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Turns out Ruben Amorim was able to withstand a loss to lower-league opposition. Survive losing a crucial continental showpiece against one of the worst Spurs sides for many years. He could survive losing at home to West Ham and Wolves, a lowly league position, the tactical inflexibility, squandering some of the club’s best academy products, the 32% win rate, labeling his team the worst the club has ever seen. But there was a single opponent against whom the Portuguese coach was not permitted to dance. If you challenge the sporting director, you had better succeed.

Unfortunately, similar to numerous top-flight defender during Blackburn Rovers' championship 1994-95 season, the coach came at the executive and seems to have missed. Even the most distracted of readers will notice the paradoxical situation: a coach who often railed his squad for failing in individual battles succumbing in the face of the intense pressure and formidable presence 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 whole new light. Perhaps it might have been easy, given his brief stint of experience with the Saints, to view him as little more than a functionary within the club's structure: an individual whose appointment was due largely to his friendship with his former boss a fellow executive rather than any verifiable talent. How mistaken we all were. By masterfully outsmarting the club's celebrated manager, as he outmanoeuvred the unfortunate Dan Ashworth before him, he has demonstrated as one of the sport’s strategic masterminds: a tactical intellect that the club's competitors will now be rightly wary.

The Tactical Clash Regarding System and Ideology

For example, this was the director , after having been part of the leadership that appointed the rigid 3-4-3 advocate Amorim originally, played a key role in attempting to convince Amorim to abandon his beloved 3-4-3. Naturally, these entreaties met a certain resistance. But perhaps such directives hold greater authority when issued from the mouth of a man the unimpeachable football pedigree of Jason Wilcox, holder of international appearances and a role in a championship team from 31 years ago.

Perhaps in time Jason Wilcox may be persuaded to outline his reasoning publicly. Perhaps at some point questions may arise why Amorim is departing with full compensation, without any compensation reduction clause in place. But Jason Wilcox speaks rarely publicly, for excellent reasons. The true intellectuals in football – men like him – function on a plane beyond our own mundane comprehension. Were he to speak, most likely we would perceive is a series of ultrasonic blips and complex calculations. Wanting is not the same as being prepared to receive.

An Ultimate Authority In Command

But of course, in training our focus on Jason Wilcox we are obscuring the true genius behind the modern United throne. The director is, after all, simply carrying out the commands of his line manager Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who in private has made very clear his preference for a four-man defense. According to reports, Ratcliffe has also suggested deploying the forward in a wing-back role. The owner is eager for United to embrace 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, leveraging his background in industry and sailing. Most importantly he is incredibly rich, and it is known, the wealthy are the best of us: more perceptive, more wise, more tactically astute, fundamentally better. Who else would you trust to oversee an enlightened programme of austerity, the building of a new stadium that appears similar to someone’s leftover knitting, the signing of a new striker?

The Modern Soccer Hierarchy: Executives Over Coaches

This represents a shift that is becoming prevalent in top-tier football. For decades, clubs foolishly delegated big footballing decisions to subordinate staff such as coaches, talent spotters – players themselves. Perhaps it was once possible for an up-and-coming, visionary coach with a philosophy and drive to join an organization and implement their plan through to completion. Yet how many businesses have these guys set up? How many large-scale layoffs have they managed? Better by far to invest the real power where it rightly belongs: the leadership tier, the casually dressed executives, the individuals with impressive LinkedIn profiles. Better by far to decide the tactics by the directors and hire a coach who can tailor their offering to suit. If coaches were formerly chefs, they have become more akin to delivery personnel: not responsible for the food, yet ultimately answerable if it arrives cold or leaks out to meet standards.

In the meantime, a coach's role has become not about crafting the philosophy and more about selling 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 finds his standing damaged whereas the people who appointed him live to blunder indefinitely.

The Neoliberal Football: Responsibility for the Coaches

And possibly on some microcosmic level this represents neoliberalism at work: the rise of a gilded elite who are infallible, whose choices are always sacrosanct, whose errors can invariably be sacked away without justification. Appoint the 3-4-3 coach only to dismiss them for using excessively 3-4-3. Hire the process guy and then discard them for requiring too long. And above all be grateful; for the incremental increases in ticket costs, for your new player acquisitions, for the fact that the adults – however well qualified – remain in control.