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Itbecame clear Ruben Amorim endured defeat by lower-league opposition. Survive a decisive continental showpiece versus one of the worst Spurs sides for many years. He withstood losing at home against domestic rivals, a lowly league position, an unwavering system, laying waste to some of the club’s best homegrown talent, a poor winning percentage, calling the squad the worst in Manchester United history. Yet, there existed one adversary against whom the Portuguese coach was not permitted to engage. You come at the sporting director, you had better succeed.

Unfortunately, like many a Premiership defender in Blackburn’s championship campaign, Amorim took on the executive and appears to have missed. Even the most casual observer will notice the paradoxical situation: a manager who frequently berated at his players for failing in one-on-one duels succumbing in the face of the white heat and animal charisma of a England's top division's most intimidating sporting directors.

And frankly, this entire bruising episode seems to paint Jason Wilcox in a whole new light. It may have been tempting, given his brief stint in a similar role at Southampton, to view Jason Wilcox as little more than a functionary in the United exoskeleton: an individual whose appointment was due largely to his friendship with ex-colleague a fellow executive rather than any demonstrable skill. How mistaken we all were. In brilliantly outmanoeuvring United’s feted manager, as he outmanoeuvred the hapless a previous executive earlier, Jason Wilcox has proved himself as one of the sport’s true generals: a tactical intellect of which the club's mid-table rivals will now be justifiably concerned.

The Tactical Clash Over Formation & Philosophy

To illustrate, 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 trying to persuade Amorim to abandon his favored formation. Unsurprisingly, these entreaties faced pushback. But perhaps such directives hold greater authority when delivered from the mouth of a man the impeccable football pedigree of Jason Wilcox, holder of three England caps and a role in a championship team from 31 years ago.

Maybe eventually he may be persuaded to explain his thought processes publicly. Perhaps at some point questions may arise regarding why the coach is departing with full compensation, without any compensation reduction clause in place. But Jason Wilcox speaks rarely in public, for excellent reasons. The true intellectuals of this sport – individuals such as him – function at a level exceeding our mundane comprehension. If he ever did speak, probably we would perceive would be ultrasonic blips and four-dimensional whirring. Wanting is not quite equivalent to being prepared to receive.

An Ultimate Power In the Throne

But of course, by focusing our attention on the sporting director we overlook the real power behind the modern United throne. The director is, in reality, merely executing the commands of his ultimate superior Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who privately has made very clear his desire for a back four. According to reports, Ratcliffe has also proposed deploying the forward as a right wing-back. The owner is eager for the club to embrace data science and metrics. According to ESPN, in an executive meeting soon after his minority ownership, he declared that the team's approach to football “will be determined by this group”.

Ultimately, Sir Jim is an expert in this technical footballing stuff, drawing from his background in industry and sailing. Above all he remains immensely wealthy, and as we all know, the rich are superior: more perceptive, sagacious, more tactically astute, fundamentally better. Who else could one trust to oversee a strategic plan of cost-cutting, the construction of a modern arena that looks a lot like an abstract design, the signing of Benjamin Sesko?

A Modern Football Hierarchy: Directors Over Coaches

This is a trend we are increasingly seeing at the elite levels football. For decades, clubs foolishly delegated big footballing decisions to low-level employees such as coaches, scouts – players themselves. Perhaps it was once possible for an up-and-coming, innovative manager with a philosophy and drive to go into an organization and see their vision through to completion. But how many companies have such individuals established? What number of mass redundancies have they overseen? Far preferable to place genuine authority where it rightly belongs: the executive class, the casually dressed executives, the individuals with the jaw-dropping professional resumes. It is wiser to determine the tactics in the boardroom and appoint a coach who will adapt their methods accordingly. If coaches were formerly chefs, they are now more like Deliveroo drivers: not creating the product, but still finally accountable if it arrives poorly or leaks out of the box.

In the meantime, a coach's role is increasingly not about crafting the philosophy and more about selling it: the front-facing representative on the front desk, the public face of an organisation they have minimal power 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 speaking out. Wilfried Nancy finds his reputation ruined whereas those individuals who appointed him live to blunder indefinitely.

The Neoliberal Football: Accountability for the Few

And possibly in a small way this represents neoliberalism at work: the elevation of a privileged elite who can never be wrong, whose choices are always sacrosanct, whose errors can invariably be resolved by sacking without explanation. Appoint the system coach only to fire them for playing excessively 3-4-3. Bring in the project manager and later bin them for requiring excessive time. And above all show gratitude; for your modest season ticket price rises, for the latest summer signings, for the fact that the grownups – regardless of their expertise – are in charge.