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Transpired Ruben Amorim was able to withstand losing against lower-league opposition. He weathered an important continental showpiece versus a particularly poor Spurs sides in living memory. He could survive losing at home to domestic rivals, a lowly league position, an unwavering system, laying waste to the team's best homegrown talent, a poor winning percentage, labeling the squad the poorest the club has ever seen. Yet, there existed one adversary with whom Ruben Amorim was not permitted to tango. If you challenge Jason Wilcox, you had better succeed.

Regrettably, like many a top-flight defender during Blackburn Rovers' title-winning campaign, Amorim came at Jason Wilcox and appears to have missed. The most casual observer can see the irony here: a coach who often railed at his players for losing individual battles succumbing in the face of the white heat and animal charisma of a the Premier League’s most intimidating sporting directors.

And frankly, this entire painful saga seems to paint the director in a different perspective. It may have been easy, given his brief stint of experience at Southampton, to regard Jason Wilcox as merely a functionary within the club's structure: an individual who owed his position as much to his close relationship with his former boss a fellow executive rather than any demonstrable skill. How mistaken everyone was. By masterfully outmanoeuvring the club's celebrated head coach, as he outmanoeuvred the unfortunate a previous executive before him, he has demonstrated as one of football's strategic masterminds: a strategic mind of which United’s competitors will now be rightly wary.

A Tactical Conflict Regarding Formation and Philosophy

For example, this was the director who having been part of the leadership that appointed the rigid 3-4-3 advocate the coach in the first place, was instrumental in attempting to convince Amorim to ditch his favored 3-4-3. Unsurprisingly, these pleas met a certain resistance. But perhaps these judgements carry more weight when issued from the mouth of a man the unimpeachable soccer background he possesses, a veteran of three England caps and a role in a championship team from 31 years ago.

Perhaps in time he may be persuaded to outline his reasoning publicly. Perhaps at some point questions may arise regarding why the coach is departing with full compensation, with no penalty clause in place. But Jason Wilcox speaks rarely in public, and with very good reason. The real thinkers in football – men like Jason Wilcox – function on a plane exceeding our prosaic understanding. Were he to speak, most likely we would perceive is a series of ultrasonic blips and complex calculations. Desiring an explanation is not equivalent to being prepared to receive.

An Ultimate Power In the Throne

Naturally, by focusing our attention on Jason Wilcox we overlook the true genius behind the modern United throne. Jason Wilcox is, in reality, merely executing the commands of his ultimate line manager Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who privately has made very clear his preference for a four-man defense. According to reports, the owner has also proposed deploying the forward as a right wing-back. The owner is eager for United to embrace analytics and analytics. According to ESPN, in an executive meeting soon after his minority ownership, he announced that the team's approach to football “shall be determined in this room”.

Ultimately, Sir Jim is a specialist in this technical footballing stuff, drawing from his previous experience in industry and sailing. Above all he is incredibly rich, and as we all know, the rich are superior: more insightful, more wise, more tactically astute, simply better. Whom else could one trust to manage an enlightened programme of austerity, the building of a new stadium that looks similar to someone’s leftover knitting, the acquisition of a new striker?

The New Soccer Hierarchy: Directors Over Coaches

This is a trend we are increasingly seeing in top-tier of the game. Historically, teams mistakenly delegated big footballing decisions to subordinate staff such as coaches, scouts – players themselves. Maybe previously feasible for an up-and-coming, innovative manager with ideas and energy to join a club and implement their plan supported to fruition. Yet how many companies have such individuals established? How many mass redundancies have they overseen? Far preferable to place genuine authority where it belongs: the leadership tier, the open-necked shirt brigade, the guys with the jaw-dropping professional resumes. Better by far to decide the strategy in the boardroom and hire someone who can tailor their methods to suit. If managers were once chefs, they have become more like Deliveroo drivers: not really creating the food, yet ultimately answerable if it arrives cold or fails to meet standards.

Nowadays, a coach's role is increasingly less about crafting the philosophy and more about selling it: the receptionist on the front desk, the public face for a club they have minimal power to change. A coach at Chelsea takes a squad of literal children into Europe and wins domestic cups, and effectively gets sacked for talking. A manager at Celtic sees his standing damaged while the people who appointed him continue to make errors another day.

A Neoliberal Football: Responsibility Only for the Few

And perhaps on some microcosmic level this is simply corporate governance at work: the rise of a gilded elite who are infallible, whose choices remain untouchable, whose mistakes can always be resolved by sacking without explanation. Appoint the 3-4-3 coach and then fire them for playing excessively 3-4-3. Bring in the project manager and later discard him for requiring too long. And most importantly show gratitude; for your modest season ticket price rises, for the latest player acquisitions, for the reality that the adults – however well qualified – remain in control.