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Turns out Ruben Amorim was able to withstand losing against Grimsby. Survive losing a crucial continental showpiece against one of the worst Tottenham teams in living memory. He could survive home defeats to West Ham and Wolves, a lowly league position, an unwavering system, undermining some of the club’s most promising homegrown talent, a poor winning percentage, calling his team the poorest in Manchester United history. Yet, there existed one adversary against whom the Portuguese coach would not be allowed to tango. If you challenge Jason Wilcox, you had better succeed.

Regrettably, similar to numerous top-flight right-back in Blackburn’s championship 1994-95 season, Amorim took on the executive and appears to have missed. The most casual observer will notice the irony here: a manager who frequently berated his squad for failing in individual battles crumbling when confronted by the white heat and animal charisma of a England's top division's most intimidating football executives.

In truth, this entire bruising episode seems to paint Jason Wilcox in a different perspective. Perhaps it might have been easy, given his brief stint in a similar role with the Saints, to view Jason Wilcox as little more than a drudge within the club's structure: a man whose appointment was due largely to his close relationship with his former boss Omar Berrada as any demonstrable skill. How mistaken everyone was. In brilliantly outsmarting United’s feted manager, just as he bested the hapless Dan Ashworth before him, he has demonstrated as one of the sport’s strategic masterminds: a tactical intellect that United’s competitors will now be justifiably concerned.

A Tactical Clash Over Formation and Ideology

For example, it was Jason Wilcox who being involved in the leadership that appointed the rigid 3-4-3 advocate Amorim in the first place, was instrumental in attempting to convince him to abandon his beloved 3-4-3. Unsurprisingly, these pleas met a certain resistance. However, such directives hold greater authority when delivered from the mouth with the unimpeachable football pedigree he possesses, holder of international appearances and a contributor to a title-winning side decades past.

Perhaps in time Jason Wilcox might agree to outline his reasoning publicly. Perhaps at some point he might be asked why Amorim is walking away with a full payout, with no penalty clause activated. But Jason Wilcox speaks rarely in public, and with very good reason. The real thinkers in football – individuals such as him – function on a plane beyond our own prosaic understanding. Were he to speak, probably we would perceive is a series of ultrasonic blips and complex calculations. Wanting is not quite the same as being ready to receive.

The Ultimate Power In Command

But of course, in training our focus on Jason Wilcox we are obscuring the real power behind the club's current leadership. The director is, after all, merely executing the commands of his ultimate line manager the billionaire owner, who privately has made very clear his preference for a four-man defense. According to reports, the owner has also suggested playing Bryan Mbeumo as a right wing-back. The owner is eager for United to adopt analytics and analytics. According to ESPN, during a leadership summit soon after his minority ownership, he announced that United’s style of play “will be decided by this group”.

Ultimately, Sir Jim is an expert in these intricate football matters, leveraging his background in petrochemicals and yachting. Most importantly he is incredibly rich, and it is known, the rich are the best of us: more insightful, sagacious, more tactically astute, simply better. Who else could one trust to oversee an enlightened programme of austerity, the construction of a new stadium that appears a lot like an abstract design, the signing of a new striker?

A Modern Soccer Order: Directors Above Managers

This represents a shift that is becoming prevalent at the elite levels football. Historically, teams mistakenly entrusted big footballing decisions to subordinate staff like managers, scouts – even footballers. Perhaps it was once feasible for a young, innovative manager with a philosophy and energy to go into a club and implement their plan supported to fruition. But how many businesses have such individuals established? How many mass redundancies have they managed? Far preferable to invest genuine authority where it rightly belongs: the leadership tier, the open-necked shirt brigade, the guys with impressive professional resumes. It is wiser to decide the strategy in the boardroom and appoint someone who will adapt their offering accordingly. If coaches were once chefs, they have become more akin to delivery personnel: not really creating the food, but still finally accountable if it arrives cold or leaks out of the box.

In the meantime, a coach's role has become less about crafting the philosophy and more about selling it: the receptionist on the front desk, the public face for a club they have minimal power to influence. A coach at Chelsea leads a team of literal children into Europe and wins domestic cups, and essentially gets sacked for speaking out. A manager at Celtic sees his reputation ruined while the people who hired him continue to make errors another day.

A Neoliberal Game: Accountability for the Few

And possibly on some microcosmic level this represents corporate governance in action: the elevation of a privileged overclass who are infallible, whose choices are always sacrosanct, whose errors can always be resolved by sacking without explanation. Appoint the system coach only to dismiss them for using excessively that system. Bring in the process guy and later bin him for requiring excessive time. And above all be grateful; for the incremental increases in ticket costs, for the latest player acquisitions, for the fact that the adults – however well qualified – are in charge.