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Turns out Ruben Amorim was able to withstand a loss to Grimsby. Survive an important continental showpiece against a particularly poor Spurs sides for many years. He withstood home defeats against West Ham and Wolves, finishing 15th, an unwavering system, laying waste to the team's best homegrown talent, a poor winning percentage, calling his team the poorest in Manchester United history. Yet, there existed one adversary with whom Ruben Amorim was not permitted to tango. You come at Jason Wilcox, and you best not miss.

Unfortunately, like many a Premiership right-back in Blackburn’s title-winning 1994-95 season, the coach took on Jason Wilcox and seems to have missed. The most distracted of readers can see the paradoxical situation: a manager who frequently berated at his players for failing in one-on-one duels crumbling in the face of the intense pressure and animal charisma of one of England's top division's most feared football executives.

And frankly, this whole painful saga seems to paint Jason Wilcox in a whole new light. It may have been easy, given his nine months in a similar role with the Saints, to view him as merely a functionary in the United exoskeleton: an individual whose appointment was due as much to his close relationship with his former boss a fellow executive as any demonstrable skill. How mistaken everyone was. In brilliantly outsmarting the club's celebrated head coach, as he outmanoeuvred the hapless a previous executive before him, Jason Wilcox has proved himself to be among football's strategic masterminds: a tactical intellect of which the club's mid-table rivals are now rightly wary.

The Tactical Conflict Regarding Formation and Philosophy

To illustrate, this was the director who having been part of the hierarchy that appointed the rigid 3-4-3 advocate the coach in the first place, played a key role in trying to persuade Amorim to ditch his beloved 3-4-3. Naturally, these pleas were resisted. But perhaps such directives carry more weight when delivered from the mouth with the unimpeachable football pedigree he possesses, holder of three England caps and a role in a championship team decades past.

Perhaps in time he may be persuaded to outline his thought processes to the rest of us. Perhaps at some point questions may arise regarding why the coach is departing with a full payout, with no compensation reduction clause activated. But Jason Wilcox seldom speaks publicly, and with very good reason. The real thinkers of this sport – individuals such as Jason Wilcox – function on a plane exceeding our mundane comprehension. If he ever did speak, probably all we would hear is a series of ultrasonic blips and complex calculations. Desiring an explanation is not the same as being prepared to receive.

The Ultimate Authority In Command

Naturally, in training our focus on Jason Wilcox we overlook the real power behind the modern United throne. Jason Wilcox is, after all, merely executing the directives of his ultimate line manager Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who privately has emphasized his desire for a four-man defense. It is reported, the owner has also proposed playing Bryan Mbeumo in a wing-back role. The owner is eager for United to embrace data science and metrics. According to ESPN, during a leadership summit early in his minority ownership, he announced that United’s style of play “shall be determined in this room”.

After all, Sir Jim is an expert in this technical football matters, drawing from his previous experience in petrochemicals and sailing. Above all he is immensely wealthy, and as we all know, the rich are superior: more insightful, more wise, more tactically astute, fundamentally better. Who else would you trust to manage a strategic plan of austerity, the construction of a new stadium that looks similar to someone’s leftover knitting, the signing of Benjamin Sesko?

A New Football Hierarchy: Executives Above Managers

This is a trend that is becoming prevalent in top-tier football. Historically, clubs foolishly entrusted big footballing decisions to low-level employees such as coaches, scouts – even footballers. Perhaps it was once feasible for a young, visionary coach with a philosophy and drive to go into an organization and see their vision through to completion. But how many companies have these guys established? What number of mass redundancies have they managed? Far preferable to place genuine authority where it rightly belongs: the leadership tier, the open-necked shirt brigade, the individuals with the jaw-dropping LinkedIn profiles. It is wiser to decide the strategy by the directors and hire someone who will adapt their methods accordingly. If coaches were once chefs, they have become more like delivery personnel: not responsible for the product, but still ultimately answerable if it arrives poorly or fails to meet standards.

In the meantime, a coach's role 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 have minimal power to influence. Enzo Maresca leads a team of very young players into the Champions League and wins two medium-sized trophies, and effectively is dismissed for speaking out. Wilfried Nancy sees his reputation ruined whereas the people who appointed him live to blunder another day.

The Neoliberal Game: Responsibility Only for the Few

And perhaps in a small way this represents corporate governance in action: the elevation of a gilded overclass who can never be wrong, whose choices remain untouchable, whose mistakes can invariably be sacked away without justification. Appoint the system coach only to dismiss him for using too much that system. Hire the project manager and then discard them for taking excessive time. And above all be grateful; for your modest season ticket price rises, for the latest player acquisitions, for the fact that the adults – however well qualified – are in charge.