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Tbecame clear he was able to withstand losing against Grimsby. He weathered losing a crucial European final versus one of the worst Spurs sides for many years. He withstood home defeats to domestic rivals, finishing 15th, an unwavering system, laying waste to the team's most promising academy products, the 32% win rate, labeling the squad the worst the club has ever seen. But there was one adversary with whom Ruben Amorim was not permitted to engage. You come at the sporting director, you had better succeed.

Unfortunately, similar to numerous top-flight defender during Blackburn Rovers' title-winning campaign, Amorim came at the executive and seems to have missed. The most distracted of readers will notice the paradoxical situation: a manager who frequently berated at his players for failing in one-on-one duels crumbling in the face of the intense pressure and animal charisma of one of the Premier League’s most feared football executives.

In truth, this whole bruising episode appears to portray the director in a different perspective. Perhaps it might have been easy, based on his nine months in a similar role at Southampton, to view Jason Wilcox as merely a functionary within the club's structure: a man who owed his position as much to his friendship with ex-colleague Omar Berrada rather than any verifiable talent. How mistaken everyone was. In brilliantly outmanoeuvring the club's celebrated head coach, just as he bested the unfortunate Dan Ashworth earlier, he has proved himself as one of the sport’s strategic masterminds: a strategic mind of which the club's competitors will now be justifiably concerned.

A Tactical Conflict Over Formation & Philosophy

To illustrate, this was the director , after being involved in the hierarchy that appointed the rigid 3-4-3 advocate Amorim originally, was instrumental in attempting to convince him to ditch his favored formation. Unsurprisingly, these pleas were resisted. But perhaps such directives carry more weight when delivered from the mouth with the unimpeachable football pedigree he possesses, holder of three England caps and a contributor to a title-winning side from 31 years ago.

Maybe eventually he may be persuaded to explain his thought processes to the rest of us. Maybe one day he might be asked why Amorim is departing with full compensation, without any penalty clause in place. But Jason Wilcox speaks rarely publicly, for excellent reasons. The real thinkers of this sport – men like Jason Wilcox – function at a level beyond our own prosaic understanding. If he ever did speak, most likely we would perceive is a series of ultrasonic blips and four-dimensional whirring. Desiring an explanation is not quite equivalent to being ready to comprehend it.

An Supreme Power Behind the Throne

But of course, by focusing our attention on the sporting director we are obscuring the real power behind the club's current leadership. Jason Wilcox is, after all, merely executing the directives of his ultimate superior Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who in private has made very clear his preference for a four-man defense. According to reports, the owner has also proposed playing Bryan Mbeumo in a wing-back role. Ratcliffe is keen for United to adopt data science and analytics. According to ESPN, in an executive meeting early in his minority ownership, he declared that the team's approach of play “will be determined in this room”.

Ultimately, Ratcliffe is an expert in this technical football matters, leveraging his previous experience in industry and sailing. Above all he is incredibly rich, and as we all know, the wealthy are the best of us: more perceptive, more wise, strategically brilliant, fundamentally superior. Who else could one trust to manage an enlightened programme of cost-cutting, the building of a new stadium that looks a lot like someone’s leftover knitting, the acquisition of a new striker?

A New Soccer Hierarchy: Directors Above Coaches

This is a trend that is becoming prevalent at the elite levels of the game. Historically, clubs foolishly delegated major sporting choices to subordinate staff like managers, scouts – players themselves. Maybe previously feasible for an up-and-coming, innovative manager with ideas and energy to join a club and see their vision supported to fruition. But how many businesses have these guys established? What number of mass redundancies have they overseen? Far preferable to place the real power where it rightly belongs: the leadership tier, the casually dressed executives, the individuals with impressive LinkedIn profiles. Better by far to determine the strategy in the boardroom and hire a coach who can tailor their methods to suit. If coaches were formerly chefs, they have become more akin to Deliveroo drivers: not really creating the product, yet ultimately answerable if it arrives cold or leaks out to meet standards.

In the meantime, a coach's role has become not about defining the vision and more about marketing it: the receptionist of the operation, the visible figurehead of an organisation they can do little to change. Enzo Maresca leads a team of literal children into the Champions League and wins domestic cups, and effectively gets sacked for speaking out. Wilfried Nancy finds his reputation ruined whereas those individuals who appointed him continue to make errors indefinitely.

The Neoliberal Football: Accountability Only for the Coaches

And perhaps in a small way this represents corporate governance at work: the elevation of a privileged elite who are infallible, whose decisions are always sacrosanct, whose errors can always be sacked away without explanation. Hire the system coach only to fire them for using too much 3-4-3. Bring in the project manager and then bin him for taking too long. And above all show gratitude; for your modest season ticket price rises, for your new player acquisitions, for the reality that the grownups – however well qualified – remain in control.