Alex Ferguson's Manchester United took some fearful hidings over the years. "Even in the most successful campaigns, there always seemed to be one match when it went horribly wrong," wrote Gary Neville in his autobiography. "A nightmare match that reminded you that success never comes easily."

Such games would prompt an orgy of schadenfreude around the country. At Ferguson's United, the only laugh that mattered was the last one: his team won the title in different seasons despite losing 5-0 to Chelsea, 4-1 to Liverpool and Tottenham – not to mention 5-0 to Newcastle and 6-3 to Southampton in the same week. They made a virtue out of a crisis.

The extent of José Mourinho’s and United’s embarrassment at Stamford Bridge on Sunday might be similarly used – a line in the sand, after which he decides to succeed or fail on his terms. Since taking over at United he has looked subdued, weary and almost bored. Even the signs of the old Mourinho, the occasional crankiness and the delightfully contemptuous observation about football Einsteins, have felt like a bit like a tribute act to himself.

Self-conscious

It is possible, after all the talk of his unsuitability for the job, Mourinho is too conscious of how a United manager should be seen to behave, as if

Bobby Charlton

is on his shoulder. The cliche about what happens to a player if you take the fire out of their game applies to Mourinho. It is very hard for him to excel without confrontation and a siege mentality – weapons which, despite the anti-Mourinho rhetoric, Ferguson used to spectacular effect. Mourinho’s petulant criticism of

Antonio Conte

may bode well for United. It was the first sign the monster may be stirring.

Mourinho has not looked like Mourinho, and United – with their ponderous attacking and scruffy defending – certainly have not looked like a Mourinho team. That's because they aren't. Unlike at Chelsea, Internazionale and Real Madrid, Mourinho did not inherit a solid base – he had to buy almost an entire spine in Eric Bailly, Paul Pogba and Zlatan Ibrahimovic. The frequent selection of Juan Mata, whom Mourinho sold when he was at Chelsea, is another reflection of how he feels about his squad.

All managers should have 12 months' grace before judgment is passed. In the Premier League, in 2016, nobody wants to play the long game. This is the age of entitlement, instant gratification is all that matters.

It took Ferguson five years to build a side capable of even challenging for the title; his astonishing success after that should give his case study the power of a judicial precedent. Instead the opposite is true; despite being almost inherently counterproductive, the reset button is usually pressed at the first sign of trouble.

It could be Mourinho is past his best, that the dressing-room politics of Madrid and Chelsea have wearied him, and that age has diminished his chutzpah. But to extrapolate all that from the evidence of nine Premier League games at United and an irrelevant half-season at Chelsea is not just irrational; it is idiotic. The non-specific hysteria is drowning out relevant discussion about the many issues at United, from the lack of pace in attack to the exclusion of Michael Carrick to what's eating Henrikh Mkhitaryan.

Backlash

In many ways, Mourinho is reaping what he has sown. His precious success, and his lack of shyness about highlighting that success, means any failure will be magnified. He antagonised so many people on the way up that coming down was never going to be an enjoyable journey. Yet if you view United as a long-term project – which it is – Mourinho has already made some progress. He made four strong signings who, despite some false starts, should become excellent United players, and his handling of the enormous

Wayne Rooney

problem was unusually subtle.

Mourinho needs at least two more transfer windows to build his team. In the meantime he may have to use the cups – even the dreaded Europa League – as a form of damage limitation. The problem with the United squad is not just one of ability. The reaction to the defeat at Chelsea, with many smiling and swapping shirts as if they had just had a post-work game of five-a-side, was anathema to the winning mentality that has been the basis of all Mourinho’s success.

In 2002, after a wretched defeat in the final Manchester derby at Maine Road, Ruud van Nistelrooy walked into the dressing-room with a City shirt over his shoulder. Ferguson announced anyone who swapped shirts in the future would never play for him again, before setting the hairdryer to the maximum setting. He knew he would get the appropriate response because he had shaped the team in his image. The Chelsea defeat should be Mourinho's trigger to do the same as quickly as possible. If he doesn't, the last laugh is likely to be at his expense. Guardian service