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Itranspired he could survive defeat by Grimsby. Survive losing a crucial continental showpiece against a particularly poor Tottenham teams for many years. He could survive losing at home against domestic rivals, finishing 15th, an unwavering system, laying waste to the team's best academy products, a poor winning percentage, labeling the squad the poorest in Manchester United history. Yet, there existed a single opponent with whom Ruben Amorim was not permitted to engage. You come at the sporting director, and you best not miss.

Unfortunately, like many a Premiership defender in Blackburn’s title-winning 1994-95 season, Amorim took on the executive and seems to have failed. The most casual observer will notice the irony here: a manager who often railed at his players for failing in one-on-one duels succumbing when confronted by the white heat and animal charisma of one of England's top division's most intimidating football executives.

In truth, this entire painful saga seems to paint the director in a whole new light. Perhaps it might have been easy, based on his brief stint in a similar role at Southampton, to regard Jason Wilcox as little more than a drudge within the club's structure: an individual who owed his position largely to his friendship with ex-colleague a fellow executive rather than any demonstrable skill. How wrong we all were. By masterfully outsmarting United’s feted manager, just as he bested the unfortunate a previous executive before him, he has demonstrated as one of football's strategic masterminds: a strategic mind of which the club's mid-table rivals are now justifiably concerned.

A Strategic Clash Over System and Ideology

To illustrate, this was Jason Wilcox who having been part of the hierarchy that hired the rigid 3-4-3 advocate the coach originally, was instrumental in attempting to convince him to abandon his beloved 3-4-3. Unsurprisingly, these pleas met a certain resistance. But perhaps such directives carry more weight when issued by a man of a man the unimpeachable football pedigree he possesses, a veteran of international appearances and a contributor to a title-winning side decades past.

Maybe eventually he may be persuaded to explain his reasoning publicly. Maybe one day he might be asked why Amorim is walking away with a full payout, with no compensation reduction clause in place. The director seldom speaks publicly, and with very good reason. The real thinkers of this sport – men like Jason Wilcox – function on a plane beyond our own mundane comprehension. If he ever did speak, most likely all we would hear is a series of ultrasonic blips and complex calculations. Desiring an explanation is not equivalent to being prepared to receive.

An Ultimate Power Behind Command

Naturally, in training our focus on Jason Wilcox we are obscuring the true genius behind the modern United throne. Jason Wilcox is, after all, simply carrying out the commands of his line manager Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who privately has made very clear his preference for a back four. It is reported, Ratcliffe has also proposed playing Bryan Mbeumo as a right wing-back. The owner is eager for United to embrace analytics and analytics. Per reports, during a leadership summit soon after his minority ownership, he announced that United’s style of play “will be determined in this room”.

After all, Ratcliffe is an expert in these intricate footballing stuff, leveraging his background in industry and yachting. Above all he remains incredibly rich, and as we all know, the rich are superior: more insightful, more wise, more tactically astute, fundamentally better. Who else would you trust to oversee an enlightened programme of austerity, the construction of a modern arena that looks similar to an abstract design, the signing of a new striker?

A Modern Soccer Order: Directors Above Managers

This represents a shift we are increasingly seeing at the elite levels of the game. Historically, clubs foolishly entrusted major sporting choices to subordinate staff like managers, talent spotters – players themselves. Perhaps it was once feasible for an up-and-coming, visionary coach with ideas and energy to join an organization and implement their plan supported to fruition. But how many companies have such individuals established? How many mass redundancies have they managed? Better by far to invest the real power where it rightly belongs: the executive class, the open-necked shirt brigade, the individuals with the jaw-dropping LinkedIn profiles. It is wiser to determine the tactics in the boardroom and hire someone who can tailor their offering accordingly. If coaches were once chefs, they are now more akin to Deliveroo drivers: not really creating the food, but still finally accountable if it arrives cold or fails of the box.

In the meantime, a coach's role has become not about crafting the philosophy and more about selling it: the receptionist on the front desk, the public face of an organisation they have minimal power to change. A coach at Chelsea leads a team of very young players into the Champions League and wins two medium-sized trophies, and effectively gets sacked for talking. A manager at Celtic sees his standing damaged while those individuals who appointed him continue to make errors another day.

A Neoliberal Football: Accountability Only for the Few

And perhaps on some microcosmic level this is simply neoliberalism at work: the rise of a privileged elite who are infallible, whose decisions are always untouchable, whose mistakes can always be resolved by sacking without explanation. Appoint the 3-4-3 coach and then dismiss him for playing too much that system. Hire the project manager and later bin them for taking too long. And above all show gratitude; for the incremental season ticket price rises, for the latest player acquisitions, for the fact that the grownups – regardless of their expertise – remain in control.