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Transpired Ruben Amorim was able to withstand defeat by lower-league opposition. Survive a decisive continental showpiece versus one of the worst Tottenham teams in living memory. He withstood losing at home against domestic rivals, a lowly league position, his rigid approach, laying waste to the team's most promising academy products, a poor winning percentage, labeling the squad the poorest in Manchester United history. Yet, there existed one adversary with whom Ruben Amorim would not be allowed to engage. You come at Jason Wilcox, you had better succeed.

Regrettably, like many a Premiership defender during Blackburn Rovers' championship campaign, the coach took on Jason Wilcox and seems to have missed. The most casual observer will notice the paradoxical situation: a coach who frequently berated at his players for failing in individual battles succumbing in the face of the white heat and animal charisma of one of England's top division's most feared football executives.

And frankly, this entire bruising episode seems to paint the director in a whole new light. Perhaps it might have been tempting, given his brief stint of experience at Southampton, to view him as little more than a functionary in the United exoskeleton: a man who owed his position as much to his close relationship with ex-colleague Omar Berrada as any verifiable talent. How wrong everyone was. In brilliantly outmanoeuvring United’s feted head coach, as he outmanoeuvred the hapless Dan Ashworth earlier, Jason Wilcox has proved himself as one of the sport’s strategic masterminds: a tactical intellect of which the club's competitors will now be justifiably concerned.

A Tactical Clash Regarding System and Ideology

To illustrate, it was the director , after being involved in the hierarchy that hired the rigid 3-4-3 advocate the coach in the first place, was instrumental in trying to persuade Amorim to ditch his beloved formation. Unsurprisingly, these entreaties were resisted. 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 contributor to a championship team decades past.

Perhaps in time Jason Wilcox may be persuaded to explain his thought processes to the rest of us. Perhaps at some point he might be asked why Amorim is departing with full compensation, without any compensation reduction clause activated. The director seldom speaks publicly, and with very good reason. The real thinkers of this sport – men like him – simply operate on a plane exceeding our prosaic understanding. If he ever did speak, most likely we would perceive would be high-frequency signals and four-dimensional whirring. Desiring an explanation is not equivalent to being ready to receive.

An Ultimate Power Behind Command

But of course, by focusing our attention 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 line manager the billionaire owner, who privately has emphasized his preference for a back four. It is reported, the owner has also suggested deploying the forward in a wing-back role. Ratcliffe is keen for United to adopt analytics and analytics. According to ESPN, during a leadership summit early in his minority ownership, he announced that the team's approach to football “will be decided by this group”.

Ultimately, Ratcliffe is a specialist in this technical football matters, drawing from his previous experience in industry and yachting. Most importantly he remains immensely wealthy, and it is known, the rich are superior: more perceptive, more wise, more tactically astute, simply better. Who else would you trust to oversee a strategic plan of cost-cutting, the construction of a new stadium that appears a lot like someone’s leftover knitting, the acquisition of Benjamin Sesko?

A Modern Soccer Hierarchy: Directors Above Managers

This represents a shift that is becoming prevalent at the elite levels of the game. For decades, clubs foolishly entrusted major sporting choices to low-level employees like managers, scouts – even footballers. Perhaps it was once feasible for a young, innovative manager with ideas and drive to go into an organization and see their vision supported to fruition. But how many companies have such individuals established? How many large-scale layoffs have they overseen? Better by far to place genuine authority where it belongs: the leadership tier, the open-necked shirt brigade, the guys with the jaw-dropping LinkedIn profiles. Better by far to decide the strategy in the boardroom and appoint someone who can tailor their offering accordingly. If coaches were formerly chefs, they are now more akin to Deliveroo drivers: not creating the product, but still ultimately answerable if it arrives poorly or leaks out to meet standards.

Nowadays, a coach's role has become less about crafting the philosophy and more about selling it: the receptionist of the operation, the visible figurehead of an organisation they can do little to change. Enzo Maresca takes a squad of literal children into the Champions League and secures two medium-sized trophies, and effectively gets sacked for talking. A manager at Celtic finds his reputation ruined while those individuals who appointed him continue to make errors indefinitely.

A Modern Corporate Football: Accountability Only for the Few

And perhaps in a small way this is simply neoliberalism in action: the elevation of a privileged elite who are infallible, whose decisions are always untouchable, whose errors can invariably be sacked away without justification. Hire the 3-4-3 coach and then fire them for using excessively 3-4-3. Bring in the project manager and then discard them for taking too long. And most importantly show gratitude; for your modest increases in ticket costs, for your new summer signings, for the fact that the grownups – however well qualified – remain in control.