Crisis at Carrington.

Just when Manchester United fans dared to believe the chaos had settled, it’s back — and it’s loud.

Four senior stars have missed training just days before the most emotionally charged fixture of the season: Liverpool away.

Anfield.

The graveyard of dreams.

The cauldron of noise.

And United?
Already limping into the storm.

A Training Ground Mystery

It started quietly — a few absences on the training pitch, whispers among journalists, murmurs from staff.

Then the truth hit social media like a thunderclap.

Four key players absent.

Four question marks hanging over Erik ten Hag’s head.

And one club spiraling toward another nightmare headline.

The missing names spread like wildfire.

Sources confirmed them within hours: Bruno Fernandes.

Marcus Rashford.

Casemiro.

Lisandro Martínez.

Four pillars.

Four leaders.

Four absentees at the worst possible moment.

Ten Hag’s poker face couldn’t hide the tension.

Reporters pressed for explanations, but the Dutchman stayed cryptic.

“Some players are managing issues,” he said, his voice clipped, his jaw tight.

Issues?
That’s one word for it.

United fans have another: disaster.

Bruno Fernandes: Captain in Crisis

Let’s start with Bruno.

The captain.

The heartbeat.

The one who never stops running, shouting, demanding.

But lately, even he looks human.

Exhaustion has replaced energy.

Frustration has replaced flair.

And now — he’s missing from training.

Club insiders suggest it’s a “minor knock,” but we’ve heard that before.

Every “minor knock” in Manchester seems to turn into a six-week saga.

Bruno’s absence leaves a creative void so deep it’s frightening.

Without him, United’s midfield becomes a dark tunnel with no exit.

And going to Anfield without their leader?
It’s like walking into a war zone without armor.

Marcus Rashford: The Vanishing Star

Next, Marcus Rashford — the enigma of the season.

A year ago, he was unstoppable.

Now, he’s unpredictable.

Brilliant one week, invisible the next.

And just when fans needed him most, he disappears from training too.

Officially, it’s “illness.

”
Unofficially, the whispers say otherwise.

Rashford has been struggling mentally — the pressure, the scrutiny, the endless criticism on social media.

Even teammates have noticed he’s quieter lately.

Less laughter, more distance.

Football is cruel, and Rashford’s fall from grace has been merciless.

Now, facing Liverpool without him?
It’s unthinkable.

He’s United’s only natural weapon on the break — the one man who can terrify defenders with a single sprint.

Take him out, and Ten Hag’s counter-attack becomes a memory.

Casemiro: The Warrior Gone Missing

And then there’s Casemiro — the midfield general turned ghost.

Since joining from Real Madrid, he’s been United’s spine, their enforcer, their emotional engine.

But this season?
His body’s been screaming “enough.

”
Hamstring problems, fatigue, the wear and tear of too many wars.

Now, once again, he’s missing.

United call it “precautionary.

”
Fans call it what it is — panic.

Because when Casemiro doesn’t play, the midfield collapses like wet paper.

Without him, the defense drowns.

Without him, Liverpool’s pressing machine will feast.

And yet, deep down, everyone knows the truth.

Casemiro’s legs aren’t what they used to be.

He’s still brilliant, still proud — but time is undefeated.

And Liverpool at Anfield?
That’s a fight for young lungs and fearless hearts.

Lisandro Martínez: The Butcher’s Battle

Finally, Lisandro Martínez — the butcher of Manchester.

The warrior who plays like every tackle is a declaration of love for the badge.

But his body has betrayed him too.

Recurring foot issues.

Setbacks.

Rehab, recovery, relapse.

Now, with Liverpool looming, he’s nowhere to be seen.

Martínez’s absence doesn’t just hurt tactically.

It hurts emotionally.

He’s the voice in the chaos, the fire in the cold.

When he plays, United believe.

Without him, they crumble.

Erik Ten Hag Under Siege

For Ten Hag, this is the nightmare scenario.

He’s already fighting critics, boardroom whispers, and fan frustration.

Now he’s facing Liverpool with half his backbone missing.

And everyone’s watching — waiting to pounce.

The Dutchman insists “we’ll be ready.

”
But readiness doesn’t win games at Anfield.

Belief does.

And right now, belief is in short supply.

Sources close to the dressing room say tension is rising.

Some players feel overworked, others feel unheard.

There’s fatigue, yes — but also friction.

The relationship between Ten Hag and his stars has cooled.

