Manchester United’s trip to Kuala Lumpur is not just pointless—it’s a disgrace.
When the FA scrapped replays in the FA Cup to “protect players,” many fans suspected it had little to do with wellbeing and everything to do with money. Now, as Manchester United fly 6,500 miles to play meaningless friendlies in Malaysia just days after finishing their worst top flight campaign in half a century, that suspicion has become confirmation.
The Premier League’s big clubs are sacrificing the traditions and integrity of English football at the altar of commercial expansion, and in doing so, they’re dragging the rest of the game down with them.
Money Over Meaning: The Hypocrisy of Fixture Congestion
The justification for scrapping replays was clear, if disingenuous: fixture congestion. Clubs, we were told, could no longer handle the volume of competitive matches. But if that’s the case, why are Manchester United playing two exhibition games in 48 hours on the other side of the world? Where is the concern for player welfare when commercial revenue is at stake?
It exposes a glaring hypocrisy. The top clubs don’t want fewer games—they want fewer inconvenient games. Replays against League Two or National League sides offer little glamour or financial incentive. Instead, flying halfway around the world for meaningless friendlies presents a branding opportunity, a chance to flog shirts and strengthen global markets. That’s where the priority lies—not in upholding the pyramid, not in supporting smaller clubs, and certainly not in protecting tradition.

The Death of the FA Cup Replay: A Blow to the Pyramid
FA Cup replays used to be the lifeblood of lower-league and non-league clubs. A replay against a Premier League giant could be worth hundreds of thousands—sometimes millions—of pounds. In 2024, football finance expert Kieran Maguire estimated that a potential replay for Tamworth at Tottenham would have generated up to £800,000 in revenue. That’s half their annual income. Instead, they were dumped out in extra-time, the fairy tale dead on the spot.
Lincoln City fans will remember their own fairy tale vividly. In 2017, Lincoln—then a National League side—beat Ipswich Town at Sincil Bank in an FA Cup third round replay. That win (and subsequent run) funded a squad rebuild, supported the club’s rise back into the EFL, and helped them become a stable League One side. It was a turning point for a proud old club that had been all but forgotten. That path is now closed to clubs like Tamworth. The money is gone, the opportunity stolen, and all for what? So Manchester United can flog training kits in Asia?
From Non-League to European Glory: The Path Is Being Bulldozed
The removal of replays also chips away at a different kind of tradition—the chance for players from lower levels to break through and climb the ladder. The EFL and FA Cup replays have historically offered a platform for talent to be spotted. Jamie Vardy, Charlie Austin, Stuart Pearce—icons who began in non-league football and used these moments to grab attention.
Even more recently, Brennan Johnson embodies this pathway. Before scoring the winning goal in a European final for Tottenham, Johnson spent the 2020–21 season on loan at Lincoln City. That Lincoln side was built on momentum generated by their FA Cup heroics just four years earlier. Johnson’s career trajectory, like so many before him, was fuelled by the ecosystem the FA Cup helped support. The system worked—until the greed of the elite dismantled it.
The Premier League’s Duty to the Football League
Let’s not pretend this is just about Manchester United. All the top Premier League clubs are guilty of the same dereliction of duty. They are the wealthiest members of a system built on solidarity. Without the EFL, there is no Premier League. The players, the managers, the fans—all are products of a deeper pyramid that is being exploited, not nurtured.
The FA’s decision to scrap replays was signed off as part of a deal with the Premier League, without the full backing of the EFL. It’s no surprise. Every time power consolidates at the top, the bottom suffers. Premier League clubs are no longer partners in the English game—they are overlords. Their responsibility to the rest of the pyramid has been replaced by cold, commercial calculation.
And when you strip away the fairytales, the stories, the sense of possibility—what’s left? A hollow competition. A “magic” cup robbed of its magic.
Conclusion: This Is What Greed Looks Like
Manchester United’s friendlies in Kuala Lumpur aren’t just tone-deaf. They’re symbolic. They represent the Premier League’s transformation from steward of English football to corporate juggernaut. Every decision now is made not with tradition in mind, or fairness, or community—but profit.
The FA Cup replay was once a symbol of everything beautiful about English football: opportunity, romance, drama. It gave small clubs a platform, fans a story, and players a chance. Now, it’s gone—sacrificed by those who could have preserved it but chose greed instead.
English football isn’t dying. It’s being strangled, slowly, by the very institutions that claim to be its champions. And unless fans and governing bodies push back, the game we love may soon become unrecognisable.


