably mean more money coming in on a weekly basis. It isn't too hard to imagine a version of Everton that is significantly better than this one. It might even be possible to get there quite quickly.

On the other hand, it isn't too difficult to imagine that Everton's existence is about to get a whole lot more exciting. They are in the relegation zone on merit, as one of the three worst teams in the Premier League. They are looking for a new manager because they need at best a firefighter, at worst a miracle worker. The atmosphere at Goodison has curdled beyond rancid and into something wholly new, a kind of seething and furious resignation. It's Arsenal next. Then they're off to Anfield. So sure, Everton look an expensive prospect now. But they might be a whole lot cheaper in a few months' time.

All managerial appointments are important, to a certain extent. But this one feels existential. A good job Everton always get these things right, hey, Bill. Bill? He's not listening.

We're simple people. Twitter user @bryansgunn makes a new video, we click play. That's out philosophy, and it's served us well this far.

Burnley's social media team are living and working on another planet. Who knew that one of football banter's most tired cliches - normal club pretends to sign Lionel Messi - could be reborn when fired through the internet's favourite film.

They play some nice stuff, sure. But the most pressing reason to see Burnley promoted is this: we want to see the content. Give us the content. We need the content.

A slightly unusual clip here, given that the Warm-Up doesn't speak German. We therefore have to take on trust that this referee isn't saying anything obscene, grotesque or otherwise inappropriate. Our apologies if that's so. Hopefully it was at least amusingly obscene.

But assuming nothing strange is happening, then here we have a referee explaining, on television, why he made a decision that really annoyed RB Leipzig's manager, Marco Rose. Explaining that decision to Marco Rose. Who then says "Fair enough, I was wrong."

It seems clear that every league in the world has to adopt this practice immediately. If it works, then we all move together into a brighter future of mutual understanding and shared happiness. And if it doesn't, we get to see Pep Guardiola trying to keep a straight face as a referee tells him he was being a big silly. Win-win.

It's Arsenal vs Aston Villa in the Conti Cup.