He demands discipline.

They crave freedom.

It’s a slow-burn conflict — and this week might be the spark that ignites it.

Anfield Awaits

Liverpool smell blood.

Jürgen Klopp may have gone, but his legacy still pulses through that stadium like electricity.

The crowd doesn’t just watch — it consumes.

It roars, it mocks, it breaks you.

And when United walk out without Bruno, Rashford, Casemiro, or Martínez, Anfield will sense weakness.

The rivalry needs no buildup.

It’s not a game — it’s a statement.

Liverpool vs.

Manchester United isn’t about points.

It’s about pride, pain, and memory.

And every scar from the 7-0 humiliation still burns bright in United’s collective soul.

The Tactical Nightmare

So what does Ten Hag do now?
Who fills the void?
Scott McTominay — the accidental hero — may step in for Casemiro.

He’ll fight, but he’s not a shield.

Christian Eriksen could return, though his fitness remains a question mark.

And in attack?
Maybe young Garnacho, fearless and raw, takes Rashford’s place.

It’s brave.

It’s desperate.

It’s Manchester United in 2025.

But what about leadership?
Who screams, who commands, who calms the storm when Anfield turns red and wild?
Without Bruno, the silence could be deafening.

A Club Haunted by Its Own Past

Every time United visit Anfield, they carry ghosts.

The ghosts of Ferguson’s dominance.

The ghosts of humiliation.

The ghosts of what they once were — and what they’re struggling to become again.

Under Ten Hag, there was hope.

A plan.

Structure.

Now, it feels like that plan is slipping through his fingers.

The injuries, the drama, the inconsistency — it’s a carousel of chaos.

And Liverpool?
They thrive on chaos.

The Fans’ Fury

Social media is in meltdown.

#TenHagOut is trending again.

Some fans blame the manager.

Others blame the players.

But everyone agrees on one thing — this isn’t normal.

This isn’t Manchester United.

“The club’s cursed,” one fan posted.

“Every time we find momentum, something breaks.

”
And it’s hard to argue.

Because this pattern has repeated for years — hope, promise, collapse.

Every rebuild starts with fire and ends with smoke.

Inside Carrington

At Carrington, the mood is tense.

Coaches whisper.

Medical staff move like ghosts.

Players stare at the ground during warmups, silence replacing laughter.

Even the cafeteria feels different — fewer smiles, more sighs.

Something’s off.

Something deeper than injuries.

Ten Hag walks through it all, stoic, unreadable.

He’s always believed in control, but right now, control feels like a luxury.

He knows what’s coming — a test not of tactics, but of survival.

The Liverpool Threat

Meanwhile, Liverpool are licking their lips.

Salah is rested.

Szoboszlai is flying.

Núñez is unpredictable in the best possible way.

And behind them, a fanbase starving for revenge after last season’s frustrations.

United’s vulnerability is public knowledge now.

Every headline screams it.

Every rival can sense it.

And Anfield will show no mercy.

What Happens If They Lose

A heavy defeat could break everything.

The dressing room trust.

The manager’s authority.

Even the board’s patience.

Another humiliation — especially against Liverpool — would be more than a loss.

It would be an indictment.

The kind of wound that doesn’t heal in one season.

Already, names are being whispered — possible replacements, new sporting directors, “fresh direction.

”
United lives in a state of permanent reinvention.

And that’s exactly why it keeps falling apart.

The Flicker of Hope

And yet, football loves irony.

When United are at their weakest, sometimes they strike hardest.

Remember Paris.

Remember City in the Cup.

Remember all the nights when everyone wrote them off — and they roared back.

Ten Hag knows this.

He’s betting everything on that instinct, that fight.

“If we go down,” he told his players, “we go down together.

”
For now, that’s all United fans can cling to.

Not strategy.

Not health.

Just hope.

The Final Word

Four players missing.

A wounded team.

A furious fanbase.

And a trip to Anfield looming like a thundercloud.

This is Manchester United — beautiful chaos, broken brilliance, eternal drama.

They could crumble.

They could shock the world.

Both outcomes feel equally likely.

But one thing’s certain.

When the whistle blows at Anfield, the world will be watching.

Every camera.

Every critic.

Every fan still daring to believe that somehow, in the madness, United will rise again.

Because that’s what this club does.

It suffers.

It falls.

It bleeds.

And sometimes — just sometimes — it fights its way back from the edge.