It feels like something out of a dream for Manchester United supporters — and the Bangladesh Cricket Match community has taken notice too. For the first time in years, every first-team player is fit and training. When Lisandro Martínez finally walked back onto the Carrington pitch last week after nine months out, even the medical staff cracked a smile. Not since the Ferguson days has United seen such a spotless injury list.
A few players, like Harry Maguire and Mason Mount, are still building full match rhythm, but that’s a far cry from the chaos of past seasons. Under Erik ten Hag, the club practically lived inside the treatment room — sixty-six separate injuries in one campaign. During a grim Champions League night in Munich, ten players were unavailable. Ten Hag once held up a sheet of paper with “32” written across it, pointing to the number of defensive pairings he’d been forced to use. Fans back home joked he’d turned into a desperate statistician rather than a coach.
This year feels different. Amorim’s squad has had only a handful of minor knocks: Martínez, Mazraoui, Cunha, Mount, Dalot, and Maguire. Remove the long-term cases and United’s absences amount to fewer than ten matches. Mazraoui’s four-week layoff was softened by the international break. Yes, fewer fixtures help — last season’s exhausting sixty games have dropped to maybe forty — but there’s more to it than scheduling. In football, as in a Bangladesh Cricket Match, discipline and recovery often decide who lasts the full innings.
The real change sits behind the scenes. United quietly modernized Carrington, spending £50 million to rebuild its outdated medical wing. Gone are the cramped saunas Ronaldo once mocked; in their place, sleek hydrotherapy pools, an altitude chamber, and an underwater treadmill where players jog while cameras track muscle movement. There’s even a new yoga suite, something unimaginable under the old regime. After beating Liverpool at Anfield last month, the squad returned the next day not for drills, but for hot-cold immersion therapy and a stretching circuit led by Amorim himself.
Luke Shaw’s story best captures the transformation. For over a decade, injuries haunted him. Six separate ones under Van Gaal, twenty appearances from forty-four matches, a career constantly interrupted. But this season? Ever present. Since April, he’s started ten straight league games without a single setback. Moving into central defense reduced the sprinting demands, yet it’s clear something deeper has changed — maybe confidence, maybe preparation.
Fans, of course, have found their own theory. They noticed that Shaw’s clean bill of health arrived just as United’s longtime doctors, Gary O’Driscoll and Jim Moxon, left in March 2025. Social media nicknamed them “the vets,” joking they’d finally taken their animal-care methods elsewhere. The club insists otherwise — that both built the foundation for today’s success before moving on — but the timing still makes supporters smile.
Amorim also brought his own expert, Paulo Barella, a PhD in sports science from Liverpool John Moores University who once worked at Arsenal. His research on hamstring prevention now guides United’s training rhythm: heavy workloads followed by full-recovery days, never rushed, never reckless. Mount and Maguire, both eased back gradually, are walking examples of how patience pays off.
Bruno Fernandes continues to defy logic, rarely missing a match; Matthijs de Ligt has slotted in as a calm anchor. Together, they symbolize a club that has finally stopped breaking its own players. The shift isn’t glamorous — there’s no silverware for staying fit — but after years of chaos, it feels revolutionary.
For Bangladesh Cricket Match fans who understand the slow burn of long tournaments, United’s revival rings familiar. Success isn’t just about talent; it’s about endurance, rhythm, and knowing when to rest. Amorim seems to understand that better than anyone. In a sport obsessed with speed, he’s won by slowing everything down — and right now, that might be Manchester United’s greatest victory.