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Iturns out Ruben Amorim could survive a loss to lower-league opposition. He weathered losing a crucial European final against one of the worst Tottenham teams in living memory. He withstood losing at home against West Ham and Wolves, a lowly league position, an unwavering system, undermining some of the club’s best academy products, a poor winning percentage, calling his team the poorest the club has ever seen. Yet, there existed a single opponent against whom the Portuguese coach was not permitted to tango. You come at the sporting director, and you best not miss.

Regrettably, similar to numerous top-flight defender in Blackburn’s title-winning 1994-95 season, the coach took on Jason Wilcox and seems to have missed. The most casual observer will notice the irony here: a coach who frequently berated his squad for losing one-on-one duels succumbing when confronted by the intense pressure and animal charisma of one of England's top division's most intimidating football executives.

And frankly, this entire bruising episode seems to paint the director in a different perspective. Perhaps it might have been tempting, given his nine months of experience with the Saints, to regard Jason Wilcox as little more than a functionary 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 verifiable talent. How wrong everyone was. In brilliantly outsmarting the club's celebrated manager, just as he bested the unfortunate Dan Ashworth before him, Jason Wilcox has proved himself as one of football's true generals: a strategic mind that United’s competitors are now rightly wary.

A Tactical Conflict Regarding System & Ideology

To illustrate, this was the director , after having been part of the leadership that appointed the rigid 3-4-3 advocate the coach originally, was instrumental in trying to persuade him to ditch his beloved 3-4-3. Unsurprisingly, these entreaties met a certain resistance. However, such directives hold greater authority when issued by a man of a man the unimpeachable football pedigree of Jason Wilcox, holder of three England caps and a contributor to a championship team decades past.

Perhaps in time he might agree to outline his thought processes to the rest of us. Maybe one day questions may arise why Amorim is departing with full compensation, with no penalty clause activated. But Jason Wilcox seldom speaks publicly, and with very good reason. The true intellectuals in football – men like Jason Wilcox – function at a level beyond our own mundane comprehension. If he ever did speak, probably all we would hear would be ultrasonic blips and complex calculations. Wanting is not quite the same as being prepared to comprehend it.

The Supreme Power In the Throne

Naturally, by focusing our attention on the sporting director we overlook the true genius behind the modern United throne. Jason Wilcox is, in reality, merely executing the directives of his ultimate line manager Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who privately has made very clear his desire for a back four. It is reported, Ratcliffe has also suggested playing Bryan Mbeumo as a right wing-back. Ratcliffe is keen for the club to adopt data science and analytics. According to ESPN, during a leadership summit soon after his investment, he announced that the team's approach to football “will be determined in this room”.

After all, Ratcliffe is a specialist in this technical football matters, leveraging his background in industry and sailing. Above all he is immensely wealthy, and as we all know, the wealthy are the best of us: more insightful, more wise, strategically brilliant, simply superior. Who else could one trust to manage a strategic plan of cost-cutting, the construction of a modern arena that looks a lot like an abstract design, the signing of a new striker?

A New Soccer Order: Executives Over Managers

This is a trend we are increasingly seeing in top-tier football. For decades, clubs foolishly entrusted big footballing decisions to subordinate staff such as coaches, scouts – players themselves. Perhaps it was once possible for a young, innovative manager with a philosophy and energy to go into an organization and implement their plan supported to fruition. But how many companies have these guys set up? What number of mass redundancies have they overseen? Better by far to place genuine authority where it belongs: the executive class, the open-necked shirt brigade, the individuals with impressive LinkedIn profiles. It is wiser to decide the strategy by the directors and appoint a coach who will adapt their methods to suit. If managers were formerly chefs, they have become more like delivery personnel: not creating the food, but still ultimately answerable if it arrives cold or fails to meet standards.

In the meantime, their job is increasingly less about crafting the philosophy and more about marketing it: the front-facing representative of the operation, the public face of an organisation they can do little to change. A coach at Chelsea takes a squad of literal children into Europe and wins two medium-sized trophies, and essentially gets sacked for talking. Wilfried Nancy sees his standing damaged whereas the people who hired him live to blunder another day.

A Neoliberal Football: Responsibility for the Few

And perhaps in a small way this is simply corporate governance in action: the elevation of a privileged overclass who can never be wrong, whose decisions are always sacrosanct, whose mistakes can always be resolved by sacking without justification. Hire the system coach and then fire him for playing too much 3-4-3. Hire the project manager and later discard them for requiring excessive time. And above all be grateful; for your modest season ticket price rises, for the latest summer signings, for the fact that the adults – however well qualified – are in charge.