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Transpired Ruben Amorim endured defeat by Grimsby. Survive losing a crucial European final versus a particularly poor Tottenham teams for many years. He withstood losing at home to domestic rivals, finishing 15th, the tactical inflexibility, laying waste to the team's best homegrown talent, the 32% win rate, calling his team the poorest in Manchester United history. Yet, there existed one adversary against whom Ruben Amorim was not permitted to tango. You come at Jason Wilcox, and you best not miss.

Regrettably, similar to numerous top-flight right-back in Blackburn’s championship 1994-95 season, Amorim took on Jason Wilcox and seems to have failed. Even the most distracted of readers will notice the paradoxical situation: a manager who frequently berated at his players for failing in one-on-one duels crumbling when confronted by the white heat and animal charisma of one of England's top division's most intimidating sporting directors.

And frankly, this entire painful saga seems to paint the director in a whole new light. It may have been tempting, given his nine months of experience with the Saints, to regard him as merely a drudge within the club's structure: a man whose appointment was due largely to his friendship with his former boss a fellow executive rather than any verifiable talent. How wrong everyone was. In brilliantly outmanoeuvring the club's celebrated manager, just as he bested the hapless a previous executive before him, Jason Wilcox has proved himself as one of the sport’s strategic masterminds: a strategic mind that United’s competitors will now be justifiably concerned.

A Tactical Clash Over Formation and Ideology

For example, it was the director , after having been part of the hierarchy that appointed the 3-4-3 fundamentalist the coach originally, played a key role in trying to persuade Amorim to ditch his beloved formation. Unsurprisingly, these pleas met a certain resistance. But perhaps such directives carry more weight when delivered from the mouth of a man the unimpeachable soccer background he possesses, holder of three England caps and a contributor to a championship team from 31 years ago.

Perhaps in time Jason Wilcox may be persuaded to outline his reasoning to the rest of us. Perhaps at some point he might be asked why Amorim is departing with a full payout, with no compensation reduction clause in place. The director seldom speaks in public, for excellent reasons. The true intellectuals in football – men like him – simply operate on a plane beyond our own mundane comprehension. 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 prepared to comprehend it.

An Supreme Authority Behind Command

Naturally, by focusing our attention 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 superior Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who in private has made very clear his preference for a four-man defense. It is reported, the owner has also proposed deploying the forward as a right wing-back. The owner is eager 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 of play “will be determined in this room”.

After all, Ratcliffe is an expert in this technical footballing stuff, drawing from his previous experience in industry and sailing. Most importantly he remains immensely wealthy, and as we all know, the wealthy are superior: more insightful, more wise, more tactically astute, fundamentally better. Who else would you trust to oversee an enlightened programme of cost-cutting, the construction of a modern arena that looks similar to someone’s leftover knitting, the signing of a new striker?

A New Football Hierarchy: Executives Over Managers

This represents a shift that is becoming prevalent in top-tier football. For decades, teams mistakenly entrusted big footballing decisions to low-level employees such as coaches, talent spotters – players themselves. Perhaps it was once possible for a young, visionary coach with ideas and drive to join an organization and see their vision supported to fruition. Yet how many businesses have these guys set up? What number of mass redundancies have they overseen? Better by far to place genuine authority where it belongs: the executive class, the open-necked shirt brigade, the guys with the jaw-dropping professional resumes. It is wiser to decide the tactics in the boardroom and appoint someone who can tailor their methods accordingly. If coaches were formerly chefs, they have become more like delivery personnel: not really creating the food, yet finally accountable should it be delivered poorly or leaks out to meet standards.

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 visible figurehead of an organisation they can do little to change. A coach at Chelsea takes a squad of very young players into Europe and wins domestic cups, and essentially is dismissed for speaking out. Wilfried Nancy finds his reputation ruined whereas the people who appointed him live to blunder indefinitely.

The Modern Corporate Football: Accountability for the Coaches

And possibly on some microcosmic level this is simply neoliberalism in action: the elevation of a privileged elite who can never be wrong, whose decisions remain untouchable, whose mistakes can always be resolved by sacking without justification. Hire the system coach only to fire him for playing too much 3-4-3. Hire the project manager and then bin him for requiring excessive time. And most importantly be grateful; for the incremental season ticket price rises, for the latest summer signings, for the reality that the adults – regardless of their expertise – are in charge.