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Itranspired he endured losing against lower-league opposition. He weathered a decisive European final against one of the worst Tottenham teams for many years. He withstood home defeats to West Ham and Wolves, finishing 15th, his rigid approach, squandering some of the club’s most promising academy products, the 32% win rate, labeling his team the poorest in Manchester United history. Yet, there existed one adversary with whom Ruben Amorim would not be allowed to tango. You come at Jason Wilcox, and you best not miss.

Regrettably, like many a Premiership defender in Blackburn’s title-winning 1994-95 season, the coach came at Jason Wilcox and appears to have failed. The most distracted of readers will notice the irony here: a coach who often railed his squad for losing individual battles crumbling in the face of the white heat and animal charisma of a England's top division's most feared football executives.

In truth, this entire painful saga seems to paint Jason Wilcox in a different perspective. Perhaps it might have been tempting, based on his nine months in a similar role with the Saints, to regard him as little more than a drudge within the club's structure: a man who owed his position largely to his close relationship with ex-colleague Omar Berrada rather than any demonstrable skill. How mistaken we all were. In brilliantly outmanoeuvring United’s feted manager, as he outmanoeuvred the hapless a previous executive before him, Jason Wilcox has proved himself to be among football's true generals: a strategic mind that the club's competitors are now rightly wary.

The Tactical Clash Over System and Ideology

To illustrate, this was Jason Wilcox who having been part of the leadership that appointed the 3-4-3 fundamentalist Amorim originally, was instrumental in attempting to convince Amorim to ditch his beloved 3-4-3. Naturally, these entreaties were resisted. But perhaps these judgements hold greater authority when issued by a man of a man the unimpeachable soccer background he possesses, a veteran of international appearances and a role in a title-winning side from 31 years ago.

Maybe eventually Jason Wilcox might agree to explain his reasoning to the rest of us. Perhaps at some point questions may arise why Amorim is walking away with a full payout, with no penalty clause in place. But Jason Wilcox speaks rarely publicly, for excellent reasons. The real thinkers of this sport – individuals such as him – simply operate on a plane exceeding our prosaic understanding. Were he to speak, most likely all we would hear would be ultrasonic blips and four-dimensional whirring. Desiring an explanation is not quite the same as being ready to receive.

The Ultimate Power Behind the Throne

Naturally, by focusing our attention on the sporting director we overlook the true genius behind the club's current leadership. Jason Wilcox is, in reality, simply carrying out the commands of his ultimate superior Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who privately has made very clear his preference for a back four. According to reports, Ratcliffe has also suggested playing Bryan Mbeumo as a right wing-back. Ratcliffe is keen for the club to adopt data science and analytics. According to ESPN, in an executive meeting soon after his investment, he announced that the team's approach to football “will be decided in this room”.

After all, Ratcliffe is a specialist in these intricate footballing stuff, drawing from his background in petrochemicals and yachting. Most importantly he remains immensely wealthy, and as we all know, the rich are superior: more perceptive, sagacious, strategically brilliant, fundamentally superior. Who else would you 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?

The Modern Football Order: Directors Above Coaches

This is a trend we are increasingly seeing in top-tier of the game. Historically, clubs foolishly delegated big footballing decisions to subordinate staff such as coaches, talent spotters – even footballers. Perhaps it was once feasible for an up-and-coming, innovative manager with ideas and energy to go into an organization and implement their plan supported to fruition. Yet how many companies have these guys set up? What number of large-scale layoffs have they overseen? Far preferable to invest genuine authority where it rightly belongs: the leadership tier, the open-necked shirt brigade, the individuals with impressive professional resumes. Better by far to decide the strategy in the boardroom and hire a coach who will adapt their methods accordingly. If managers were once chefs, they are now more like Deliveroo drivers: not creating the product, but still ultimately answerable should it be delivered cold or fails of the box.

Nowadays, a coach's role has become not about crafting the philosophy and more about selling it: the receptionist of the operation, the public face for a club they have minimal power to influence. Enzo Maresca leads a team of very young players into Europe and secures two medium-sized trophies, and effectively gets sacked for speaking out. A manager at Celtic finds his reputation ruined whereas the people who appointed him live to blunder another day.

A Neoliberal Football: Responsibility Only for the Coaches

And possibly in a small way this is simply neoliberalism in action: the rise of a privileged overclass who can never be wrong, whose decisions are always untouchable, whose errors can invariably be resolved by sacking without explanation. Hire the system coach and then fire him for playing too much that system. Hire the process guy and then bin him for taking too long. And above all be grateful; for the incremental increases in ticket costs, for the latest summer signings, for the reality that the adults – however well qualified – are in charge.