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Transpired Ruben Amorim was able to withstand losing against lower-league opposition. Survive an important European final against one of the worst Spurs sides in living memory. He could survive losing at home against domestic rivals, a lowly league position, an unwavering system, undermining the team's best homegrown talent, a poor winning percentage, calling his team the worst the club has ever seen. But there was one adversary against whom the Portuguese coach would not be allowed to tango. If you challenge Jason Wilcox, and you best not miss.

Regrettably, like many a top-flight right-back during Blackburn Rovers' championship 1994-95 season, Amorim came at the executive and seems to have missed. The most distracted of readers can see the paradoxical situation: a coach who frequently berated at his players for losing one-on-one duels succumbing when confronted by the intense pressure and formidable presence of a the Premier League’s most feared sporting directors.

In truth, this entire painful saga appears to portray the director in a different perspective. Perhaps it might have been easy, based on his brief stint in a similar role with the Saints, to view Jason Wilcox as little more than a drudge within the club's structure: a man whose appointment was due as much to his friendship with his former boss Omar Berrada as any demonstrable skill. How mistaken everyone was. In brilliantly outsmarting United’s feted head coach, as he outmanoeuvred the hapless Dan Ashworth earlier, Jason Wilcox has proved himself to be among football's true generals: a tactical intellect that the club's competitors are now justifiably concerned.

The Strategic Clash Over Formation & Ideology

For example, this was the director who having been part of the leadership that appointed the rigid 3-4-3 advocate the coach in the first place, played a key role in attempting to convince him to abandon his favored formation. Unsurprisingly, these entreaties met a certain resistance. But perhaps these judgements carry more weight when issued by a man with the impeccable football pedigree he possesses, holder of international appearances and a contributor to a title-winning side from 31 years ago.

Maybe eventually Jason Wilcox might agree to outline his reasoning to the rest of us. Perhaps at some point he might be asked regarding why the coach is departing with full compensation, with no penalty clause activated. The director speaks rarely publicly, and with very good reason. The real thinkers in football – individuals such as him – function at a level beyond our own mundane comprehension. If he ever did speak, most likely we would perceive would be high-frequency signals and four-dimensional whirring. Wanting is not quite equivalent to being prepared to comprehend it.

An Ultimate Power Behind the Throne

But of course, 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 commands of his ultimate line manager Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who in private has emphasized his preference for a four-man defense. According to reports, the owner has also suggested playing Bryan Mbeumo as a right wing-back. Ratcliffe is keen for the club to adopt analytics and analytics. According to ESPN, in an executive meeting early in his minority ownership, he declared that the team's approach to football “shall be decided in this room”.

After all, Ratcliffe is a specialist in these intricate footballing stuff, drawing from his background in industry and yachting. Above all he remains immensely wealthy, and as we all know, the rich are the best of us: more insightful, sagacious, more tactically astute, fundamentally better. Whom else would you trust to oversee an enlightened programme of cost-cutting, the building of a modern arena that appears similar to someone’s leftover knitting, the acquisition of a new striker?

A Modern Soccer Hierarchy: Executives Above Managers

This is a trend we are increasingly seeing in top-tier of the game. For decades, teams mistakenly delegated big footballing decisions to subordinate staff such as coaches, scouts – players themselves. Maybe previously possible for an up-and-coming, visionary coach with ideas and drive to join an organization and see their vision supported to fruition. But how many companies have such individuals set up? How many large-scale layoffs have they managed? Better by far to invest the real power where it rightly belongs: the leadership tier, the open-necked shirt brigade, the guys with the jaw-dropping LinkedIn profiles. Better by far to determine the strategy by the directors and appoint a coach who can tailor their offering accordingly. If coaches were formerly chefs, they are now more like Deliveroo drivers: not really responsible for the product, yet ultimately answerable should it be delivered poorly or leaks out of the box.

In the meantime, a coach's role is increasingly less about crafting the philosophy and more about selling it: the front-facing representative on the front desk, the public face of an organisation they can do little to influence. Enzo Maresca takes a squad of very young players into the Champions League and wins two medium-sized trophies, and effectively gets sacked for speaking out. Wilfried Nancy sees his reputation ruined while those individuals who appointed him live to blunder another day.

A Modern Corporate Football: Accountability for the Coaches

And possibly on some microcosmic level this is simply corporate governance in action: the rise of a privileged overclass who are infallible, whose choices remain sacrosanct, whose errors can always be sacked away without explanation. Hire the 3-4-3 coach and then fire him for using too much 3-4-3. Bring in the project manager and later discard him for taking too long. And above all be grateful; for your modest season ticket price rises, for your new player acquisitions, for the fact that the grownups – however well qualified – remain in control.