🔗 Share this article

Tbecame clear Ruben Amorim could survive defeat by Grimsby. He weathered losing a crucial European final against one of the worst Tottenham teams for many years. He could survive home defeats against domestic rivals, finishing 15th, an unwavering system, laying waste to some of the club’s most promising homegrown talent, the 32% win rate, labeling his team the poorest in Manchester United history. Yet, there existed one adversary with whom Ruben Amorim was not permitted to dance. You come at the sporting director, and you best not miss.

Unfortunately, like many a Premiership defender during Blackburn Rovers' title-winning campaign, the coach came at Jason Wilcox and appears to have failed. The most distracted of readers will notice the paradoxical situation: a coach who often railed at his players for failing in one-on-one duels crumbling when confronted by the intense pressure and formidable presence of a the Premier League’s most feared football executives.

In truth, this entire bruising episode seems to paint the director in a whole new light. It may have been tempting, given his nine months in a similar role with the Saints, to regard him as merely a functionary in the United exoskeleton: a man whose appointment was due largely to his friendship with ex-colleague Omar Berrada as any verifiable talent. How mistaken everyone was. In brilliantly outsmarting the club's celebrated manager, as he outmanoeuvred the hapless a previous executive before him, he has proved himself to be among the sport’s true generals: a tactical intellect of which the club's mid-table rivals will now be rightly wary.

The Tactical Conflict Regarding Formation & Ideology

To illustrate, it was the director who having been part of the hierarchy that hired the rigid 3-4-3 advocate the coach originally, played a key role in attempting to convince Amorim to abandon his favored formation. Naturally, these entreaties were resisted. However, these judgements carry more weight when issued from the mouth with the impeccable football pedigree he possesses, a veteran of international appearances and a role in a title-winning side from 31 years ago.

Perhaps in time Jason Wilcox might agree to explain his reasoning publicly. Maybe one day questions may arise regarding why the coach is walking away with a full payout, with no compensation reduction clause in place. But Jason Wilcox seldom speaks in public, for excellent reasons. The real thinkers of this sport – individuals such as Jason Wilcox – simply operate at a level exceeding our mundane comprehension. Were he to speak, probably all we would hear is a series of ultrasonic blips and complex calculations. Wanting is not equivalent to being ready to receive.

The Ultimate Power In the Throne

But of course, in training our focus on the sporting director we are obscuring the real power behind the club's current leadership. The director is, in reality, simply carrying out the commands of his ultimate superior Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who in private has emphasized his preference for a back four. According to reports, the owner has also proposed playing Bryan Mbeumo as a right wing-back. Ratcliffe is keen for the club to embrace data science and analytics. Per reports, during a leadership summit early in his minority ownership, he declared that the team's approach of play “shall be decided by this group”.

After all, Ratcliffe is a specialist in this technical football matters, leveraging his background in industry and yachting. Most importantly he is incredibly rich, and it is known, the rich are the best of us: more insightful, more wise, more tactically astute, fundamentally better. Whom else would you trust to oversee an enlightened programme of austerity, the building of a new stadium that appears a lot like someone’s leftover knitting, the acquisition of Benjamin Sesko?

The Modern Football Hierarchy: Directors Over Coaches

This represents a shift that is becoming prevalent at the elite levels of the game. For decades, clubs foolishly delegated major sporting choices to low-level employees like managers, scouts – even footballers. Maybe previously possible for a young, visionary coach with ideas and energy to join an organization and implement their plan through to completion. But how many businesses have these guys set up? How many mass redundancies have they overseen? Far preferable to place genuine authority where it belongs: the executive class, the open-necked shirt brigade, the individuals with the jaw-dropping professional resumes. It is wiser to determine the tactics by the directors and appoint a coach who can tailor their offering accordingly. If managers were formerly chefs, they are now more like delivery personnel: not really responsible for the product, but still ultimately answerable should it be delivered poorly or leaks out 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 for a club they can do little to change. A coach at Chelsea leads a team of very young players into Europe and secures domestic cups, and essentially is dismissed for speaking out. A manager at Celtic finds his reputation ruined whereas the people who hired him continue to make errors indefinitely.

The Modern Corporate Football: Accountability for the Few

And perhaps in a small way this represents corporate governance at work: the rise of a privileged overclass who are infallible, whose choices remain sacrosanct, whose mistakes can invariably be resolved by sacking without explanation. Hire the 3-4-3 coach only to dismiss him for playing excessively 3-4-3. Hire the project manager and then bin them for taking too long. And above all show gratitude; for the incremental season ticket price rises, for the latest player acquisitions, for the reality that the adults – however well qualified – are in charge.