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Tbecame clear Ruben Amorim could survive a loss to Grimsby. Survive losing a crucial continental showpiece versus one of the worst Tottenham teams in living memory. He could survive losing at home against West Ham and Wolves, a lowly league position, an unwavering system, laying waste to some of the club’s best homegrown talent, the 32% win rate, calling the squad the poorest the club has ever seen. Yet, there existed a single opponent against whom Ruben Amorim would not be allowed to dance. You come at the sporting director, and you best not miss.

Regrettably, like many a top-flight right-back in Blackburn’s championship campaign, the coach took on Jason Wilcox and seems to have failed. The most distracted of readers will notice the paradoxical situation: a manager who frequently berated at his players for losing one-on-one duels crumbling in the face of the intense pressure and animal charisma of a England's top division's most intimidating sporting directors.

And frankly, this entire bruising episode appears to portray the director in a different perspective. Perhaps it might have been easy, given his nine months of experience at Southampton, to view Jason Wilcox as merely a functionary in the United exoskeleton: an individual who owed his position as much to his close relationship with his former boss Omar Berrada as any verifiable talent. How wrong everyone was. In brilliantly outmanoeuvring the club's celebrated manager, just as he bested the hapless a previous executive earlier, Jason Wilcox has proved himself to be among the sport’s true generals: a tactical intellect of which the club's mid-table rivals are now justifiably concerned.

The Tactical Clash Over Formation and Ideology

For example, this was the director who having been part of the leadership that hired the rigid 3-4-3 advocate Amorim in the first place, was instrumental in attempting to convince Amorim to ditch his favored formation. Naturally, these entreaties faced pushback. But perhaps such directives hold greater authority when issued by a man with the unimpeachable soccer background of Jason Wilcox, holder of three England caps and a contributor to a championship team from 31 years ago.

Perhaps in time he may be persuaded to explain his thought processes publicly. Maybe one day he might be asked regarding why the coach is departing with full compensation, with no penalty clause in place. But Jason Wilcox speaks rarely publicly, for excellent reasons. The true intellectuals in football – men like Jason Wilcox – simply operate at a level exceeding our prosaic understanding. Were he to speak, probably all we would hear is a series of ultrasonic blips and four-dimensional whirring. Wanting is not quite the same as being prepared to receive.

An Supreme Power In Command

Naturally, by focusing our attention on Jason Wilcox we overlook the true genius behind the club's current leadership. Jason Wilcox is, in reality, merely executing the commands of his ultimate superior Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who in private has emphasized his desire for a four-man defense. According to reports, Ratcliffe has also proposed deploying the forward as a right wing-back. The owner is eager for the club to adopt data science and analytics. Per reports, during a leadership summit soon after his minority ownership, he declared that United’s style of play “will be decided by this group”.

After all, Sir Jim is a specialist in these intricate football matters, drawing from his background in petrochemicals and sailing. Most importantly he remains incredibly rich, and as we all know, the wealthy are the best of us: more perceptive, more wise, more tactically astute, simply superior. Whom else would you trust to oversee an enlightened programme of cost-cutting, the construction of a new stadium that looks similar to an abstract design, the signing of Benjamin Sesko?

A New Football Hierarchy: Directors Over Coaches

This is a trend we are increasingly seeing in top-tier football. Historically, teams mistakenly entrusted big footballing decisions to subordinate staff such as coaches, talent spotters – even footballers. Maybe previously possible for an up-and-coming, visionary coach with ideas and drive to join a club and see their vision through to completion. But how many companies have these guys set up? What number of mass redundancies have they overseen? Far preferable to place the real power where it rightly belongs: the executive class, the casually dressed executives, the individuals with impressive LinkedIn profiles. It is wiser to determine the tactics by the directors and appoint a coach who will adapt their methods to suit. If coaches were once chefs, they are now more akin to delivery personnel: not creating the product, yet ultimately answerable if it arrives cold or fails to meet standards.

In the meantime, a coach's role is increasingly not about crafting the philosophy and more about selling it: the receptionist of the operation, the visible figurehead for a club they have minimal power to change. Enzo Maresca takes a squad of literal children into Europe and secures domestic cups, and essentially gets sacked for talking. Wilfried Nancy sees his reputation ruined while those individuals who appointed him continue to make errors indefinitely.

The Neoliberal Football: Responsibility Only for the Few

And possibly in a small way this is simply corporate governance at work: the elevation of a privileged overclass who are infallible, whose choices are always untouchable, whose errors can invariably be sacked away without justification. Hire the system coach and then fire him for using excessively that system. Hire the process guy and then bin them for taking excessive time. And above all show gratitude; for your modest increases in ticket costs, for the latest player acquisitions, for the fact that the grownups – regardless of their expertise – are in charge.