Cunha Is Not a No.9: Nicky Butt, Carrick and the Striker Problem Squeezing Man United

Two in the morning, the phone buzzes. Not a transfer rumour, not a player calling to talk like those pandemic nights. A friend who works as an editor in Manchester sends me a twelve-minute podcast clip with a single line: "Butt just said it straight, listen." I turn on the speaker and hear Nicky Butt — a man with six Premier League titles in a red shirt — say something anyone in this trade knows will start a storm: Matheus Cunha is not a No.9, and pushing him into the middle is slowly killing his potential.

I sat still for a long time. Not because the sentence was new. But because I had heard exactly that argument ten years earlier, only with a different name and a different shirt.

People call me a heretic, but I only see what they refuse to look at.

Context: a decision made with tied hands

The story is not complicated, but few bother to look at the root. Benjamin Sesko has not fully recovered from injury. Joshua Zirkzee is judged by Butt himself as not good enough to be Manchester United's No.9. Marcus Rashford returns from a loan spell at Barcelona. And Michael Carrick, sitting in the coaching seat, is forced to choose: either Cunha plays highest, or nobody does.

This is the kind of decision I call a tied hand. Carrick did not pick Cunha because he believes Cunha is a No.9. Carrick picked Cunha because his striker list contains exactly one name he trusts, and that name is on a medical bed. In elite football, many decisions the media calls "tactical philosophy" are simply the consequence of an injury and an unfinished transfer.

Based on my experience watching these matches, I always tell the young writers in my newsroom one thing: when a big club plays an attacking midfielder as its highest forward, do not look for philosophy there. Look at the injury list.

Analysis: why left wing and No.9 are two different worlds

I need to state clearly what heat maps never say. Left wing and No.9 are not two nearby positions on the same axis. They are two entirely different spatial problems.

On the left wing, Cunha receives the ball facing goal, has time for one cushion touch, and has space ahead to accelerate off his right foot. He attacks a full-back already dragged out of position, and there is always a central striker pinning the centre-back.

Pushed into the No.9 role, Cunha receives with his back to goal, a centre-back pressing from the front, a holding midfielder screening from behind. He is forced to do things he has not done in eighteen months at this intensity: hold the ball for three seconds, act as a wall, contest aerial duels. The difference is not finishing skill. It is the number of decisions he must make while being pressed from behind.

And here is the key point few people mention: Cunha does not lose his scoring ability as a No.9, he loses his ability to create space for others.

That is why basic metrics can still look fine while the eye sees something wrong. If you only look at goals, nothing seems unusual. But if you rewatch the tape, you see United's attack lose its rotation rhythm on the left channel, which should be its main source of chances.

I spent many evenings rewinding these passages. And what I saw was not a bad player. It was a player being asked questions he was never coached to answer.

The striker problem: the trap of going public

What makes this situation more dangerous than usual is that it has gone public. Once Nicky Butt says on a podcast that United need a new No.9, every club in the market knows United are in a weak position.

I have seen this many times. When a transfer need stems from injury and is repeated by the media often enough, a player's price stops reflecting his football value. It reflects the buyer's desperation. People in the trade call it the panic premium. And the panic premium is something every sporting director loves to receive and nobody likes to pay.

One more layer of complexity: the Premier League's Profit and Sustainability Rules. None of us has enough data to say how much room United have to spend. But recent Premier League history shows one thing very clearly: clubs get points deducted not because they spend a lot, but because they spend without selling. If United want an expensive No.9, they will most likely need to sell first.

And the name most mentioned in that sell-first conversation is Zirkzee — the very man Butt just said is not good enough. Once a player's market valuation is publicly downgraded, his owning club loses its negotiating leverage.

Rashford's return: the problem nobody wants to name

Marcus Rashford returns from his Barcelona loan. The media calls it the reintegration of a major asset. I call it a knot on the left channel.

If Rashford plays well on the left — and in my experience he always plays best there — then Cunha's path back to his natural position narrows. Carrick then faces a choice with no elegant answer: either Cunha keeps playing No.9, or Cunha sits on the bench.

Nobody at a press conference wants to say this out loud. But this is exactly the kind of quiet conflict that can break a dressing room faster than any defeat on the pitch.

The contrarian angle: what if Butt is wrong?

Now comes the part I like most — the part readers usually skip. Where could I be wrong?

There is a very real possibility: Butt is right about Cunha but wrong about the cause. The problem may not be Cunha's position, but the supply behind him. A No.9 only functions when the midfield moves the ball fast enough and early enough into space. If United are passing slowly, putting anyone in the middle is meaningless.

There is a second possibility: public pressure itself is what stops Carrick from changing. A coach publicly criticised by a club legend tends to dig in and prove himself right, rather than bow and correct course immediately. If that happens, Cunha keeps playing No.9 for a few more matches, not because of tactics, but because of ego.

And a third possibility I must admit: maybe Butt is simply protecting a player he likes. Men who lived in a dressing room always carry a bias toward players who resemble them. I know that, because I carry my own biases too.

That night I stammered, but history did not. I once bet on a young player and was mocked for two years. The lesson I drew was not to stop betting. It was to never confuse the ego of the decision-maker with the logic of the match.

Takeaway: what I am willing to bet

I will not claim to know who United will sign in the next window. But I will say one verifiable thing: watch the starting lineups in the next three matches.

If Cunha still plays highest, Carrick is choosing stability and waiting for Sesko. If Cunha is moved back to the left, Carrick has listened to Butt — and that means Zirkzee or a young player must carry the middle.

And if United sign a No.9 in the coming window, remember this article. It will not be a tactical signing. It will be a confession that they got it wrong from the start of the season.