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Transpired Ruben Amorim was able to withstand a loss to Grimsby. He weathered a decisive European final against one of the worst Tottenham teams in living memory. He withstood home defeats against West Ham and Wolves, a lowly league position, his rigid approach, undermining the team's most promising academy products, the 32% win rate, labeling his team the worst in Manchester United history. But there was a single opponent against whom the Portuguese coach would not be allowed to dance. You come at Jason Wilcox, and you best not miss.

Unfortunately, like many a Premiership right-back in Blackburn’s championship 1994-95 season, the coach came at Jason Wilcox and seems to have missed. Even the most distracted of readers can see the paradoxical situation: a coach who often railed his squad for losing individual battles succumbing when confronted by the white heat and formidable presence of one of the Premier League’s most intimidating sporting directors.

In truth, this entire bruising episode appears to portray Jason Wilcox in a different perspective. It may have been tempting, given his brief stint in a similar role 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 Omar Berrada as any verifiable talent. How wrong everyone was. In brilliantly outsmarting the club's celebrated manager, just as he bested the unfortunate a previous executive earlier, Jason Wilcox has proved himself to be among football's strategic masterminds: a strategic mind of which the club's mid-table rivals are now rightly wary.

A Strategic Clash Over System and Philosophy

To illustrate, this was the director who being involved in the hierarchy that hired the 3-4-3 fundamentalist the coach originally, was instrumental in trying to persuade Amorim to ditch his favored formation. Naturally, these entreaties met a certain resistance. But perhaps such directives hold greater authority when issued from the mouth of a man the impeccable soccer background he possesses, a veteran of three England caps and a contributor to a title-winning side from 31 years ago.

Maybe eventually Jason Wilcox might agree to outline his thought processes publicly. Maybe one day he might be asked why Amorim is departing with full compensation, with no penalty clause activated. The director speaks rarely in public, for excellent reasons. The true intellectuals of this sport – individuals such as Jason Wilcox – simply operate at a level exceeding our mundane comprehension. If he ever did speak, most likely all we would hear would be high-frequency signals and complex calculations. Desiring an explanation is not quite equivalent to being prepared to receive.

The Supreme Power In Command

Naturally, by focusing our attention on Jason Wilcox we are obscuring the real power behind the modern United throne. Jason Wilcox is, in reality, simply carrying out the commands of his superior Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who in private has emphasized his desire for a four-man defense. It is reported, Ratcliffe has also suggested playing Bryan Mbeumo as a right wing-back. Ratcliffe is keen for the club to adopt analytics and analytics. Per reports, in an executive meeting soon after his minority ownership, he declared that the team's approach to football “shall be determined by this group”.

After all, Sir Jim is a specialist in this technical football matters, drawing from his previous experience in industry and yachting. Most importantly he remains immensely wealthy, and it is known, the wealthy are the best of us: more perceptive, sagacious, more tactically astute, fundamentally superior. Who else would you trust to manage an enlightened programme of austerity, the building of a modern arena that looks a lot like someone’s leftover knitting, the acquisition of a new striker?

The New Soccer Order: Executives Over Coaches

This is a trend we are increasingly seeing in top-tier football. For decades, teams mistakenly entrusted big footballing decisions to subordinate staff like managers, talent spotters – players themselves. Maybe previously possible for an up-and-coming, innovative manager with a philosophy and energy to go into a club and implement their plan through to completion. Yet how many businesses have these guys established? How many large-scale layoffs have they overseen? Far preferable to place the real power where it rightly belongs: the executive class, the open-necked shirt brigade, the guys with the jaw-dropping professional resumes. Better by far to decide the tactics by the directors and hire someone who can tailor their offering accordingly. If coaches were formerly chefs, they are now more like delivery personnel: not really creating the product, yet ultimately answerable should it be delivered poorly or fails to meet standards.

In the meantime, their job is increasingly not about defining the vision and more about selling it: the front-facing representative on the front desk, the visible figurehead of an organisation they have minimal power to influence. A coach at Chelsea leads a team of literal children into the Champions League and wins domestic cups, and effectively gets sacked for speaking out. A manager at Celtic finds his standing damaged whereas the people who hired him live to blunder indefinitely.

The Neoliberal Football: Responsibility Only for the Coaches

And perhaps on some microcosmic level this represents neoliberalism at work: the rise of a privileged elite who are infallible, whose choices remain sacrosanct, whose errors can always be sacked away without justification. Appoint the 3-4-3 coach only to dismiss them for playing excessively that system. Bring in the process guy and then bin him for taking too long. And most importantly be grateful; for your modest increases in ticket costs, for your new player acquisitions, for the reality that the adults – regardless of their expertise – remain in control.