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Tbecame clear the manager could survive losing against lower-league opposition. He weathered a decisive European final against one of the worst Spurs sides in living memory. He withstood home defeats against domestic rivals, finishing 15th, the tactical inflexibility, laying waste to the team's most promising academy products, a poor winning percentage, calling the squad the poorest in Manchester United history. But there was one adversary against whom Ruben Amorim would not be allowed to dance. You come at the sporting director, you had better succeed.

Regrettably, similar to numerous top-flight right-back in Blackburn’s title-winning 1994-95 season, Amorim took on the executive and seems to have missed. The most casual observer will notice the irony here: a manager who often railed his squad for failing in individual battles crumbling in the face of the intense pressure and formidable presence of a the Premier League’s most intimidating sporting directors.

And frankly, this whole bruising episode appears to portray the director in a different perspective. Perhaps it might have been easy, based on his nine months in a similar role at Southampton, to view Jason Wilcox as little more than a drudge within the club's structure: a man whose appointment was due largely to his friendship with ex-colleague Omar Berrada as any demonstrable skill. How wrong everyone was. By masterfully outmanoeuvring the club's celebrated head coach, as he outmanoeuvred the unfortunate a previous executive before him, Jason Wilcox has demonstrated as one of the sport’s strategic masterminds: a strategic mind of which the club's competitors will now be justifiably concerned.

A Strategic Conflict Over Formation and Ideology

To illustrate, it was Jason Wilcox who having been part of the leadership that appointed the rigid 3-4-3 advocate Amorim in the first place, played a key role in attempting to convince him to ditch his beloved formation. Naturally, these pleas were resisted. But perhaps such directives hold greater authority when issued by a man with the unimpeachable soccer background of Jason Wilcox, a veteran of international appearances and a contributor to a title-winning side decades past.

Perhaps in time Jason Wilcox might agree to outline his reasoning publicly. Perhaps at some point he might be asked regarding why the coach is departing with full compensation, without any penalty clause in place. But Jason Wilcox seldom speaks publicly, for excellent reasons. The real thinkers of this sport – individuals such as him – simply operate at a level beyond our own prosaic understanding. If he ever did speak, most likely all we would hear would be high-frequency signals and four-dimensional whirring. Desiring an explanation is not the same as being ready to receive.

An Ultimate Authority Behind Command

But of course, in training our focus on Jason Wilcox we overlook the true genius behind the modern United throne. Jason Wilcox is, after all, merely executing the commands of his ultimate line manager Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who privately has made very clear his preference for a four-man defense. According to reports, Ratcliffe has also proposed playing Bryan Mbeumo in a wing-back role. Ratcliffe is keen for the club to adopt analytics and analytics. Per reports, during a leadership summit early in his minority ownership, he announced that United’s style to football “will be determined in this room”.

Ultimately, Ratcliffe is an expert in this technical footballing stuff, leveraging his previous experience in petrochemicals and yachting. Above all he remains immensely wealthy, and as we all know, the rich are the best of us: more perceptive, more wise, more tactically astute, simply superior. Whom else could one trust to manage a strategic plan of cost-cutting, the construction of a modern arena that appears a lot like someone’s leftover knitting, the acquisition of a new striker?

The New Football Order: Executives Over Managers

This represents a shift that is becoming prevalent in top-tier football. For decades, clubs foolishly entrusted major sporting choices to subordinate staff like managers, scouts – players themselves. Maybe previously possible for a young, innovative manager with a philosophy and energy to go into a club and implement their plan through to completion. Yet how many companies have such individuals established? How many mass redundancies have they overseen? Better by far to invest the real power where it rightly belongs: the leadership tier, the open-necked shirt brigade, the individuals with the jaw-dropping LinkedIn profiles. Better by far to decide the tactics by the directors and hire a coach who can tailor their methods accordingly. If coaches were once chefs, they are now more akin to delivery personnel: not really creating the product, yet ultimately answerable should it be delivered poorly or leaks out to meet standards.

Nowadays, their job is increasingly not about defining the vision 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. Enzo Maresca takes a squad of very young players into Europe and wins domestic cups, and essentially gets sacked for speaking out. A manager at Celtic finds his reputation ruined while those individuals who appointed him live to blunder indefinitely.

The Neoliberal Football: Accountability for the Coaches

And perhaps in a small way this represents corporate governance in action: the rise of a gilded elite who can never be wrong, whose decisions remain sacrosanct, whose mistakes can invariably be resolved by sacking without justification. Hire the 3-4-3 coach only to fire them for playing too much 3-4-3. Hire the process guy and then discard him for taking too long. And most importantly be grateful; for the incremental increases in ticket costs, for the latest summer signings, for the fact that the grownups – however well qualified – are in charge.