The smell of chlorine lingers in the corridors of AAMI Park. Melbourne Victory players are on site and professional swimmers emerge from the pool panting.
It is raining outside and David de Gea shuffles through, flanked by a press officer.
“Like Manchester, eh?” he laughs, referring to the winter weather. But we are not here to talk to De Gea.
In the media theatre, Erik ten Hag is holding court with the broadcast journalists. Outside, 10 of us members of the written media are patiently waiting to be summoned for our sit down with the new Manchester United manager.
After a 15-minute wait, we are ushered in by another press officer. A club security minder is sat on the plinth and hunched over. Ten Hag is stood and greets us individually with a handshake. The ‘offender’ who had the temerity to stay seated when he pressed the flesh in the Old Trafford press room is on his feet this time.
Eleven chairs are placed in a circle, resembling a group therapy session. Some United fans might have needed some counselling after last season, their worst in decades and so egregious their home and away followings belted “You’re not fit to wear the shirt”, a nadir in player-matchgoer relations.
Ten Hag is a suitably sobering choice to cure hangovers. Luke Shaw and Harry Maguire, drunk from a superb European Championship, have fresh competition, as does Bruno Fernandes in Christian Eriksen. Frenkie de Jong, a potentially transformative transfer, remains an active target and a forward is wanted.
More fascinating than United’s market movement has been Ten Hag’s approach on the training pitch. Comfortable with delegating to assistants Steve McClaren and Mitchell van der Gaag to oversee the sessions, he watches intently from a distance.
Ten Hag has dark eyes, like a shark, and eventually, slowly, he moves in for the kill. Donny van de Beek was rebuked during the defence versus attack drill in Bangkok for playing wasted passes.
For our sit-down, Ten Hag is dressed in a black club tracksuit, having just overseen a morning session. He doesn’t fidget and seldom gesticulates to emphasise his observations.
It is Monday afternoon and United are entering the final stretch of a so far fulfilling tour of Thailand and Australia, with two four-goal wins and two more matches to be played.
The players and staff had Sunday off. “As coaches, you don’t really have much time off,” Ten Hag shrugs. Some players had a round of golf and Ten Hag likes to unwind on the fairways. He settled in Mere – renowned for its revered course – when he first came over to Manchester.
Did he watch much of the final day of The Open? “I watched it but not that much.”
We were braced for this. Ten Hag has been laconic in the three rounds of briefings we have had with him. In his press conferences, the questions have run longer than some of the answers.
A friend of Ten Hag’s said in Holland they “only speak about football”, so in retrospect attempting to engage in golf was ill-advised. Once we swiftly revert to football, Ten Hag talks concisely and authoritatively.
In the first answer, he underlines his authority and the demands. So far, so cool. The last time we assembled around the United manager in Perth, a bead of sweat trickled down Ole Gunnar Solskjaer’s forehead. Ten Hag is not as flustered as some back home in England.
Three questions in and the ice has still not been broken. Then this correspondent commits a Freudian slip.
“Your Ajax team – the one that got to the Champions League final… Sorry, the semi-final. I should have said ‘should’ve got to the Champions League final’.”
Ten Hag points approvingly and smiles. There is laughter. Paul Hirst of The Times quips “good boy, well done”. The ice is thawing.
Like his permanent predecessor, Ten Hag is more comfortable without lenses homing in on him like he is in the cross-hairs or lights blinding him. That is an occupational hazard but he understands the value of face-time with the dedicated United correspondents. There is more than a combined 100 years of experience covering United among the 10 pack members in the room.
By appointing Ten Hag, United have restored authority to the manager’s role after a four-year absence. While researching Ten Hag prior to his appointment, it was apparent he is a disciplinarian and that streak has been visible on the training pitch. A dressing room source insists his brusque nature applies to the players and he is feeling them out.
It is churlish to scrutinise a Dutchman’s English and Ten Hag outlines his approach cogently. He does not mention the word “philosophy” but “process”, another favourite of Louis van Gaal’s, is uttered on four occasions.
He balances managing the expectations of the club and the supporters with challenging his new charges: “The players always dictate how you have to play because I cannot change the identification of a player.”
Ten Hag deals with the topic of Cristiano Ronaldo impressively, suggesting their working relationship could extend to a second season: “I am well informed he also has an option, eh?”
Remote though the chances of exercising that extension are, it is a positive slant on a player whose return date at Carrington is still unknown. Eight questions are Ronaldo-related.
He becomes coy when his correspondence with Sir Alex Ferguson is raised but there are more cackles when Ferguson’s hairdryer is mentioned. What’s Ten Hag’s equivalent?
“I don’t need a hairdryer!”
There are 42 questions across our 25 minutes and that was extended from the planned 20. It is not the short and sharp Ten Hag of press conferences or the mixed zone at Melbourne Cricket Ground.
He is warming up.
