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Tbecame clear the manager was able to withstand a loss to lower-league opposition. He weathered losing a crucial continental showpiece versus a particularly poor Tottenham teams for many years. He withstood home defeats against West Ham and Wolves, finishing 15th, the tactical inflexibility, squandering some of the club’s best academy products, the 32% win rate, labeling the squad the poorest the club has ever seen. Yet, there existed one adversary with whom the Portuguese coach was not permitted to engage. You come at the sporting director, you had better succeed.

Regrettably, like many a top-flight right-back in Blackburn’s championship campaign, the coach came at the executive and appears to have missed. Even the most distracted of readers will notice the paradoxical situation: a coach who frequently berated at his players for failing in one-on-one duels crumbling in the face of the intense pressure and formidable presence of one of England's top division's most feared sporting directors.

In truth, this entire bruising episode seems to paint the director in a different perspective. It may have been tempting, based on his brief stint of experience with the Saints, to view him as little more than a drudge in the United exoskeleton: an individual who owed his position as much to his friendship with ex-colleague Omar Berrada as any verifiable talent. How wrong everyone was. By masterfully outsmarting the club's celebrated head coach, just as he bested the unfortunate Dan Ashworth before him, Jason Wilcox has proved himself to be among football's true generals: a tactical intellect that United’s competitors are now justifiably concerned.

A Strategic Clash Regarding Formation & Philosophy

For example, it was Jason Wilcox who having been part of the hierarchy that appointed the rigid 3-4-3 advocate Amorim originally, played a key role in trying to persuade Amorim to abandon his beloved 3-4-3. Unsurprisingly, these pleas were resisted. However, these judgements carry more weight when issued by a man with the unimpeachable football pedigree he possesses, a veteran of three England caps and a contributor to a championship team decades past.

Maybe eventually Jason Wilcox may be persuaded to outline his thought processes publicly. Perhaps at some point questions may arise why Amorim is walking away with a full payout, without any compensation reduction clause activated. But Jason Wilcox seldom speaks publicly, for excellent reasons. The real thinkers of this sport – men like him – simply operate on a plane exceeding our prosaic understanding. Were he to speak, probably we would perceive would be ultrasonic blips and four-dimensional whirring. Wanting is not equivalent to being prepared to comprehend it.

An Supreme Power Behind Command

Naturally, by focusing our attention on the sporting director we overlook the real power behind the club's current leadership. Jason Wilcox is, in reality, merely executing the directives of his ultimate line manager Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who in private has made very clear his desire for a back four. It is reported, Ratcliffe has also suggested deploying the forward in a wing-back role. Ratcliffe is keen for the club to adopt analytics and analytics. Per reports, in an executive meeting soon after his minority ownership, he announced that the team's approach of play “will be determined in this room”.

After all, Ratcliffe is a specialist in this technical footballing stuff, drawing from his previous experience in petrochemicals and sailing. Most importantly he remains immensely wealthy, and it is known, the wealthy are the best of us: more perceptive, more wise, strategically brilliant, fundamentally superior. Whom else could one trust to oversee a strategic plan of cost-cutting, the building of a new stadium that looks a lot like someone’s leftover knitting, the acquisition of a new striker?

A New Soccer Order: Directors Over Managers

This is a trend we are increasingly seeing in top-tier of the game. Historically, teams mistakenly entrusted big footballing decisions to subordinate staff like managers, talent spotters – even footballers. Maybe previously possible for a young, innovative manager with a philosophy and drive to go into a club and implement their plan through to completion. But how many companies have such individuals set up? What number of large-scale layoffs have they overseen? Better by far to invest the real power where it belongs: the executive class, the open-necked shirt brigade, the individuals with the jaw-dropping LinkedIn profiles. It is wiser to decide the tactics in the boardroom and appoint someone who will adapt their methods to suit. If managers were once chefs, they are now more akin to delivery personnel: not responsible for the product, yet finally accountable should it be delivered poorly or leaks out of the box.

Nowadays, their job is increasingly less about defining the vision and more about selling it: the front-facing representative of the operation, the visible figurehead of an organisation they have minimal power to change. Enzo Maresca takes a squad of literal children into the Champions League and secures two medium-sized trophies, and essentially is dismissed for talking. A manager at Celtic sees his standing damaged whereas the people who hired him continue to make errors another day.

A Neoliberal Football: Responsibility for the Few

And perhaps on some microcosmic level this represents neoliberalism at work: the rise of a gilded overclass who can never be wrong, whose decisions are always untouchable, whose errors can invariably be resolved by sacking without justification. Hire the 3-4-3 coach and then fire him for playing excessively 3-4-3. Hire the project manager and later bin them for requiring too long. And most importantly be grateful; for your modest increases in ticket costs, for the latest player acquisitions, for the fact that the adults – regardless of their expertise – are in charge.