Turns out the manager could survive a loss to Grimsby. Survive an important European final against one of the worst Tottenham teams for many years. He withstood home defeats against West Ham and Wolves, a lowly league position, his rigid approach, undermining some of the club’s best academy products, a poor winning percentage, calling his team the poorest the club has ever seen. Yet, there existed one adversary with whom Ruben Amorim would not be allowed to tango. You come at the sporting director, and you best not miss.
Unfortunately, like many a Premiership right-back during Blackburn Rovers' championship 1994-95 season, the coach came at Jason Wilcox and appears to have failed. Even the most casual observer will notice the paradoxical situation: a coach who frequently berated his squad for losing individual battles crumbling when confronted by the intense pressure and formidable presence of one of the Premier League’s most intimidating football executives.
And frankly, this entire painful saga appears to portray Jason Wilcox in a different perspective. It may have been tempting, given his brief stint in a similar role with the Saints, to view him as merely a drudge in the United exoskeleton: an individual whose appointment was due as much to his friendship with ex-colleague Omar Berrada rather than any verifiable talent. How mistaken we all were. In brilliantly outmanoeuvring the club's celebrated head coach, just as he bested the hapless a previous executive earlier, he has demonstrated as one of football's strategic masterminds: a tactical intellect of which United’s competitors are now rightly wary.
For example, this was the director who having been part of the leadership that hired the rigid 3-4-3 advocate Amorim originally, played a key role in trying to persuade him to ditch his favored 3-4-3. Unsurprisingly, these entreaties were resisted. However, these judgements hold greater authority when issued from the mouth with the unimpeachable football pedigree he possesses, a veteran of three England caps and a role in a title-winning side from 31 years ago.
Perhaps in time he may be persuaded to explain his thought processes to the rest of us. Perhaps at some point he might be asked why Amorim is walking away with a full payout, without any compensation reduction clause in place. But Jason Wilcox speaks rarely in public, and with very good reason. The real thinkers in football – men like Jason Wilcox – simply operate on a plane beyond our own prosaic understanding. Were he to speak, most likely all we would hear is a series of high-frequency signals and four-dimensional whirring. Wanting is not quite equivalent to being prepared to receive.
But of course, in training our focus on Jason Wilcox we overlook the real power behind the modern United throne. The director is, in reality, merely executing the commands of his line manager the billionaire owner, who privately has made very clear his desire for a four-man defense. It is reported, Ratcliffe has also proposed playing Bryan Mbeumo in a wing-back role. Ratcliffe is keen for United to adopt data science and analytics. Per reports, in an executive meeting early in his investment, he declared that United’s style to football “will be determined by this group”.
Ultimately, Ratcliffe is a specialist in this technical footballing stuff, leveraging his previous experience in industry and yachting. Most importantly he remains incredibly rich, and as we all know, the wealthy are the best of us: more insightful, more wise, more tactically astute, fundamentally superior. Whom else could one trust to oversee an enlightened programme of austerity, the building of a modern arena that looks a lot like an abstract design, the signing of a new striker?
This represents a shift we are increasingly seeing at the elite levels of the game. Historically, clubs foolishly delegated big footballing decisions to low-level employees like managers, talent spotters – even footballers. Maybe previously feasible for an up-and-coming, innovative manager with a philosophy and energy to go into an organization and see their vision through to completion. Yet how many companies have these guys set up? What number of large-scale layoffs have they overseen? Better by far to place the real power where it rightly belongs: the leadership tier, the open-necked shirt brigade, the individuals with the jaw-dropping professional resumes. Better by far to decide the strategy in the boardroom and appoint someone who can tailor their offering accordingly. If coaches were once chefs, they are now more like delivery personnel: not creating the food, yet ultimately answerable should it be delivered cold or leaks out to meet standards.
Nowadays, their job is increasingly not about crafting the philosophy and more about selling it: the receptionist on the front desk, the public face for a club they can do little to change. Enzo Maresca takes a squad of very young players into Europe and wins domestic cups, and effectively gets sacked for talking. A manager at Celtic sees his reputation ruined while the people who appointed him continue to make errors indefinitely.
And possibly on some microcosmic level this represents neoliberalism in action: the rise of a gilded elite who are infallible, whose decisions are always untouchable, whose errors can invariably be resolved by sacking without explanation. Appoint the 3-4-3 coach only to dismiss him for playing excessively that system. Hire the project manager and then discard him for requiring excessive time. And most importantly show gratitude; for your modest season ticket price rises, for your new summer signings, for the fact that the adults – however well qualified – are in charge.