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Itranspired Ruben Amorim endured defeat by Grimsby. Survive an important European final versus one of the worst Tottenham teams for many years. He could survive home defeats against West Ham and Wolves, finishing 15th, an unwavering system, undermining some of the club’s best academy products, the 32% win rate, labeling the squad the worst the club has ever seen. Yet, there existed a single opponent against whom Ruben Amorim was not permitted to engage. If you challenge Jason Wilcox, and you best not miss.

Regrettably, like many a top-flight right-back in Blackburn’s title-winning 1994-95 season, the coach came at the executive and seems 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 in the face of the intense pressure and animal charisma of one of England's top division's most feared football executives.

And frankly, this whole bruising episode seems to paint Jason Wilcox in a different perspective. Perhaps it might have been easy, based on his brief stint in a similar role with the Saints, to view him as merely a functionary in the United exoskeleton: an individual who owed his position as much to his friendship with his former boss Omar Berrada rather than any verifiable talent. How mistaken we all were. In brilliantly outmanoeuvring the club's celebrated head coach, just as he bested the unfortunate Dan Ashworth earlier, Jason Wilcox has proved himself as one of football's strategic masterminds: a tactical intellect that the club's mid-table rivals will now be rightly wary.

The Strategic Conflict Regarding System and Philosophy

For example, it was the director who having been part of the leadership that hired the 3-4-3 fundamentalist the coach originally, played a key role in attempting to convince Amorim to ditch his favored 3-4-3. Unsurprisingly, these entreaties faced pushback. But perhaps such directives carry more weight when delivered by a man with the impeccable football pedigree he possesses, a veteran of international appearances and a role in a championship team from 31 years ago.

Maybe eventually he may be persuaded to explain his thought processes to the rest of us. Perhaps at some point he might be asked why Amorim is walking away with full compensation, without any penalty clause in place. But Jason Wilcox speaks rarely in public, and with very good reason. The real thinkers of this sport – individuals such as Jason Wilcox – simply operate at a level exceeding our mundane comprehension. Were he to speak, probably we would perceive would be ultrasonic blips and complex calculations. Wanting is not quite the same as being ready to comprehend it.

An Ultimate Authority In the Throne

Naturally, in training our focus on the sporting director we are obscuring the real power behind the modern United throne. Jason Wilcox is, in reality, merely executing the directives of his ultimate superior the billionaire owner, who in private has emphasized his preference for a back four. According to reports, the owner has also suggested deploying the forward in a wing-back role. Ratcliffe is keen for the club to adopt analytics and metrics. According to ESPN, in an executive meeting early in his minority ownership, he announced that United’s style to football “shall be determined by this group”.

After all, Ratcliffe is a specialist in these intricate footballing stuff, drawing from his previous experience in industry and yachting. Above all he is incredibly rich, and as we all know, the wealthy are the best of us: more perceptive, more wise, strategically brilliant, simply better. Who else could one trust to manage an enlightened programme of austerity, the building of a new stadium that appears similar to an abstract design, the acquisition of a new striker?

A New Football Hierarchy: Executives Over Managers

This represents a shift we are increasingly seeing at the elite levels football. Historically, clubs foolishly entrusted major sporting choices to low-level employees such as coaches, scouts – even footballers. Perhaps it was once feasible for a young, innovative manager with a philosophy and drive to join a club and implement their plan through to completion. Yet how many companies have these guys set up? What number of large-scale layoffs have they managed? Better by far to invest the real power where it belongs: the leadership tier, the open-necked shirt brigade, the individuals with the jaw-dropping LinkedIn profiles. Better by far to decide the strategy in the boardroom and appoint a coach who can tailor their methods accordingly. If coaches were formerly chefs, they are now more like Deliveroo drivers: not responsible for the food, but still ultimately answerable should it be delivered cold or fails of the box.

Nowadays, their job is increasingly less about crafting the philosophy and more about selling it: the receptionist on the front desk, the public face for a club they can do little to influence. Enzo Maresca takes a squad of literal children into the Champions League and wins two medium-sized trophies, and effectively gets sacked for talking. A manager at Celtic finds his reputation ruined whereas the people who appointed him live to blunder another day.

A Neoliberal Football: Responsibility Only for the Few

And perhaps on some microcosmic level this represents corporate governance in action: the rise of a gilded elite who are infallible, whose choices remain untouchable, whose mistakes can invariably be sacked away without justification. Hire the 3-4-3 coach only to dismiss them for playing excessively 3-4-3. Hire the project manager and then bin them for taking too long. And most importantly be grateful; for the incremental increases in ticket costs, for your new summer signings, for the fact that the grownups – however well qualified – remain in control.