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Tbecame clear Ruben Amorim could survive losing against lower-league opposition. He weathered a decisive European final versus a particularly poor Tottenham teams in living memory. He could survive home defeats to domestic rivals, a lowly league position, his rigid approach, undermining some of the club’s most promising homegrown talent, a poor winning percentage, labeling the squad the worst the club has ever seen. Yet, there existed one adversary against whom Ruben Amorim was not permitted to dance. If you challenge Jason Wilcox, you had better succeed.

Unfortunately, like many a Premiership defender during Blackburn Rovers' title-winning 1994-95 season, Amorim took on the executive and seems to have failed. The most casual observer can see the paradoxical situation: a manager who often railed his squad for failing in individual battles crumbling when confronted by the white heat and formidable presence of a England's top division's most intimidating sporting directors.

In truth, this entire bruising episode seems to paint Jason Wilcox in a different perspective. Perhaps it might have been tempting, given his brief stint of experience with the Saints, to view him as little more than a functionary within the club's structure: a man whose appointment was due largely to his close relationship with his former boss a fellow executive rather than any verifiable talent. How mistaken everyone was. In brilliantly outmanoeuvring United’s feted manager, just as he bested the hapless a previous executive earlier, Jason Wilcox has demonstrated to be among the sport’s strategic masterminds: a strategic mind of which United’s mid-table rivals are now rightly wary.

A Tactical Conflict Regarding Formation & Ideology

To illustrate, this was Jason Wilcox , after having been part of the hierarchy that hired the rigid 3-4-3 advocate the coach in the first place, was instrumental in attempting to convince Amorim to abandon his favored formation. Naturally, these entreaties met a certain resistance. However, these judgements carry more weight when delivered from the mouth of a man the impeccable football pedigree of Jason Wilcox, a veteran of three England caps and a contributor to a championship team from 31 years ago.

Maybe eventually he might agree to explain his reasoning publicly. Perhaps at some point he might be asked why Amorim is departing with a full payout, with no penalty clause in place. The director seldom speaks publicly, for excellent reasons. The true intellectuals of this sport – individuals such as Jason Wilcox – simply operate at a level beyond our own mundane comprehension. Were he to speak, probably we would perceive is a series of high-frequency signals and four-dimensional whirring. Desiring an explanation is not equivalent to being prepared to receive.

The Ultimate Authority In the Throne

Naturally, in training our focus on Jason Wilcox we are obscuring the true genius behind the modern United throne. Jason Wilcox is, after all, merely executing the commands of his ultimate line manager the billionaire owner, who in private has emphasized his preference for a four-man defense. It is reported, the owner has also proposed playing Bryan Mbeumo as a right wing-back. Ratcliffe is keen for United to adopt data science and analytics. According to ESPN, during a leadership summit soon after his minority ownership, he announced that the team's approach of play “shall be determined by this group”.

Ultimately, Ratcliffe is an expert in these intricate footballing stuff, drawing from his previous experience in petrochemicals and sailing. Above all he is immensely wealthy, and it is known, the wealthy are the best of us: more perceptive, more wise, more tactically astute, simply better. Who else would you trust to manage an enlightened programme of austerity, the construction of a modern arena that looks similar to someone’s leftover knitting, the signing of a new striker?

A New Football Hierarchy: Executives Above Managers

This is a trend that is becoming prevalent at the elite levels of the game. Historically, clubs foolishly entrusted big footballing decisions to subordinate staff such as coaches, talent spotters – even footballers. Perhaps it was once feasible for a young, innovative manager with ideas and energy to join a club and see their vision through to completion. Yet how many companies have these guys established? What number of mass redundancies have they managed? Better by far to place the real power where it belongs: the leadership tier, the casually dressed executives, the guys with impressive LinkedIn profiles. It is wiser to determine the tactics in the boardroom and hire a coach who can tailor their methods accordingly. If coaches were once chefs, they have become more akin to delivery personnel: not creating the product, yet finally accountable should it be delivered poorly or leaks out to meet standards.

Nowadays, a coach's role is increasingly not about defining the vision and more about selling it: the receptionist on the front desk, the visible figurehead of an organisation they have minimal power to change. Enzo Maresca takes a squad of literal children into the Champions League and secures domestic cups, and essentially is dismissed for talking. A manager at Celtic finds his reputation ruined whereas those individuals who hired him live to blunder another day.

A Neoliberal Football: Responsibility for the Few

And perhaps on some microcosmic level this is simply neoliberalism at work: the elevation of a gilded overclass who can never be wrong, whose decisions are always untouchable, whose mistakes can always be resolved by sacking without explanation. Appoint the system coach only to fire him for using too much 3-4-3. Hire the process guy and later discard him for taking too long. And most importantly show gratitude; for the incremental season ticket price rises, for your new summer signings, for the reality that the grownups – regardless of their expertise – remain in control.