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Tbecame clear the manager could survive losing against lower-league opposition. He weathered a decisive European final against a particularly poor Tottenham teams in living memory. He withstood losing at home against West Ham and Wolves, finishing 15th, an unwavering system, squandering the team's most promising homegrown talent, a poor winning percentage, calling his team the poorest in Manchester United history. Yet, there existed one adversary with whom the Portuguese coach would not be allowed to dance. You come at Jason Wilcox, you had better succeed.

Regrettably, like many a Premiership defender during Blackburn Rovers' title-winning 1994-95 season, the coach took on Jason Wilcox and seems to have missed. Even the most casual observer can see the paradoxical situation: a manager who often railed his squad for losing one-on-one duels crumbling in the face of the white heat and animal charisma of one of the Premier League’s most feared football executives.

In truth, this whole bruising episode appears to portray Jason Wilcox in a whole new light. It may have been easy, given his brief stint in a similar role at Southampton, to regard Jason Wilcox as little more than a functionary within the club's structure: a man who owed his position largely to his friendship with his former boss Omar Berrada rather than any verifiable talent. How wrong everyone was. By masterfully outmanoeuvring United’s feted manager, as he outmanoeuvred the hapless Dan Ashworth before him, he has proved himself as one of football's true generals: a strategic mind that United’s competitors are now rightly wary.

A Tactical Conflict Over System & Philosophy

For example, it was the director , after being involved in the hierarchy that appointed the 3-4-3 fundamentalist Amorim in the first place, was instrumental in trying to persuade him to abandon his favored formation. Naturally, these entreaties were resisted. However, these judgements carry more weight 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.

Maybe eventually Jason Wilcox may be persuaded to explain his thought processes publicly. Maybe one day questions may arise regarding why the coach is walking away with full compensation, with no compensation reduction clause in place. The director speaks rarely in public, for excellent reasons. The real thinkers of this sport – individuals such as him – simply operate on a plane exceeding our mundane comprehension. If he ever did speak, probably all we would hear is a series of high-frequency signals and four-dimensional whirring. Desiring an explanation is not the same as being prepared to receive.

An Supreme Power In the Throne

Naturally, by focusing our attention on the sporting director we overlook the real power behind the modern United throne. Jason Wilcox is, after all, simply carrying out the commands of his ultimate line manager Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who in private has made very clear his preference for a back four. According to reports, Ratcliffe has also proposed deploying the forward in a wing-back role. Ratcliffe is keen for United to embrace data science and analytics. Per reports, in an executive meeting early in his minority ownership, he announced that the team's approach to football “shall be determined by this group”.

After all, Ratcliffe is a specialist in this technical football matters, drawing from his previous experience in industry and yachting. Above all he remains incredibly rich, and as we all know, the rich are the best of us: more insightful, more wise, more tactically astute, fundamentally superior. Whom else would you trust to oversee an enlightened programme of austerity, the construction of a new stadium that looks a lot like someone’s leftover knitting, the signing of a new striker?

The New Soccer Order: Directors Over Coaches

This represents a shift we are increasingly seeing in top-tier football. Historically, clubs foolishly delegated major sporting choices to subordinate staff such as coaches, scouts – players themselves. Maybe previously possible for an up-and-coming, visionary coach with ideas and energy to join a club and see their vision through to completion. But how many businesses have such individuals set up? How many mass redundancies have they overseen? Better by far to place genuine authority where it rightly belongs: the executive class, the casually dressed executives, the individuals with impressive professional resumes. Better by far to determine the strategy in the boardroom and hire a coach who will adapt their offering to suit. If managers were once chefs, they have become more akin to Deliveroo drivers: not really creating the food, but still ultimately answerable if it arrives poorly or leaks out of the box.

In the meantime, their job is increasingly not about crafting the philosophy and more about selling it: the receptionist of the operation, the public face of an organisation they have minimal power to influence. A coach at Chelsea leads a team of very young players into Europe and secures two medium-sized trophies, and effectively is dismissed for speaking out. Wilfried Nancy sees his standing damaged while the people who hired him live to blunder indefinitely.

A Neoliberal Football: Responsibility Only for the Coaches

And possibly in a small way this is simply corporate governance in action: the rise of a privileged elite who are infallible, whose decisions are always sacrosanct, whose mistakes can invariably be sacked away without justification. Hire the 3-4-3 coach only to dismiss him for playing too much that system. Bring in the project manager and then bin them for requiring 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 – remain in control.