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Itranspired the manager endured losing against Grimsby. He weathered losing a crucial European final against a particularly poor Tottenham teams for many years. He withstood losing at home against West Ham and Wolves, a lowly league position, the tactical inflexibility, squandering the team's most promising academy products, the 32% win rate, calling the squad the poorest in Manchester United history. Yet, there existed one adversary with whom the Portuguese coach was not permitted to dance. You come at the sporting director, and you best not miss.

Regrettably, similar to numerous top-flight defender during Blackburn Rovers' championship campaign, the coach came at the executive and seems to have failed. The most casual observer will notice the paradoxical situation: a coach who frequently berated at his players for losing individual battles crumbling when confronted by the intense pressure and formidable presence of one of the Premier League’s most intimidating sporting directors.

In truth, this whole bruising episode appears to portray Jason Wilcox in a different perspective. Perhaps it might have been tempting, given his brief stint of experience with the Saints, to view Jason Wilcox as little more than a drudge in the United exoskeleton: an individual whose appointment was due largely to his friendship with his former boss a fellow executive as any verifiable talent. How wrong we all were. In brilliantly outsmarting the club's celebrated head coach, as he outmanoeuvred the hapless Dan Ashworth earlier, he has proved himself to be among the sport’s strategic masterminds: a strategic mind that the club's mid-table rivals will now be justifiably concerned.

The Strategic Clash Over System and Philosophy

For example, this was the director , after having been part of the hierarchy that appointed the rigid 3-4-3 advocate Amorim in the first place, was instrumental in attempting to convince Amorim to ditch his beloved 3-4-3. Naturally, these entreaties faced pushback. But perhaps such directives hold greater authority when issued from the mouth with the impeccable soccer background he possesses, holder of international appearances and a contributor to a title-winning side decades past.

Perhaps in time Jason Wilcox might agree to explain his thought processes publicly. Perhaps at some point questions may arise regarding why the coach is departing with full compensation, without any compensation reduction clause activated. 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 mundane comprehension. If he ever did speak, probably all we would hear would be high-frequency signals and four-dimensional whirring. Desiring an explanation is not equivalent to being ready to receive.

The Ultimate Power Behind Command

But of course, by focusing our attention on Jason Wilcox we overlook the true genius behind the modern United throne. Jason Wilcox is, in reality, merely executing the directives of his line manager Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who in private has made very clear his desire for a back four. According to reports, Ratcliffe has also suggested deploying the forward in a wing-back role. The owner is eager for United to embrace data science and metrics. According to ESPN, during a leadership summit early in his minority ownership, he declared that United’s style of play “shall be determined by this group”.

After all, Sir Jim is an expert in this technical footballing stuff, drawing from his background in petrochemicals and sailing. Above all he is incredibly rich, and it is known, the wealthy are the best of us: more insightful, sagacious, strategically brilliant, fundamentally superior. Whom else would you trust to manage a strategic plan of austerity, the construction of a modern arena that looks similar to someone’s leftover knitting, the signing of a new striker?

The New Football Hierarchy: Executives Over Coaches

This is a trend that is becoming prevalent at the elite levels football. For decades, teams mistakenly delegated big footballing decisions to subordinate staff such as coaches, talent spotters – players themselves. Perhaps it was once possible for a young, innovative manager with a philosophy and energy to join an organization and see their vision through to completion. Yet how many companies have such individuals set up? What number of mass redundancies have they overseen? Better by far to invest genuine authority where it belongs: the executive class, the open-necked shirt brigade, the individuals with impressive LinkedIn profiles. Better by far to determine the tactics by the directors and appoint someone who will adapt their offering to suit. If managers were formerly chefs, they have become more like Deliveroo drivers: not creating the product, yet ultimately answerable should it be delivered cold or fails to meet standards.

In the meantime, their job is increasingly not about defining the vision and more about marketing it: the front-facing representative of the operation, the visible figurehead of an organisation they have minimal power to influence. Enzo Maresca takes a squad of literal children into the Champions League and wins domestic cups, and essentially is dismissed for speaking out. Wilfried Nancy sees his standing damaged whereas those individuals who appointed him live to blunder indefinitely.

The Neoliberal Football: Responsibility for the Few

And possibly in a small way this represents corporate governance at work: the rise of a privileged overclass who can never be wrong, whose decisions remain sacrosanct, whose errors can always be sacked away without explanation. Hire the 3-4-3 coach only to dismiss them for playing excessively 3-4-3. Bring in the process guy and then discard them for taking too long. And above all show gratitude; for your modest increases in ticket costs, for the latest summer signings, for the reality that the adults – regardless of their expertise – are in charge.