To paraphrase Verbal Kint, the greatest trick that debt ever pulled was convincing the world it didn’t exist. Those who did believe in it were treated as cranks by the vast majority of those in the game and in the media, until the incontrovertible evidence of ticket prices rocketing in inverse proportion to transfer market spending left them looking decidedly Michael Fishy.

- On-pitch matters set up Tevez test

For those unfamiliar with great British weather forecasters, Michael Fish was the man who on October 15th 1987 told us the following: “Earlier on today, apparently, a woman rang the BBC and said she heard there was a hurricane on the way; well, if you’re watching, don’t worry, there isn’t”.

As it turned out, there was – the worst in almost 300 years – and following the sudden cancellation of the transfer to United of Serbian youngster Adem Ljajic, residents of M16 would do well to brace themselves for a storm.

Quite simply, aborting the deal makes sense only against a backdrop of severe financial difficulty. The official line is that there’s a coterie of “top young talent” already at the club, in the “attacking midfielder” position, but in fact nothing could be further from the case; along with pace up front, this is the single most glaring aspect in which the current squad is lacking.

If Ljajic is anywhere near as good as he’s meant to be – as good, say, as United thought he was a year ago, when they also thought there was a need for a player of his type – then this excuse is even more of a nonsense. He may not have progressed as expected, but United were undeterred from buying Gabriel Obertan last summer, despite a season far less auspicious than Ljajic’s.

There are, of course, two differences; price and economy. Starting with the former. Obertan cost £3 million, Ljajic between three and four times that. The apologists will say that he isn’t worth it, and maybe he isn’t, but that misses the point. This is Manchester United we’re talking about: the most popular club in the world, during one of the most successful periods in its history, in the aftermath of the most profitable summer any team has ever enjoyed, at a time when unimaginable riches are sloshing around the top end of the game; if they have to pay a premium, so what? If the player flops, so what?

In defence of this parsimony, the club preached that in the current market, it was impossible to obtain value for money, hilariously expecting people not to fathom the identity of the most significant beneficiaries of this cursed inflation. For years, Fergie has moaned about the United tax added to the value of any player, before quite rightly paying the necessary - and in the days of Kenyonomics, often necessary plus a bit more. Now, suddenly, he expects us to believe in him as ideologue crusader, acting for the benefit of the footballing community.

It’s not that I want United to chuck money around for its own sake – there’s something very vulgar about using financial might, even when legitimately earned, to liberate talent nurtured by others as soon as convenient. But if absolutely required, the money through the turnstiles demands the need be met, even if it costs more than it should. Instead, though, we’re told about United’s proud reputation for developing young players, something the club used to do because it’s important, but now does because there’s no other choice.

The arrival of this time – always likely given the aggressive tenets of the takeover – has been hastened by the economy. Ljajic had been budgeted for a year ago, and the club applied for a work permit as recently as October; it seems very much as though United expected to make the payment.

Their sudden inability to do so illustrates the effrontery of the “top young talent” excuse, as it’s impossible anyone has rendered years of scouting worthless by having a good couple of months - however well Cleverley’s doing at Watford. I’d suggest the real reason the deal has been pulled is that the recession has hit the Glazers harder than they’re letting on; either a planned refinancing is no longer possible, or they require the Ljajic money for something else; perhaps both.

Frighteningly, that something else needn’t have anything to do with United – the Glazers are free to siphon cash out of the club and into any interest of theirs that needed it; verily money ain’t got no owners, only spenders. And who knows what they might do next time they need some capital?

Meanwhile, Fergie – who unforgivably welcomed the Glazers in the first place, even though his opposition could probably have kyboshed the plan – skives his weekly press conference, safe in the knowledge that he can be boozing and spieling a merry retirement by the time we’re in real trouble, probably around the period Ljajic fulfils his potential.

It’s possible that Ljajic will turn out to be another Celio Silva, and United go on to spend the money on a better, similar player. But until they do, the evidence does not look good. Promoting himself – sorry, I mean England’s World Cup bid – the other day, David Beckham referred to the Premier League as “the most exposed in the world”. However you interpret it, he’s not wrong.