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Tbecame clear Ruben Amorim endured defeat by Grimsby. He weathered losing a crucial continental showpiece against a particularly poor Tottenham teams for many years. He withstood losing at home to domestic rivals, a lowly league position, the tactical inflexibility, undermining the team's best academy products, a poor winning percentage, calling his team the worst the club has ever seen. But there was a single opponent with whom Ruben Amorim would not be allowed to engage. You come at Jason Wilcox, you had better succeed.

Regrettably, similar to numerous top-flight defender during Blackburn Rovers' title-winning campaign, Amorim took on the executive and seems to have missed. Even the most distracted of readers can see the irony here: a manager who frequently berated at his players for failing in one-on-one duels succumbing in the face of the intense pressure and animal charisma of one of the Premier League’s most intimidating sporting directors.

And frankly, this entire bruising episode seems to paint 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 regard him as merely a functionary in the United exoskeleton: an individual who owed his position largely to his close relationship with ex-colleague a fellow executive rather than any demonstrable skill. How mistaken everyone was. In brilliantly outmanoeuvring the club's celebrated head coach, as he outmanoeuvred the hapless Dan Ashworth earlier, he has demonstrated to be among the sport’s true generals: a strategic mind that the club's mid-table rivals will now be rightly wary.

A Strategic Clash Regarding Formation and Ideology

To illustrate, this was the director , after having been part of the hierarchy that appointed the 3-4-3 fundamentalist the coach in the first place, played a key role in attempting to convince Amorim to ditch his beloved formation. Unsurprisingly, these entreaties were resisted. But perhaps such directives hold greater authority when delivered by a man with the unimpeachable soccer background he possesses, holder of international appearances and a contributor to a title-winning side decades past.

Maybe eventually Jason Wilcox may be persuaded to outline his reasoning publicly. Perhaps at some point questions may arise regarding why the coach is departing with a full payout, without any compensation reduction clause activated. The director speaks rarely publicly, and with very good reason. The real thinkers in football – men like him – simply operate on a plane exceeding our mundane comprehension. Were he to speak, probably all we would hear is a series of ultrasonic blips and four-dimensional whirring. Desiring an explanation is not quite the same as being prepared to comprehend it.

The Ultimate Power In Command

But of course, by focusing our attention on the sporting director we overlook the true genius behind the club's current leadership. The director is, after all, merely executing the directives of his line manager Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who in private has made very clear 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 the club to adopt analytics and metrics. According to ESPN, in an executive meeting soon after his minority ownership, he declared that the team's approach of play “will be determined in this room”.

Ultimately, Sir Jim is a specialist in these intricate football matters, drawing from his previous experience in petrochemicals and yachting. Above all he remains immensely wealthy, and as we all know, the rich are superior: more insightful, more wise, strategically brilliant, fundamentally better. Whom else could one trust to manage a strategic plan of cost-cutting, the construction of a modern arena that appears a lot like someone’s leftover knitting, the acquisition of a new striker?

The New Football Order: Directors Above Coaches

This represents a shift that is becoming prevalent at the elite levels of the game. For decades, clubs foolishly delegated big footballing decisions to subordinate staff such as coaches, scouts – players themselves. Perhaps it was once possible for an up-and-coming, innovative manager with a philosophy and drive to go into an organization and implement their plan through to completion. Yet how many businesses have these guys set up? What number of large-scale layoffs have they overseen? Better by far to invest the real power where it belongs: the leadership tier, the casually dressed executives, the guys with impressive LinkedIn profiles. Better by far to determine the tactics by the directors and appoint someone who can tailor their offering to suit. If coaches were once chefs, they have become more like delivery personnel: not creating the product, yet finally accountable if it arrives cold or fails of the box.

In the meantime, a coach's role is increasingly less about defining the vision and more about marketing it: the front-facing representative on the front desk, the public face for a club they can do little to change. A coach at Chelsea takes a squad 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 those individuals who hired him live to blunder indefinitely.

A Neoliberal Football: Accountability Only for the Few

And possibly on some microcosmic level this represents corporate governance at work: the rise of a gilded overclass who are infallible, whose decisions are always sacrosanct, whose mistakes can invariably be resolved by sacking without explanation. Hire the system coach and then fire them for playing too much that system. Bring in the process guy and then discard him for requiring excessive time. And above all be grateful; for the incremental increases in ticket costs, for your new summer signings, for the reality that the grownups – regardless of their expertise – remain in control.