🔗 Share this article

Iturns out the manager endured a loss to lower-league opposition. He weathered losing a crucial continental showpiece 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 the team's most promising homegrown talent, a poor winning percentage, calling his team the poorest the club has ever seen. Yet, there existed one adversary with whom Ruben Amorim was not permitted to engage. You come at Jason Wilcox, and you best not miss.

Unfortunately, similar to numerous top-flight defender in Blackburn’s title-winning campaign, Amorim took on the executive and seems to have failed. Even the most distracted of readers can see the irony here: a coach who often railed his squad for failing in one-on-one duels crumbling in the face of the intense pressure and formidable presence of a England's top division's most feared sporting directors.

And frankly, this entire bruising episode seems to paint Jason Wilcox in a whole new light. Perhaps it might have been tempting, given his nine months of experience at Southampton, to regard him as little more than a functionary in the United exoskeleton: an individual whose appointment was due largely to his close relationship with his former boss a fellow executive as any demonstrable skill. How wrong everyone was. In brilliantly outmanoeuvring United’s feted manager, just as he bested the unfortunate Dan Ashworth before him, Jason Wilcox has proved himself to be among the sport’s strategic masterminds: a tactical intellect of which the club's competitors will now be rightly wary.

A Strategic Conflict Regarding System and Philosophy

For example, it was Jason Wilcox , after having been part of the hierarchy that appointed the rigid 3-4-3 advocate the coach in the first place, played a key role in attempting to convince him to ditch his beloved formation. Unsurprisingly, these pleas were resisted. However, these judgements carry more weight when delivered from the mouth with the impeccable soccer background he possesses, a veteran of three England caps and a contributor to a championship team decades past.

Perhaps in time Jason Wilcox may be persuaded to explain his reasoning publicly. Maybe one day questions may arise regarding why the coach is walking away with a full payout, without any penalty clause activated. The director seldom speaks publicly, and with very good reason. The true intellectuals in football – individuals such as Jason Wilcox – simply operate at a level exceeding our prosaic understanding. Were he to speak, most likely we would perceive is a series of high-frequency signals and complex calculations. Wanting is not equivalent to being ready to comprehend it.

The Supreme Authority In Command

But of course, by focusing our attention on the sporting director we are obscuring the true genius behind the modern United throne. The director is, in reality, simply carrying out the commands of his line manager Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who in private has made very clear his preference for a back four. According to reports, the owner has also suggested deploying the forward as a right wing-back. Ratcliffe is keen for United to adopt analytics and metrics. According to ESPN, in an executive meeting soon after his minority ownership, he declared that United’s style of play “shall be determined by this group”.

Ultimately, Ratcliffe is an expert in these intricate footballing stuff, leveraging his previous experience in petrochemicals and yachting. Above all he is incredibly rich, and as we all know, the wealthy are the best of us: more insightful, sagacious, strategically brilliant, simply superior. Whom else could one trust to manage an enlightened programme of austerity, the building of a new stadium that looks a lot like someone’s leftover knitting, the acquisition of a new striker?

A Modern Football Hierarchy: Directors Above Managers

This represents a shift that is becoming prevalent in top-tier of the game. Historically, clubs foolishly entrusted big footballing decisions to subordinate staff like managers, talent spotters – players themselves. Maybe previously feasible for an up-and-coming, innovative manager with ideas and drive to go into an organization and implement their plan through to completion. But how many businesses have these guys set up? How many mass redundancies have they managed? Better by far to place the real power where it belongs: the leadership tier, the open-necked shirt brigade, the guys with the jaw-dropping professional resumes. Better by far to decide the strategy in the boardroom and hire someone who will adapt their offering to suit. If coaches were formerly chefs, they are now more like delivery personnel: not creating the product, but still finally accountable if it arrives poorly or fails of the box.

Nowadays, a coach's role is increasingly less about defining the vision and more about selling it: the receptionist on the front desk, the public face for a club they can do little to change. Enzo Maresca takes a squad of very young players into Europe and wins two medium-sized trophies, and essentially gets sacked for speaking out. A manager at Celtic sees his standing damaged while the people who hired him continue to make errors indefinitely.

A Neoliberal Football: Responsibility Only for the Coaches

And perhaps in a small way this represents corporate governance in action: the rise of a privileged elite who can never be wrong, whose decisions are always untouchable, whose mistakes can invariably be resolved by sacking without justification. Hire the 3-4-3 coach only to fire them for using too much that system. Bring in the project manager and later bin them for taking too long. And above all be grateful; for the incremental increases in ticket costs, for your new summer signings, for the reality that the adults – however well qualified – are in charge.