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Transpired Ruben Amorim endured defeat by lower-league opposition. Survive a decisive continental showpiece versus a particularly poor Tottenham teams for many years. He could survive losing at home to West Ham and Wolves, a lowly league position, an unwavering system, squandering some of the club’s best academy products, a poor winning percentage, calling his team the worst in Manchester United history. Yet, there existed a single opponent against whom Ruben Amorim would not be allowed to tango. If you challenge Jason Wilcox, and you best not miss.

Regrettably, similar to numerous top-flight defender in Blackburn’s title-winning campaign, the coach came at the executive and appears to have missed. The most casual observer can see the paradoxical situation: a coach who frequently berated his squad for losing individual battles succumbing in the face of the white heat and formidable presence of one of England's top division's most intimidating football executives.

And frankly, this whole painful saga seems to paint the director in a whole new light. It may have been tempting, based on his brief stint in a similar role with the Saints, to view Jason Wilcox as merely a drudge in the United exoskeleton: an individual whose appointment was due as much to his close relationship 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 a previous executive before him, he has demonstrated as one of the sport’s strategic masterminds: a tactical intellect of which the club's mid-table rivals will now be rightly wary.

A Strategic Conflict Over Formation and Philosophy

For example, this was the director , after having been part of the leadership that appointed the 3-4-3 fundamentalist the coach originally, played a key role in attempting to convince Amorim to ditch his beloved formation. Unsurprisingly, these entreaties faced pushback. But perhaps these judgements hold greater authority when delivered 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 he may be persuaded to explain his thought processes to the rest of us. Perhaps at some point he might be asked regarding why the coach is walking away with full compensation, without any compensation reduction clause in place. The director seldom speaks publicly, 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 all we would hear would be high-frequency signals and four-dimensional whirring. Desiring an explanation is not quite equivalent to being prepared to comprehend it.

The Supreme Power In Command

But of course, by focusing our attention on Jason Wilcox we are obscuring the real power behind the club's current leadership. The director is, after all, simply carrying out the commands of his line manager Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who in private has emphasized his desire for a four-man defense. According to reports, the owner has also proposed deploying the forward as a right wing-back. The owner is eager for the club to adopt analytics and analytics. According to ESPN, in an executive meeting soon after his investment, he declared that the team's approach of play “will be determined in this room”.

Ultimately, Ratcliffe is an expert in this technical footballing stuff, leveraging his background in petrochemicals and sailing. Most importantly he remains immensely wealthy, and it is known, the wealthy are the best of us: more insightful, sagacious, strategically brilliant, fundamentally better. Whom else could one trust to manage an enlightened programme of cost-cutting, the construction of a modern arena that appears similar to an abstract design, the acquisition of Benjamin Sesko?

A New Football Hierarchy: Directors Above Coaches

This represents a shift that is becoming prevalent in top-tier of the game. For decades, clubs foolishly entrusted major sporting choices to low-level employees like managers, talent spotters – players themselves. Maybe previously feasible for a young, innovative manager with a philosophy and energy to join an organization and see their vision through to completion. Yet how many companies have such individuals set up? What number of large-scale layoffs have they managed? Better by far to place the real power where it belongs: the leadership tier, the casually dressed executives, the guys with impressive professional resumes. It is wiser to decide the tactics by the directors and appoint a coach who can tailor their offering to suit. If coaches were formerly chefs, they have become more like Deliveroo drivers: not creating the food, yet ultimately answerable should it be delivered poorly or leaks out of the box.

In the meantime, a coach's role has become not about crafting the philosophy and more about marketing it: the receptionist on the front desk, the visible figurehead of an organisation they have minimal power to change. Enzo Maresca leads a team of literal children into Europe and wins domestic cups, and essentially gets sacked for speaking out. Wilfried Nancy sees his reputation ruined while the people who hired him continue to make errors indefinitely.

A Neoliberal Football: Accountability Only for the Coaches

And perhaps on some microcosmic level this is simply corporate governance in action: the elevation of a privileged elite who are infallible, whose decisions remain untouchable, whose mistakes can always be sacked away without explanation. Appoint the system coach only to dismiss him for using excessively that system. Hire the process guy and later bin him for taking excessive time. And above all show gratitude; for the incremental season ticket price rises, for the latest player acquisitions, for the fact that the grownups – however well qualified – remain in control.