‘50m down the drain, Tony Martial scores again’ often rang round the terraces at Old Trafford, whenever the Frenchman showed a glimpse of his obvious quality. But maybe now it would be more apt if the Stretford Enders sang, ‘7m for winning a Ballon D’or, you should have scored more.’
And the past tense in my chant tells a tale on its own; Anthony Martial is unlikely to add many more goals to his United collection, before being ushered out to seek pastures.
It would be an odd whimper if he were to fail to be moved on in January and leave as a free agent in the Summer. This was a player that could have followed a similar plane of progression to Thierry Henry, with both players being promoted out of the Monaco B team to set-up to make a splash for the first XI.
The talent and dimension both players offered in their early career stages was similar. It was actually against Arsenal where Martial launched himself onto the big stage, driving down Bellerin’s flank in the first half to give him nightmares, before having even greater success chiselling through the centre of Arsenal’s defense, in the second half.
And not many United or Liverpool fans will forget Martial’s tricks and turns, before putting a flourish on a 3-1 win, as a debut substitute.
But ultimately, his United career began to nosedive. Across many years on the Old Trafford stands, he’s been a symbol of frustration because of his lack of work-rate. A nonchalant arrogance perhaps derived from the billing on which he was signed quickly transmogrifying into brazen laziness.
He wouldn’t just fail to run enough in games, he’d also slow up the play by holding onto the ball for too long. Perhaps hoping to unlock his healthier carefree approach to football, during the ascent of his career. A time when he had the world at his feet. But for many moments since, he’s had the ball at his feet, and come unstuck. Literally tripping over himself because of his idle attitude.
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