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Itranspired Ruben Amorim endured losing against lower-league opposition. He weathered an important European final against a particularly poor Spurs sides in living memory. He withstood home defeats against West Ham and Wolves, a lowly league position, an unwavering system, laying waste to the team's best academy products, a poor winning percentage, calling his team the worst the club has ever seen. But there was one adversary with whom Ruben Amorim would not be allowed to engage. You come at Jason Wilcox, and you best not miss.

Unfortunately, like many a top-flight defender in Blackburn’s title-winning campaign, Amorim came at the executive and seems to have failed. The most casual observer will notice the irony here: a manager who often railed his squad for losing one-on-one duels crumbling when confronted by the white heat and animal charisma of one of the Premier League’s most intimidating sporting directors.

In truth, this entire bruising episode appears to portray the director in a different perspective. It may have been easy, given his nine months of experience with the Saints, to regard him as little more than a drudge in the United exoskeleton: an individual whose appointment was due largely to his friendship with his former boss a fellow executive rather than any demonstrable skill. How mistaken we all were. By masterfully outsmarting United’s feted head coach, just as he bested the unfortunate Dan Ashworth earlier, Jason Wilcox has demonstrated as one of the sport’s true generals: a strategic mind of which United’s competitors are now justifiably concerned.

The Strategic Conflict Regarding System and Ideology

For example, it was the director , after having been part of the hierarchy that appointed the rigid 3-4-3 advocate the coach in the first place, played a key role in attempting to convince Amorim to abandon his favored 3-4-3. Naturally, these pleas met a certain resistance. However, these judgements carry more weight when delivered by a man with the unimpeachable football pedigree of Jason Wilcox, 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 he might be asked why Amorim is walking away with a full payout, with no compensation reduction clause in place. But Jason Wilcox speaks rarely publicly, for excellent reasons. The true intellectuals in football – men like Jason Wilcox – function at a level exceeding our prosaic understanding. Were he to speak, probably all we would hear is a series of high-frequency signals and complex calculations. Desiring an explanation is not quite the same as being ready to receive.

The Ultimate Power In the Throne

Naturally, by focusing our attention on Jason Wilcox we overlook the real power behind the club's current leadership. Jason Wilcox is, after all, merely executing the commands of his ultimate line manager the billionaire owner, who privately has emphasized his preference for a back four. It is reported, Ratcliffe has also proposed playing Bryan Mbeumo as a right wing-back. Ratcliffe is keen for the club to adopt data science and analytics. Per reports, during a leadership summit early in his minority ownership, he declared that United’s style of play “will be determined in this room”.

Ultimately, Ratcliffe is a specialist in these intricate football matters, drawing from his previous experience in petrochemicals and yachting. Above all he is immensely wealthy, and as we all know, the rich are the best of us: more perceptive, sagacious, strategically brilliant, fundamentally superior. Who else could one trust to manage a strategic plan of cost-cutting, the construction of a modern arena that looks similar to someone’s leftover knitting, the signing of Benjamin Sesko?

The Modern Football Hierarchy: Directors Over Managers

This represents a shift that is becoming prevalent in top-tier of the game. Historically, teams mistakenly entrusted big footballing decisions to low-level employees like managers, talent spotters – players themselves. Maybe previously feasible for a young, visionary coach with ideas and energy to go into a club and see their vision through to completion. But how many companies have such individuals established? What number of large-scale layoffs have they overseen? Better by far to place the real power where it belongs: the leadership tier, the open-necked shirt brigade, the individuals with the jaw-dropping professional resumes. Better by far to decide the tactics by the directors and appoint a coach who can tailor their methods accordingly. If coaches were formerly chefs, they are now more akin to Deliveroo drivers: not creating the food, yet finally accountable if it arrives poorly or fails of the box.

In the meantime, their job has become less about defining the vision and more about selling it: the front-facing representative on the front desk, the public face for a club they can do little to influence. A coach at Chelsea leads a team of literal children into the Champions League and wins two medium-sized trophies, and essentially is dismissed for talking. A manager at Celtic finds his reputation ruined while those individuals who hired him live to blunder indefinitely.

A Neoliberal Football: Accountability Only for the Coaches

And possibly on some microcosmic level this represents neoliberalism in action: the elevation of a gilded elite who can never be wrong, whose choices are always sacrosanct, whose mistakes can invariably be sacked away without explanation. Appoint the system coach only to dismiss him for playing excessively that system. Hire the project manager and then bin him for requiring excessive time. And most importantly show gratitude; for your modest increases in ticket costs, for your new summer signings, for the fact that the adults – however well qualified – are in charge.