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Itbecame clear Ruben Amorim could survive a loss to Grimsby. Survive an important European final versus one of the worst Spurs sides for many years. He withstood losing at home to West Ham and Wolves, finishing 15th, an unwavering system, laying waste to some of the club’s most promising homegrown talent, a poor winning percentage, calling his team the worst in Manchester United history. But there was one adversary with whom the Portuguese coach was not permitted to tango. If you challenge the sporting director, you had better succeed.

Unfortunately, like many a top-flight defender during Blackburn Rovers' title-winning 1994-95 season, Amorim came at the executive and seems to have failed. Even the most distracted of readers will notice the paradoxical situation: a manager who often railed his squad for failing in individual battles crumbling in the face of the intense pressure and animal charisma of one of the Premier League’s most intimidating sporting directors.

And frankly, this entire bruising episode appears to portray the director in a whole new light. Perhaps it might have been easy, given his brief stint in a similar role with the Saints, to regard Jason Wilcox as little more than a drudge in the United exoskeleton: an individual whose appointment was due as much to his friendship with his former boss a fellow executive rather than any demonstrable skill. How mistaken everyone was. In brilliantly outsmarting the club's celebrated manager, as he outmanoeuvred the hapless Dan Ashworth before him, he has demonstrated as one of the sport’s strategic masterminds: a tactical intellect that United’s mid-table rivals are now rightly wary.

The Tactical Clash Over Formation & Ideology

For example, it was Jason Wilcox who having been part of the hierarchy that appointed the 3-4-3 fundamentalist Amorim in the first place, was instrumental in attempting to convince him to ditch his favored formation. Naturally, these entreaties were resisted. However, these judgements carry more weight when delivered from the mouth with the unimpeachable soccer background he possesses, holder of three England caps and a contributor to a championship team from 31 years ago.

Perhaps in time he might agree to explain his thought processes publicly. Perhaps at some point questions may arise why Amorim is walking away with a full payout, with no penalty clause in place. But Jason Wilcox speaks rarely publicly, for excellent reasons. The true intellectuals in football – individuals such as Jason Wilcox – simply operate at a level exceeding our prosaic understanding. If he ever did speak, most likely we would perceive is a series of high-frequency signals and complex calculations. Wanting is not equivalent to being prepared to comprehend it.

An Supreme Authority Behind the Throne

But of course, in training our focus on Jason Wilcox we are obscuring the true genius behind the modern United throne. The director is, after all, merely executing the directives of his superior the billionaire owner, who privately has made very clear his preference for a four-man defense. According to reports, the owner has also proposed deploying the forward as a right wing-back. The owner is eager for the club to adopt analytics and metrics. According to ESPN, during a leadership summit early in his investment, he announced that the team's approach to football “will be decided in this room”.

Ultimately, Sir Jim is an expert in this technical football matters, leveraging his background in industry and yachting. Most importantly he remains immensely wealthy, and it is known, the rich are superior: more perceptive, sagacious, strategically brilliant, fundamentally better. Whom else would you trust to oversee an enlightened programme of austerity, the building of a modern arena that looks a lot like someone’s leftover knitting, the signing of a new striker?

The Modern Soccer Hierarchy: Directors Over Managers

This is a trend we are increasingly seeing at the elite levels of the game. Historically, teams mistakenly entrusted big footballing decisions to subordinate staff like managers, scouts – players themselves. Perhaps it was once feasible for an up-and-coming, visionary coach with ideas and energy to go into a club and see their vision through to completion. Yet how many businesses have these guys established? How many mass redundancies have they overseen? Better by far to invest genuine authority where it belongs: the executive class, the open-necked shirt brigade, the individuals with the jaw-dropping LinkedIn profiles. Better by far to decide the strategy in the boardroom and appoint a coach who can tailor their offering accordingly. If coaches were formerly chefs, they have become more like Deliveroo drivers: not creating the food, but still ultimately answerable should it be delivered cold or leaks out of the box.

Nowadays, 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 for a club they can do little to influence. Enzo Maresca takes a squad of very young players into Europe and secures two medium-sized trophies, and effectively is dismissed for speaking out. A manager at Celtic finds his reputation ruined whereas those individuals who hired him live to blunder indefinitely.

The Neoliberal Football: Responsibility Only for the Coaches

And perhaps on some microcosmic level this is simply neoliberalism at work: the rise of a privileged elite who can never be wrong, whose choices remain sacrosanct, whose mistakes can invariably be resolved by sacking without justification. Appoint the system coach only to dismiss them for playing excessively 3-4-3. Hire the project manager and later bin them for taking excessive time. And most importantly be grateful; for your modest increases in ticket costs, for the latest player acquisitions, for the fact that the adults – regardless of their expertise – remain in control.