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Iturns out Ruben Amorim could survive defeat by Grimsby. He weathered a decisive European final versus a particularly poor Tottenham teams for many years. He could survive home defeats to West Ham and Wolves, finishing 15th, his rigid approach, undermining some of the club’s best academy products, the 32% win rate, labeling the squad the worst in Manchester United history. But there was one adversary against whom the Portuguese coach would not be allowed to dance. You come at Jason Wilcox, and you best not miss.

Regrettably, like many a top-flight defender during Blackburn Rovers' title-winning 1994-95 season, the coach came at Jason Wilcox and appears to have failed. Even the most distracted of readers will notice the irony here: a coach who frequently berated at his players for failing in one-on-one duels succumbing in the face of the intense pressure and formidable presence of one of England's top division's most feared football executives.

And frankly, this whole bruising episode seems to paint Jason Wilcox in a whole new light. Perhaps it might have been tempting, given his brief stint of experience at Southampton, to regard Jason Wilcox as little more than a drudge within the club's structure: a man whose appointment was due as much to his friendship with his former boss a fellow executive rather than any verifiable talent. How wrong everyone was. In brilliantly outsmarting the club's celebrated head coach, as he outmanoeuvred the hapless Dan Ashworth before him, Jason Wilcox has proved himself as one of the sport’s strategic masterminds: a strategic mind that United’s mid-table rivals will now be rightly wary.

A Strategic Conflict Over Formation and Ideology

For example, this was the director , after being involved in the hierarchy that appointed the 3-4-3 fundamentalist Amorim in the first place, played a key role in attempting to convince him to abandon his beloved 3-4-3. Naturally, these pleas met a certain resistance. But perhaps these judgements hold greater authority when issued by a man with the impeccable football pedigree he possesses, holder of three England caps and a contributor to a title-winning side decades past.

Perhaps in time he may be persuaded to explain his reasoning publicly. Perhaps at some point he might be asked why Amorim is departing with full compensation, with no compensation reduction clause activated. But Jason Wilcox speaks rarely publicly, for excellent reasons. The true intellectuals in football – men like him – simply operate at a level beyond our own prosaic understanding. Were he to speak, probably we would perceive would be high-frequency signals and complex calculations. Wanting is not quite equivalent to being ready to receive.

The Supreme Authority Behind the Throne

Naturally, in training our focus on Jason Wilcox we overlook the real power behind the modern United throne. Jason Wilcox is, after all, simply carrying out the directives of his ultimate line manager the billionaire owner, who in private has made very clear his desire 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 analytics and metrics. According to ESPN, during a leadership summit soon after his minority ownership, he declared that the team's approach of play “will be decided by this group”.

Ultimately, Sir Jim is a specialist in this technical footballing stuff, drawing from his background in petrochemicals and yachting. Above all he is immensely wealthy, and it is known, the rich are superior: more perceptive, more wise, more tactically astute, fundamentally better. Who else could one trust to oversee an enlightened programme of austerity, the construction of a modern arena that looks a lot like someone’s leftover knitting, the signing of Benjamin Sesko?

The Modern Soccer Order: Directors Above Managers

This is a trend we are increasingly seeing 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 a club and see their vision through to completion. But how many businesses have such individuals set up? What number of mass redundancies have they managed? Far preferable to place genuine authority where it rightly belongs: the executive class, the open-necked shirt brigade, the guys with impressive professional resumes. Better by far to determine the strategy by the directors and hire someone who can tailor their offering accordingly. If coaches were formerly chefs, they are now more like Deliveroo drivers: not responsible for the food, yet ultimately answerable if it arrives cold or fails to meet standards.

Nowadays, their job is increasingly less about defining the vision and more about marketing it: the receptionist of the operation, the public face of an organisation they have minimal power to change. Enzo Maresca takes a squad of very young players into Europe and secures domestic cups, and effectively is dismissed for talking. A manager at Celtic finds his standing damaged while the people who appointed him continue to make errors another day.

A Neoliberal Football: Responsibility Only for the Few

And perhaps on some microcosmic level this represents corporate governance in action: the rise of a gilded elite who are infallible, whose decisions remain sacrosanct, whose mistakes can invariably be sacked away without explanation. Appoint the 3-4-3 coach only to fire him for using too much 3-4-3. Hire the project manager and then bin him for requiring excessive time. And most importantly show gratitude; for the incremental increases in ticket costs, for your new player acquisitions, for the reality that the adults – however well qualified – remain in control.