Ryan Giggs as United's saviour? Be careful what you wish for...

For the romantics, that identity could be found by one of their own. Every defeat, every 0-0 draw, every setback: they all serve to increase the suggestions that Ryan Giggs is the man to restore their fortunes.

Those notions are remarkable. They are arguments constructed from a vast amount of evidence in one sphere – 963 games played, 13 league titles and two Champions League crowns secured as a player – and precious little in another. Giggs’ managerial career amounts to four games which were as close to irrelevant as United’s matches ever get. For the record, they produced two wins, one draw and a home defeat to Sunderland.

And now many alight on Giggs as the antidote to United’s underachievement. Perhaps the palpable discord, to borrow an in-vogue phrase, between club and supporters would be removed by installing one of their own. Giggs would provide an immediate connection with a more glorious past and a disillusioned fanbase.

None of which amounts to proof that he is management material. The benefits of being a superclub include allowing others to experiment with embryonic coaching talents and see them make elementary errors elsewhere before luring those who are becoming the finished article. Jose Mourinho may have forged an improbable number of conspiracy theories, provoked too many FA charges and poked Tito Vilanova in the eye, but he still represents the low-risk option if and when Van Gaal is sacked.

Giggs is unproven, untried and, in many ways, unknown. When David Moyes was sacked, the view from the Old Trafford hierarchy was that Giggs had every quality required to manage United except one: experience. A season-and-a-half later, he still does not have it. Nor will he as long as he sits to Van Gaal’s left. The Dutchman has praised his second in command for his prowess making the pre-match presentations for the players, courtesy of clips provided by opposition analysis scouts Paul Brand and Marcel Bout. Perhaps that makes Giggs part of Van Gaal’s meetings culture, which in turn seems to lead to a draining dullness.

The perception is that he is as frustrated as the man on the terraces. Yet even if Van Gaal really is so dictatorial that his subordinates can't be blamed for the Dutchman’s results and style of play, Giggs is not necessarily the attacking antidote. Quite simply, we do not know.

His opinions have rarely been heard. The presumption has been that his friends are voicing his words, that highly-paid pundits are simply channelling the views of an insider. Whenever Paul Scholes, who has got under Van Gaal’s skin, brands his side “boring”, or Gary Neville, before he swapped studio for dugout, enthused about fast and furious football, voiced his enthusiasm for Mauricio Pochettino’s pressing game and his enduring fondness for the 4-4-1-1 system Sir Alex Ferguson used to deploy, are they merely parroting Giggs?

Or is a wider audience guilty of wishful thinking? Because, in English football, when so few high-class players go on to enjoy remotely successful managerial careers, too many are guilty of deluding themselves, of assuming a team managed by a genuine great will echo the sides he graced. Those led by Bobby Moore, Bobby Charlton, Bryan Robson, Tony Adams, Paul Ince, Roy Keane, Alan Shearer and John Barnes rarely did but the fantasy continues. We project managerial talent on to gifted players. Giggs represents something of a blank canvas. Imaginations run wild, painting pictures; from boring, boring Man United to glory, glory Man United.

The mystique around Giggs contributes. Apart from his commitments with the Class of ’92, he has kept a low profile over the last 18 months. Too much is known about some managers, too little about him. In his interim period in charge in 2014 and in the days before philosophy became a dirty word, he outlined his beliefs.

“It’s going to be Manchester United’s philosophy because I have been here all my career,” he said. "I want the players to play with passion, tempo, be brave, [show] imagination, all the things I expect of a Manchester United player. Work hard, but most of all enjoy it.”

All of which sounded impressive. It seemed in keeping with United’s traditions when Giggs thrust youngsters Tom Lawrence and James Wilson in for their debuts and the latter scored twice.

Yet the reality was that the pressure was off. Little was at stake. Giggs’ decision-making has never been tested in major matches. He has no track record in the transfer market. It is a moot point if he has the tactical prowess to outwit the top managers or the motivational skills to rally a team who have grown accustomed, if not weary, to his message and methods.

He is an icon, a symbol whose mere presence evokes those better days when things were different, when he was running down the wing, feared by the bad and loved by the good. But none of that makes him the ideal candidate to manage United. His mistakes should be made at, say, Swansea, just as Valencia can investigate Neville’s potential. Because whereas choosing Giggs might seem to answer United’s identity crisis, it could actually be a sign of it.