🔗 Share this article

Itranspired Ruben Amorim was able to withstand defeat by Grimsby. Survive an important European final versus a particularly poor Tottenham teams for many years. He could survive losing at home against West Ham and Wolves, finishing 15th, his rigid approach, laying waste to some of the club’s most promising academy products, the 32% win rate, labeling the squad the worst the club has ever seen. Yet, there existed one adversary against whom the Portuguese coach would not be allowed to dance. If you challenge the sporting director, you had better succeed.

Regrettably, similar to numerous Premiership defender during Blackburn Rovers' title-winning campaign, the coach took on Jason Wilcox and seems to have missed. Even the most distracted of readers can see the irony here: a coach who frequently berated his squad for failing in one-on-one duels crumbling in the face of the white heat and animal charisma of one of the Premier League’s most intimidating football executives.

In truth, this whole bruising episode seems to paint Jason Wilcox in a whole new light. Perhaps it might have been tempting, given his nine months in a similar role with the Saints, to view him as little more than a functionary within the club's structure: an individual who owed his position as much to his close relationship with ex-colleague Omar Berrada rather than any verifiable talent. How mistaken everyone was. By masterfully outsmarting United’s feted head coach, just as he bested the hapless a previous executive earlier, he has proved himself as one of football's strategic masterminds: a tactical intellect of which the club's competitors are now justifiably concerned.

The Strategic Clash Over Formation and Ideology

To illustrate, it was the director , after being involved in the leadership that hired the 3-4-3 fundamentalist Amorim in the first place, played a key role in trying to persuade him to ditch his favored 3-4-3. Unsurprisingly, these pleas faced pushback. But perhaps these judgements hold greater authority when issued from the mouth with the unimpeachable soccer background of Jason Wilcox, holder of three England caps and a role in a title-winning side decades past.

Maybe eventually Jason Wilcox might agree to outline his reasoning to the rest of us. Perhaps at some point questions may arise why Amorim is departing with a full payout, with no compensation reduction clause activated. But Jason Wilcox seldom speaks publicly, and with very good reason. The true intellectuals in football – individuals such as him – function on a plane beyond our own prosaic understanding. Were he to speak, most likely we would perceive is a series of ultrasonic blips and four-dimensional whirring. Desiring an explanation is not quite the same as being ready to receive.

The Ultimate Authority Behind the Throne

Naturally, in training our focus on Jason Wilcox we overlook the real power behind the club's current leadership. The director is, after all, merely executing the commands of his line manager Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who privately has made very clear his preference for a four-man defense. It is reported, the owner has also proposed deploying the forward in a wing-back role. The owner is eager for the club to adopt data science and metrics. Per reports, in an executive meeting soon after his minority ownership, he announced that United’s style of play “shall be decided in this room”.

After all, Sir Jim is an expert in these intricate footballing stuff, leveraging his background in petrochemicals and yachting. Most importantly he remains incredibly rich, and as we all know, the wealthy are superior: more insightful, sagacious, strategically brilliant, simply superior. Who else would you trust to oversee an enlightened programme of cost-cutting, the building of a modern arena that looks a lot like someone’s leftover knitting, the signing of Benjamin Sesko?

The New Football Order: Executives Over Managers

This represents a shift we are increasingly seeing in top-tier of the game. Historically, clubs foolishly delegated major sporting choices to subordinate staff such as coaches, talent spotters – even footballers. Perhaps it was once feasible for a young, visionary coach with ideas and energy to go into a club and implement their plan supported to fruition. Yet how many companies have such individuals set up? How many large-scale layoffs have they managed? Far preferable to place the real power where it rightly belongs: the leadership tier, the open-necked shirt brigade, the individuals with the jaw-dropping LinkedIn profiles. It is wiser to determine the tactics in the boardroom and hire someone who will adapt their methods accordingly. If coaches were formerly chefs, they have become more akin to Deliveroo drivers: not creating the product, but still finally accountable if it arrives cold or leaks out to meet standards.

Nowadays, their job is increasingly less about defining the vision and more about selling it: the receptionist of the operation, the visible figurehead of an organisation they have minimal power to influence. A coach at Chelsea leads a team of very young players into Europe and secures domestic cups, and essentially is dismissed for speaking out. A manager at Celtic sees his standing damaged whereas those individuals who appointed him live to blunder another day.

A Modern Corporate Football: Accountability for the Few

And possibly on some microcosmic level this is simply neoliberalism in action: the elevation of a privileged overclass who can never be wrong, whose decisions are always sacrosanct, whose errors can always be resolved by sacking without explanation. Appoint the 3-4-3 coach and then fire him for using too much that system. Bring in the process guy and then bin them for taking excessive time. And above all be grateful; for the incremental season ticket price rises, for the latest player acquisitions, for the fact that the adults – regardless of their expertise – are in charge.