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Tbecame clear Ruben Amorim could survive a loss to Grimsby. He weathered losing a crucial European final versus a particularly poor Spurs sides in living memory. He withstood home defeats against West Ham and Wolves, a lowly league position, an unwavering system, laying waste to the team's best academy products, a poor winning percentage, calling the squad the poorest the club has ever seen. But there was a single opponent with whom the Portuguese coach was not permitted to tango. You come at the sporting director, you had better succeed.

Regrettably, similar to numerous top-flight defender in Blackburn’s championship 1994-95 season, Amorim came at the executive and appears to have failed. Even the most casual observer will notice the paradoxical situation: a coach who frequently berated his squad for failing in individual battles crumbling when confronted by the intense pressure and animal charisma of a the Premier League’s most intimidating football executives.

In truth, this whole painful saga seems to paint the director in a different perspective. It may have been easy, based on his nine months of experience at Southampton, to regard him as little more than a drudge in the United exoskeleton: a man who owed his position largely 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 head coach, as he outmanoeuvred the hapless a previous executive earlier, Jason Wilcox has proved himself to be among the sport’s strategic masterminds: a tactical intellect of which the club's mid-table rivals will now be rightly wary.

A Tactical Clash Over System and Philosophy

To illustrate, it was the director , after being involved in the leadership that hired the rigid 3-4-3 advocate the coach in the first place, was instrumental in attempting to convince Amorim to ditch his beloved 3-4-3. Naturally, these pleas faced pushback. However, these judgements hold greater authority when issued from the mouth of a man the impeccable soccer background of Jason Wilcox, holder of three England caps and a role in a title-winning side from 31 years ago.

Perhaps in time he may be persuaded to explain his reasoning publicly. Perhaps at some point questions may arise regarding why the coach is walking away with a full payout, without any compensation reduction clause activated. The director speaks rarely in public, and with very good reason. The real thinkers of this sport – men like him – function on a plane beyond our own prosaic understanding. Were he to speak, probably all we would hear is a series of high-frequency signals and complex calculations. Wanting is not quite equivalent to being prepared to receive.

The Ultimate Power In the Throne

Naturally, by focusing our attention on Jason Wilcox we overlook the true genius behind the modern United throne. Jason Wilcox is, after all, merely executing the directives of his ultimate line manager Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who in private has made very clear his preference for a four-man defense. It is reported, the owner has also suggested deploying the forward in a wing-back role. Ratcliffe is keen for the club to adopt analytics and analytics. According to ESPN, during a leadership summit soon after his minority ownership, he declared that the team's approach of play “will be decided in this room”.

After all, Ratcliffe is a specialist in these intricate footballing stuff, drawing from his previous experience in petrochemicals and yachting. Above all he remains incredibly rich, and it is known, the rich are the best of us: more perceptive, more wise, more tactically astute, simply 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 someone’s leftover knitting, the acquisition of Benjamin Sesko?

A New Football Hierarchy: Executives Over Coaches

This represents a shift that is becoming prevalent in top-tier of the game. For decades, teams mistakenly entrusted major sporting choices to low-level employees like managers, talent spotters – even footballers. Perhaps it was once possible for a young, visionary coach with ideas and energy to go into a club and see their vision supported to fruition. Yet how many businesses have such individuals set up? What number of large-scale layoffs have they overseen? Far preferable to invest the real power where it rightly belongs: the executive class, the casually dressed executives, the individuals with impressive professional resumes. Better by far to determine the tactics in the boardroom and hire a coach who can tailor their methods to suit. If managers were once chefs, they are now more akin to Deliveroo drivers: not really creating the product, but still finally accountable should it be delivered poorly or fails to meet standards.

Nowadays, their job has become not about defining the vision and more about selling it: the front-facing representative of the operation, the public face of an organisation they can do little to influence. A coach at Chelsea takes a squad of very young players into the Champions League and secures two medium-sized trophies, and essentially gets sacked for speaking out. A manager at Celtic finds his reputation ruined while the people who appointed him continue to make errors indefinitely.

A Neoliberal Game: Responsibility Only 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 remain sacrosanct, whose mistakes can invariably be sacked away without justification. Appoint the 3-4-3 coach and then dismiss him for playing excessively 3-4-3. Bring in the project manager and then bin them for taking 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 – however well qualified – remain in control.