Finally, with a minute to go in regulation time, we got the game we came for. Rangers equalised late on and Manchester United put the ball back on the centre spot, and the Rangers fans roared and the United fans roared back, and the cold wind whipped in off the Pennines, and for a few blissful minutes Old Trafford was a whirlpool of pure blood cells.

Finally the noise began to build and the tackles flew in and every duel felt epic. Alejandro Garnacho tried to burn James Tavernier for pace, and Tavernier – eyeballs popping, 33-year-old lungs bursting – somehow held him off. A few seconds later Nicolas Raskin flew through the air and cut down Kobbie Mainoo like a second-row at a lineout. Free-kick.

Related: Fernandes grabs late Manchester United winner to ruin Rangers’ magic moment

Finally the free-kick was worked round to Lisandro Martínez, clipped to Bruno Fernandes at the back post. Finally, after 14 frustrated shots and any number of thwarted openings, the deadly finish. Finally, the relief and the release. Martínez grabbed Fernandes and for a few seconds they held each other like they would never let go.

And it is at moments like these that you realise there is still a beating human heart to this club, still a club in there worth saving, and at moments like these it matters not that this was Europe’s second-tier competition and an opponent of high Championship level, that United had enough chances to win the game many times over and should have sealed it much earlier.

What matters is the moment of communion: of suffering together and healing together, of realising that this actually still means something. And it matters that Ruben Amorim does not simply shrug and issue forgettable technocratic soundbites about working hard, but that he smashes televisions and talks about this being the worst United side in history, because this is a shower of nonsense, and he is quite frankly furious about it. The anger might not be wise. It might not always be smart. But it does at least come from a place of something real.

Of course, it will take more than a session of collective scream therapy to bully this United squad into alignment. The trick is to do it again against Fulham, and again against Steaua Bucharest, and to find that same energy in the low moments, in the still moments, with the wind in their face as well as at their back. But there are times when you get a glimpse of how it might all eventually work.

Let’s take Toby Collyer as one example. Centre-midfield, age 21, first European start, and basically a test case for how a system can either empower a player or make them look terrible. Collyer starts badly. He gets robbed by Nedim Bajrami early on and Raskin is clean through on goal. Rangers get quite a few opportunities on the counter and so Collyer basically spends a lot of time running away from the ball, galloping for the safety of the low block.

The point is not to single out the kid. The point is that when the whole team is turning and running, your rookie centre-mid is going to look a bit lost. But in the moments when United were able to apply some control, put on a collective squeeze, when Collyer was able to step up and press the receiver, then surprise: he looks a much more assured player! He can intercept and disrupt! He has space to ping it around! Collyer has a storming second half and leaves the field to a standing ovation. See how simple this is?

Amorim’s famous 3-4-3 is actually a conventional 4-4-2 out of possession. Here Diogo Dalot stepped back, Christian Eriksen pushed up alongside Joshua Zirkzee, and while Rangers were occasionally able to play out, as so many of United’s opponents have this season, there is at least the outline of a strategy here.

It needs tightening. It needs drilling. It probably needs at least half a dozen new players that United can scarcely afford right now. It needs a fully fit Leny Yoro, proper wing-backs, a version of the Matthijs de Ligt closer to the ball-playing titan of Ajax than the man who now approaches the football like he’s worried it might be a trick cake. But it does feel like a more sustainable approach than simply giving up entirely and becoming a novelty basketball team, a team of transitions and cheap thrills.

“Your debt, not ours,” a banner read in the Stretford End at full time. There is still so much energy at this club. Still so much pride and anger and defiance and still – after everything, despite everything – so much hope. The question for those in charge at United is: what do you do with that hope? Is it a seed to be fed and nourished? Or an asset to be sweated?