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Turns out Ruben Amorim was able to withstand losing against lower-league opposition. He weathered an important continental showpiece versus a particularly poor Tottenham teams for many years. He could survive home defeats to West Ham and Wolves, a lowly league position, an unwavering system, undermining the team's best academy products, a poor winning percentage, labeling his team the worst the club has ever seen. But there was one adversary with whom the Portuguese coach would not be allowed to engage. You come at Jason Wilcox, and you best not miss.

Unfortunately, like many a top-flight right-back in Blackburn’s championship 1994-95 season, Amorim took on the executive and seems to have failed. Even the most casual observer will notice the irony here: a coach who often railed his squad for failing in one-on-one duels crumbling when confronted by the intense pressure and animal charisma of one of the Premier League’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 easy, given his brief stint of experience with the Saints, to view him as merely a functionary within the club's structure: a man whose appointment was due largely to his close relationship with his former boss Omar Berrada as any demonstrable skill. How mistaken we all were. In brilliantly outsmarting United’s feted head coach, as he outmanoeuvred the unfortunate Dan Ashworth before him, Jason Wilcox has demonstrated to be among the sport’s true generals: a strategic mind of which United’s mid-table rivals will now be justifiably concerned.

A Tactical Clash Over System and Philosophy

To illustrate, it was the director , after being involved in the hierarchy that appointed the rigid 3-4-3 advocate the coach in the first place, was instrumental in trying to persuade Amorim to abandon his beloved 3-4-3. Naturally, these pleas faced pushback. But perhaps such directives carry more weight when delivered by a man with the impeccable football pedigree of Jason Wilcox, holder of three England caps and a role in a championship team decades past.

Maybe eventually Jason Wilcox might agree to outline his thought processes to the rest of us. Maybe one day he might be asked regarding why the coach is departing with full compensation, without any penalty clause activated. But Jason Wilcox speaks rarely publicly, for excellent reasons. The true intellectuals in football – men like Jason Wilcox – function on a plane beyond our own prosaic understanding. Were he to speak, probably we would perceive would be ultrasonic blips and complex calculations. Wanting is not the same as being prepared to comprehend it.

The Ultimate Authority Behind the Throne

But of course, by focusing our attention on the sporting director we overlook the real power behind the club's current leadership. Jason Wilcox is, after all, merely executing the commands of his ultimate line manager the billionaire owner, who in private has emphasized his desire for a back four. It is reported, the owner has also suggested playing Bryan Mbeumo in a wing-back role. The owner is eager for United to embrace data science and analytics. According to ESPN, in an executive meeting soon after his minority ownership, he declared that United’s style of play “will be determined by this group”.

After all, Ratcliffe is a specialist in these intricate footballing stuff, drawing from his previous experience in petrochemicals and yachting. Most importantly he is incredibly rich, and as we all know, the wealthy are superior: more insightful, sagacious, strategically brilliant, fundamentally superior. Who else could one trust to manage a strategic plan of austerity, the construction of a modern arena that appears a lot like someone’s leftover knitting, the acquisition of Benjamin Sesko?

The Modern Football Hierarchy: Directors Over Managers

This is a trend we are increasingly seeing in top-tier of the game. Historically, teams mistakenly entrusted major sporting choices to subordinate staff such as coaches, talent spotters – players themselves. Perhaps it was once feasible for an up-and-coming, visionary coach with a philosophy and drive to join a club and implement their plan through to completion. Yet how many businesses have these guys set up? How many large-scale layoffs have they overseen? Better by far to place genuine authority where it rightly belongs: the leadership tier, the open-necked shirt brigade, the guys with impressive professional resumes. It is wiser to decide the strategy by the directors and hire a coach who will adapt their methods to suit. If managers were once chefs, they have become more akin to delivery personnel: not really responsible for the food, but still finally accountable should it be delivered cold or fails of the box.

Nowadays, their job has become less about crafting the philosophy and more about selling it: the receptionist of the operation, the visible figurehead of an organisation they have minimal power to change. A coach at Chelsea leads a team of literal children into Europe and secures two medium-sized trophies, and essentially is dismissed for talking. A manager at Celtic finds his reputation ruined while the people who appointed him live to blunder another day.

A Neoliberal Football: Accountability Only for the Few

And possibly on some microcosmic level this represents corporate governance at work: the elevation of a privileged overclass who are infallible, whose decisions remain sacrosanct, whose errors can invariably be resolved by sacking without justification. Hire the 3-4-3 coach and then dismiss them for playing too much that system. Bring in the project manager and then bin them for taking too long. And above all be grateful; for the incremental season ticket price rises, for the latest player acquisitions, for the reality that the grownups – regardless of their expertise – are in charge.