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Iturns out the manager was able to withstand a loss to lower-league opposition. He weathered losing a crucial European final against a particularly poor Spurs sides for many years. He could survive home defeats against domestic rivals, a lowly league position, an unwavering system, squandering some of the club’s most promising homegrown talent, a poor winning percentage, calling the squad the worst the club has ever seen. But there was a single opponent against whom the Portuguese coach would not be allowed to dance. You come at the sporting director, and you best not miss.

Unfortunately, like many a top-flight defender in Blackburn’s championship campaign, the coach came at the executive and seems to have missed. Even the most distracted of readers will notice the paradoxical situation: a manager who often railed his squad for failing in one-on-one duels succumbing in the face of the intense pressure and animal charisma of a England's top division's most intimidating football executives.

In truth, this entire bruising episode appears to portray Jason Wilcox in a different perspective. It may have been tempting, given his nine months of experience at Southampton, to regard him as merely a functionary within the club's structure: an individual who owed his position as much to his friendship with ex-colleague a fellow executive rather than any demonstrable skill. How mistaken everyone was. In brilliantly outsmarting United’s feted head coach, as he outmanoeuvred the unfortunate Dan Ashworth before him, he has demonstrated as one of football's true generals: a tactical intellect that United’s competitors will now be rightly wary.

A Strategic Clash Over Formation and Philosophy

To illustrate, this was the director , after being involved in the leadership that hired the rigid 3-4-3 advocate the coach in the first place, was instrumental in trying to persuade Amorim to ditch his beloved formation. Unsurprisingly, these entreaties met a certain resistance. However, such directives carry more weight when delivered from the mouth with the unimpeachable soccer background he possesses, holder of three England caps and a contributor to a championship team decades past.

Maybe eventually he may be persuaded to explain his reasoning publicly. Maybe one day questions may arise why Amorim is walking away with full compensation, with no compensation reduction clause activated. But Jason Wilcox seldom speaks publicly, and with very good reason. The true intellectuals in football – men like him – function at a level exceeding our prosaic understanding. If he ever did speak, probably all we would hear would be ultrasonic blips and four-dimensional whirring. Desiring an explanation is not quite equivalent to being ready to receive.

The Ultimate Authority Behind Command

Naturally, by focusing our attention on Jason Wilcox we are obscuring the real power behind the club's current leadership. The director is, after all, merely executing the directives of his ultimate superior Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who privately has emphasized his preference for a four-man defense. It is reported, Ratcliffe has also suggested deploying the forward as a right wing-back. The owner is eager for the club to embrace data science and analytics. According to ESPN, during a leadership summit early in his investment, he announced that the team's approach of play “will be decided in this room”.

Ultimately, Sir Jim is a specialist in these intricate football matters, drawing from his previous experience in industry and sailing. Above all he is immensely wealthy, and as we all know, the rich are the best of us: more perceptive, more wise, more tactically astute, fundamentally superior. Whom else could one trust to manage a strategic plan of austerity, the building of a modern arena that appears a lot like someone’s leftover knitting, the signing of a new striker?

A Modern Football Hierarchy: Executives Over Managers

This is a trend we are increasingly seeing at the elite levels football. For decades, clubs foolishly entrusted major sporting choices to subordinate staff such as coaches, scouts – players themselves. Perhaps it was once possible for an up-and-coming, visionary coach with ideas and drive to go into an organization and see their vision through to completion. Yet how many businesses have these guys set up? What number of large-scale layoffs have they overseen? Far preferable to invest genuine authority where it belongs: the executive class, the open-necked shirt brigade, the individuals with impressive LinkedIn profiles. Better by far to decide the strategy by the directors and appoint a coach who will adapt their methods accordingly. If coaches were once chefs, they are now more akin to Deliveroo drivers: not creating the product, but still ultimately answerable if it arrives poorly or leaks out of the box.

In the meantime, a coach's role is increasingly not about crafting the philosophy and more about marketing it: the front-facing representative on the front desk, the visible figurehead of an organisation they can do little to influence. A coach at Chelsea leads a team of very young players into the Champions League and wins 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 Neoliberal Football: Responsibility Only for the Coaches

And possibly on some microcosmic level this is simply neoliberalism in action: the elevation of a privileged overclass who can never be wrong, whose decisions are always untouchable, whose mistakes can always be resolved by sacking without explanation. Appoint the system coach only to dismiss him for using excessively 3-4-3. Bring in the project manager and then discard him for taking excessive time. And most importantly be grateful; for your modest season ticket price rises, for the latest summer signings, for the fact that the grownups – regardless of their expertise – are in charge.