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Transpired Ruben Amorim endured losing against lower-league opposition. He weathered an important European final versus one of the worst Spurs sides in living memory. He withstood home defeats to domestic rivals, finishing 15th, an unwavering system, squandering some of the club’s best homegrown talent, the 32% win rate, calling the squad the poorest in Manchester United history. But there was one adversary against whom the Portuguese coach would not be allowed to dance. You come at the sporting director, you had better succeed.

Unfortunately, like many a top-flight defender during Blackburn Rovers' championship 1994-95 season, Amorim came at Jason Wilcox and seems to have failed. The most casual observer will notice the paradoxical situation: a manager who often railed his squad for failing in one-on-one duels succumbing in the face of the white heat and animal charisma of one of the Premier League’s most intimidating football executives.

And frankly, this entire bruising episode appears to portray the director in a whole new light. It may have been tempting, given his brief stint in a similar role with the Saints, to view Jason Wilcox as little more than a drudge within the club's structure: an individual who owed his position as much to his friendship with ex-colleague Omar Berrada as any verifiable talent. How wrong we all were. In brilliantly outsmarting the club's celebrated manager, as he outmanoeuvred the unfortunate Dan Ashworth earlier, Jason Wilcox has proved himself to be among football's strategic masterminds: a tactical intellect of which the club's mid-table rivals will now be justifiably concerned.

A Strategic Clash Regarding Formation & Philosophy

For example, this was the director who being involved in the leadership that hired the rigid 3-4-3 advocate Amorim in the first place, played a key role in trying to persuade him to ditch his beloved 3-4-3. Naturally, these pleas met a certain resistance. However, these judgements carry more weight when issued from the mouth of a man the impeccable football pedigree of Jason Wilcox, holder of international appearances and a role in a championship team from 31 years ago.

Perhaps in time Jason Wilcox may be persuaded to explain his thought processes to the rest of us. Perhaps at some point he might be asked regarding why the coach is departing with a full payout, with no compensation reduction clause activated. But Jason Wilcox seldom speaks publicly, for excellent reasons. The real thinkers of this sport – individuals such as him – simply operate at a level exceeding our prosaic understanding. Were he to speak, most likely all we would hear would be ultrasonic blips and complex calculations. Desiring an explanation is not quite equivalent to being prepared to comprehend it.

The Ultimate Power Behind Command

But of course, in training our focus on Jason Wilcox we are obscuring the real power behind the club's current leadership. The director is, in reality, merely executing the commands of his line manager the billionaire owner, who in private has made very clear his desire for a four-man defense. It is reported, Ratcliffe has also suggested deploying the forward in a wing-back role. The owner is eager for United to embrace data science and analytics. According to ESPN, during a leadership summit soon after his minority ownership, he declared that the team's approach of play “shall be decided in this room”.

Ultimately, Ratcliffe is an expert in these intricate football matters, drawing from his background in industry and yachting. Above all he is immensely wealthy, and as we all know, the rich are the best of us: more perceptive, more wise, more tactically astute, simply better. Whom else would you trust to oversee a strategic plan of cost-cutting, the construction of a new stadium that looks similar to an abstract design, the signing of a new striker?

A Modern Soccer Hierarchy: Executives Over Managers

This represents a shift we are increasingly seeing in top-tier football. For decades, clubs foolishly delegated big footballing decisions to subordinate staff such as coaches, talent spotters – players themselves. Perhaps it was once feasible for an up-and-coming, innovative manager with ideas and energy to join a club and see their vision supported to fruition. Yet how many companies have these guys established? How many mass redundancies have they managed? Better by far to invest genuine authority where it belongs: the executive class, the open-necked shirt brigade, the individuals with the jaw-dropping professional resumes. It is wiser to decide the tactics by the directors and hire a coach who can tailor their offering accordingly. If coaches were formerly chefs, they have become more akin to Deliveroo drivers: not really creating the product, but still finally accountable should it be delivered poorly 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 front-facing representative on the front desk, the public face for a club they have minimal power to influence. Enzo Maresca leads a team of very young players into Europe and secures two medium-sized trophies, and essentially is dismissed for talking. Wilfried Nancy sees his reputation ruined while the people who appointed him live to blunder indefinitely.

A Neoliberal Football: Accountability Only for the Coaches

And perhaps in a small way this represents corporate governance in action: the elevation of a gilded elite who can never be wrong, whose decisions are always untouchable, whose errors can invariably be sacked away without justification. Appoint the 3-4-3 coach and then dismiss them for using too much 3-4-3. Bring in 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 player acquisitions, for the reality that the grownups – regardless of their expertise – remain in control.