Premier League 2018-19: Why David de Gea deserves more respect than he is getting

Cast yourself into the scene. You’re a war-torn Phil Jones. Your bandaged head has been twisted by nightmares of the greatest footballer there has ever been before you’ve even set foot on the hallowed Camp Nou turf.

Lionel Messi has already twisted your blood and your soul and we’re not that far into the game. He’s scored one bog-standard Messi goal, pressing to pinch a ball, making multiple elite footballers look like children, bending a laser-like finish into the corner at pace, which by human standards is a fabulous run and finish.

For him it’s the equivalent of turning up for work. He’s danced past you, around you, above you, and into your psyche and we’re not close to half time yet. At this point it’s the small victories that begin to count.

Success! You’ve pushed him into the only semi-safe space there is for that guy in the attacking third. Pulling his ever-so-slightly weaker right foot back from 20 yards with the ball on the move and a fairly awkward angle - that’s the best you can hope to restrict this miniature Superman to.

If there is one type of goal lacking from his nuclear armory it is the long-range right footer. Plus you’ve got the best keeper on the planet behind you.

The ball dribbles towards David de Gea and you assume he’s going to throw a cap on it, scoop it up, fall down again on the ball, and hold it for 10 seconds or more, allowing you some relief and a few moments to bloody breathe. You and Chris Smalling might actually get a break.

Wait? What? It’s gone underneath him. Ah well. Game over.

The frequency and profile of De Gea’s mistakes, both stupidly ludicrous as against Barcelona or slightly technically deficient (see Goodison Park and the Manchester Derby), have without question increased since he followed Spain’s general World Cup example by bombing like a 20-stone Brit into an Alicante swimming pool. He hasn’t had a good season, and that’s not just relative to the preceding five superhuman, player-of-the-year worthy campaigns.

De Gea has just been a pretty typical Premier League keeper since the World Cup - largely dependable, but sometimes a bit infuriating. Like when they made that Bourne movie and it didn’t have Matt Damon in it. I’d forgotten that one too, don’t worry.

To listen to radio phone-ins and UK football podcasts this week, including the BBC football daily, it was alarming to hear some United fans and indeed paid experts suggesting that selling De Gea is the way forward. "Bring in some funds, he’s past his best, get rid while we can cash in" was the mind-bending crux of many arguments I exposed my sad, miserable ears to.

Now there is much to be fixed at Manchester United. There's too much to list here, too much for a brain the size of mine to contemplate without a few stiff drinks. But replacing De Gea? Get real. That’s akin to sending a car for a new paint job and deciding sod it, get rid of that brilliant engine too.

When a pipe is leaking, you don’t smash a new, massive hole in it with a claw hammer. De Gea deserves more than one free pass of a season when he’s still shown us exhilaratingly high levels of shot-stopping and agility.

See Tottenham away and West Ham at Old Trafford. He’s still brilliant.

United need a clear-out and new injection of players, but to sell De Gea would be absolute footballing suicide. This is a bloke who has been the standout player at one of the world’s biggest sporting institutions for five consecutive seasons.

The great, traditionally attacking club that is Manchester United, held together with increasing desperation by a goalkeeper for half a decade.

Just imagine, for a second, where the club would be without him right now. There would be a gigantic Phil Jones-style bandage around the whole of Old Trafford, desperately trying to contain the seeping wounds on and off the field.

If any football player at any club on the planet, bar Lionel Messi, deserves a handful of hall passes, then it is the Spaniard between the sticks at the Theatre of Dreams.

Be thankful we have him, because he might not be there much longer. And if he does leave us, it must be on his terms. He’s earned that and much, much more.