🔗 Share this article

Iturns out Ruben Amorim could survive losing against Grimsby. He weathered a decisive European final versus one of the worst Spurs sides for many years. He withstood losing at home against West Ham and Wolves, a lowly league position, an unwavering system, laying waste to some of the club’s best homegrown talent, the 32% win rate, labeling his team the poorest in Manchester United history. Yet, there existed a single opponent against whom Ruben Amorim was not permitted to tango. You come at the sporting director, and you best not miss.

Unfortunately, similar to numerous Premiership defender in Blackburn’s title-winning 1994-95 season, Amorim came at Jason Wilcox and seems to have missed. The most casual observer can see the irony here: a manager who frequently berated at his players for losing individual battles crumbling in the face of the intense pressure and formidable presence of a the Premier League’s most feared football executives.

And frankly, this entire bruising episode appears to portray the director in a different perspective. Perhaps it might have been tempting, based on his brief stint in a similar role at Southampton, to regard him as little more than a drudge within the club's structure: an individual who owed his position largely to his close relationship with his former boss Omar Berrada as any verifiable talent. How mistaken everyone was. In brilliantly outmanoeuvring United’s feted manager, just as he bested the unfortunate Dan Ashworth before him, he has proved himself to be among football's true generals: a strategic mind of which the club's competitors are now rightly wary.

The Tactical Clash Regarding System & Ideology

For example, this was the director , after having been part of the leadership that appointed the 3-4-3 fundamentalist the coach in the first place, played a key role in attempting to convince him to abandon his beloved 3-4-3. Unsurprisingly, these pleas met a certain resistance. But perhaps such directives carry more weight when delivered by a man of a man the unimpeachable football pedigree he possesses, holder of international appearances and a contributor to a title-winning side from 31 years ago.

Maybe eventually Jason Wilcox might agree to outline his thought processes publicly. Perhaps at some point he might be asked regarding why the coach is departing with a full payout, with no compensation reduction clause in place. But Jason Wilcox speaks rarely publicly, for excellent reasons. The true intellectuals of this sport – men like him – simply operate 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. Desiring an explanation is not equivalent to being ready to receive.

An Ultimate Power In Command

But of course, in training our focus on Jason Wilcox we overlook the real power behind the modern United throne. Jason Wilcox is, in reality, simply carrying out the directives of his line manager Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who in private has emphasized his preference for a four-man defense. According to reports, Ratcliffe has also suggested deploying the forward in a wing-back role. Ratcliffe is keen for the club to adopt data science and metrics. According to ESPN, in an executive meeting early in his investment, he declared that United’s style to football “will be determined by this group”.

After all, Sir Jim is an expert in this technical football matters, drawing from his previous experience in industry and yachting. Above all he remains incredibly rich, and it is known, the rich are superior: more perceptive, more wise, strategically brilliant, fundamentally better. Who else could one trust to manage a strategic plan of cost-cutting, the construction of a new stadium that appears similar to someone’s leftover knitting, the signing of a new striker?

A New Soccer Order: Directors Above Managers

This represents a shift that is becoming prevalent in top-tier football. Historically, clubs foolishly entrusted major sporting choices to low-level employees like managers, talent spotters – even footballers. Perhaps it was once feasible for an up-and-coming, innovative manager with ideas and energy to go into a club and see their vision supported to fruition. Yet how many businesses have such individuals set up? What number of mass redundancies have they managed? Far preferable to invest genuine authority where it belongs: the executive class, the open-necked shirt brigade, the guys with the jaw-dropping LinkedIn profiles. It is wiser to determine the strategy by the directors and appoint someone who can tailor their methods accordingly. If coaches were once chefs, they are now more akin to delivery personnel: not really responsible for the product, yet finally accountable should it be delivered cold or leaks out to meet standards.

Nowadays, a coach's role has become not about defining the vision and more about selling it: the receptionist on the front desk, the visible figurehead for a club they have minimal power to change. A coach at Chelsea leads a team of very young players into Europe and wins two medium-sized trophies, and effectively gets sacked for talking. Wilfried Nancy sees his reputation ruined while the people who hired him continue to make errors another day.

The Neoliberal Game: Responsibility for the Coaches

And perhaps in a small way this is simply neoliberalism in action: the rise of a gilded overclass who are infallible, whose decisions remain untouchable, whose errors can invariably be sacked away without justification. Hire the 3-4-3 coach and then fire him for playing excessively 3-4-3. Hire the project manager and then discard him for requiring excessive time. And above all be grateful; for your modest season ticket price rises, for your new player acquisitions, for the fact that the grownups – regardless of their expertise – are in charge.