🔗 Share this article

Iturns out Ruben Amorim could survive a loss to Grimsby. He weathered an important continental showpiece versus one of the worst Tottenham teams for many years. He could survive home defeats to West Ham and Wolves, a lowly league position, his rigid approach, laying waste to the team's best academy products, a poor winning percentage, labeling his team the worst the club has ever seen. Yet, there existed a single opponent against whom the Portuguese coach was not permitted to dance. You come at Jason Wilcox, you had better succeed.

Regrettably, similar to numerous top-flight defender in Blackburn’s championship 1994-95 season, Amorim came at the executive and appears to have missed. The most casual observer will notice the paradoxical situation: a manager who frequently berated at his players for failing in individual battles succumbing when confronted by the white heat and animal charisma of one of the Premier League’s most intimidating sporting directors.

In truth, this whole bruising episode seems to paint Jason Wilcox in a whole new light. It may have been tempting, based on his brief stint in a similar role at Southampton, to regard him as little more than a drudge in the United exoskeleton: an individual whose appointment was due largely to his friendship with ex-colleague Omar Berrada rather than any demonstrable skill. How mistaken everyone was. In brilliantly outmanoeuvring the club's celebrated head coach, just as he bested the hapless Dan Ashworth before him, he has proved himself to be among the sport’s strategic masterminds: a tactical intellect of which United’s competitors will now be rightly wary.

A Tactical Clash Over Formation & Philosophy

For example, it was Jason Wilcox who being involved in the leadership that appointed the rigid 3-4-3 advocate the coach in the first place, was instrumental in attempting to convince him to ditch his beloved 3-4-3. Naturally, these entreaties met a certain resistance. But perhaps such directives hold greater authority when delivered from the mouth of a man the impeccable soccer background he possesses, holder of three England caps and a contributor to a title-winning side from 31 years ago.

Perhaps in time Jason Wilcox may be persuaded to outline his thought processes to the rest of us. Maybe one day he might be asked regarding why the coach is departing with full compensation, with no compensation reduction clause in place. But Jason Wilcox seldom speaks publicly, for excellent reasons. The true intellectuals in football – individuals such as Jason Wilcox – function at a level exceeding our mundane comprehension. Were he to speak, most likely we would perceive is a series of ultrasonic blips and complex calculations. Wanting is not quite equivalent to being ready to receive.

The Supreme Power In Command

Naturally, in training our focus on the sporting director we are obscuring the real power behind the club's current leadership. The director is, in reality, merely executing the directives of his superior Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who in private has emphasized his desire for a four-man defense. It is reported, Ratcliffe has also suggested deploying the forward in a wing-back role. Ratcliffe is keen for United to embrace data science and metrics. Per reports, during a leadership summit early in his minority ownership, he announced that United’s style to football “shall be decided in this room”.

After all, Ratcliffe is a specialist in these intricate footballing stuff, leveraging his background in petrochemicals and yachting. Above all he remains incredibly rich, and it is known, the rich are superior: more insightful, more wise, more tactically astute, fundamentally superior. Who else could one trust to manage an enlightened programme of austerity, the construction of a new stadium that appears similar to an abstract design, the acquisition of a new striker?

The New Soccer Hierarchy: Directors Over Coaches

This represents a shift we are increasingly seeing at the elite levels football. Historically, clubs foolishly entrusted big footballing decisions to subordinate staff like managers, scouts – players themselves. Perhaps it was once possible for a young, innovative manager with a philosophy and drive to join a club and see their vision supported to fruition. But how many companies have such individuals set up? What number of mass redundancies have they managed? Far preferable to place genuine authority where it rightly belongs: the leadership tier, the casually dressed executives, the individuals with the jaw-dropping professional resumes. Better by far to determine the strategy in the boardroom and hire a coach who will adapt their methods to suit. If coaches were once chefs, they have become more like delivery personnel: not responsible for the food, yet ultimately answerable should it be delivered cold or leaks out to meet standards.

Nowadays, their job has become less about defining the vision and more about marketing it: the front-facing representative on the front desk, the public face for a club they can do little to influence. A coach at Chelsea takes a squad of literal children into Europe and secures domestic cups, and essentially is dismissed for speaking out. A manager at Celtic sees his reputation ruined while the people who hired him live to blunder another day.

A Neoliberal Game: Accountability for the Few

And possibly in a small way this represents corporate governance in action: the rise of a gilded overclass who are infallible, whose choices are always untouchable, whose mistakes can always be resolved by sacking without justification. Hire the system coach only to fire them for using too much 3-4-3. Hire the project manager and then bin him for requiring too long. And above all show gratitude; for the incremental season ticket price rises, for the latest summer signings, for the fact that the adults – regardless of their expertise – remain in control.