The rain that swept across Turf Moor that night felt relentless, but it was nothing compared to the icy tension brewing inside the Manchester United dressing room.
The final whistle had confirmed a disappointing 2–2 draw against Burnley, a side sitting just above the relegation zone.
What was meant to be a fresh start following Rúben Amorim’s dismissal instead resembled a painfully familiar collapse.
United had twice taken the lead thanks to Benjamin Šeško, whose goals seemed poised to spark optimism. Yet defensive fragility once again proved costly.
A moment of hesitation at the back allowed Jaidon Anthony the space he needed to bend home a late equaliser, wiping out any sense of progress and leaving players and staff deflated.
Darren Fletcher, United through and through, did not bother with pleasantries.
As interim manager, he stormed into the away dressing room and slammed the heavy metal door with such force that the tactical board shook on the wall. Players barely had time to catch their breath before they realised something serious was coming.
Fletcher stood in the middle of the room, his face flushed with anger, chest rising sharply as he surveyed a squad assembled at enormous cost.
His eyes eventually fixed on Lisandro Martínez. The Argentine defender, normally admired for his aggression and commitment, had been caught out of position for Burnley’s second goal, failing to close down Anthony before the decisive strike.
The room fell into an uneasy silence as Fletcher spoke. His voice was low at first, but razor sharp.
He reminded the players of his two decades at the club, of the standards he had seen from past United sides, and of the sacrifices made by legends who wore the shirt with pride.
He contrasted that legacy with what he had just witnessed on the pitch — a lack of urgency, hunger, and accountability.
Martínez attempted to respond, but Fletcher stepped forward, his restraint evaporating.
His voice echoed around the concrete walls as he accused the defender of switching off, of standing still while the game slipped away.
It wasn’t about reputation, price tag, or medals won elsewhere — it was about effort and responsibility in a United shirt.
The message was brutal and unmistakable. Fletcher told Martínez to leave, making it clear that under his watch there would be no place for players who failed to meet the standard.
He grabbed a damp United jersey from the floor and tossed it toward the defender, symbolically stripping away any sense of security.
Around the room, the rest of the squad sat motionless. Captain Bruno Fernandes stared ahead, stunned by the ferocity of the moment. Fletcher wasn’t finished.
He warned the remaining players that excuses were over, that commitment was non-negotiable, and that anyone unwilling to give everything might as well stay behind.
With that, the interim boss turned and walked out, leaving behind a suffocating silence. Martínez stood frozen, staring down at the floor as the weight of what had just happened settled in.
For everyone in that room, one thing was suddenly clear: at Manchester United, a harsher era had begun — and second chances were no longer guaranteed.
