A tech journalist and digital strategist with over a decade of experience covering emerging technologies and their impact on society.
Tbecame clear Ruben Amorim endured losing against Grimsby. He weathered a decisive European final versus a particularly poor Spurs sides in living memory. He could survive losing at home to West Ham and Wolves, finishing 15th, the tactical inflexibility, squandering the team's most promising homegrown talent, a poor winning percentage, labeling his team the poorest the club has ever seen. Yet, there existed one adversary against whom Ruben Amorim was not permitted to tango. If you challenge the sporting director, and you best not miss.
Unfortunately, similar to numerous top-flight defender during Blackburn Rovers' title-winning 1994-95 season, Amorim took on Jason Wilcox and seems to have failed. Even the most distracted of readers can see the irony here: a manager who often railed at his players for failing in individual battles crumbling when confronted by the white heat and formidable presence of one of England's top division's most feared football executives.
And frankly, this whole painful saga seems to paint the director in a different perspective. It may have been easy, given his brief stint of experience at Southampton, to regard Jason Wilcox as merely a drudge within the club's structure: an individual whose appointment was due largely to his friendship with ex-colleague a fellow executive as any verifiable talent. How wrong we all were. By masterfully outsmarting United’s feted manager, as he outmanoeuvred the hapless a previous executive earlier, he has demonstrated as one of football's strategic masterminds: a tactical intellect of which United’s mid-table rivals will now be rightly wary.
To illustrate, this was the director , after having been part of the leadership that appointed the rigid 3-4-3 advocate Amorim in the first place, played a key role in attempting to convince him to abandon his favored formation. Unsurprisingly, these entreaties faced pushback. But perhaps these judgements carry more weight when issued by a man with the impeccable soccer background he possesses, a veteran of international appearances and a contributor to a title-winning side from 31 years ago.
Perhaps in time Jason Wilcox might agree to outline his thought processes publicly. Maybe one day he might be asked why Amorim is walking away with full compensation, without any penalty clause activated. But Jason Wilcox seldom speaks in public, and with very good reason. The true intellectuals in football – individuals such as Jason Wilcox – function at a level exceeding our prosaic understanding. If he ever did speak, probably we would perceive would be high-frequency signals and complex calculations. Wanting is not quite equivalent to being ready to receive.
But of course, in training our focus on Jason Wilcox we overlook the real power behind the modern United throne. The director is, after all, merely executing the commands of his ultimate line manager Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who privately has emphasized his preference for a four-man defense. According to reports, Ratcliffe has also suggested deploying the forward as a right wing-back. Ratcliffe is keen for United to adopt data science and analytics. Per reports, during a leadership summit early in his investment, he announced that the team's approach to football “will be decided in this room”.
Ultimately, Ratcliffe is a specialist in these intricate footballing stuff, drawing from his background in petrochemicals and sailing. Most importantly he remains incredibly rich, and as we all know, the wealthy are superior: more insightful, more wise, more tactically astute, simply better. Who else would you trust to oversee an enlightened programme of austerity, the construction of a new stadium that appears a lot like an abstract design, the acquisition of Benjamin Sesko?
This represents a shift that is becoming prevalent in top-tier football. Historically, clubs foolishly entrusted major sporting choices to low-level employees like managers, talent spotters – even footballers. Perhaps it was once possible for a young, innovative manager with a philosophy and drive to go into an organization and see their vision supported to fruition. Yet how many businesses have such individuals set up? What number of large-scale layoffs have they overseen? Far preferable to invest the real power where it belongs: the executive class, the casually dressed executives, the guys with impressive LinkedIn profiles. Better by far to decide the tactics by the directors and appoint a coach who can tailor their offering to suit. If coaches were formerly chefs, they are now more akin to delivery personnel: not really responsible for the food, but still finally accountable should it be delivered poorly or fails of the box.
In the meantime, a coach's role has become not about crafting the philosophy and more about marketing it: the receptionist of the operation, the visible figurehead of an organisation they can do little to influence. Enzo Maresca leads a team of very young players into Europe and wins two medium-sized trophies, and effectively is dismissed for talking. A manager at Celtic finds his standing damaged while the people who hired him continue to make errors another day.
And possibly on some microcosmic level this is simply neoliberalism at work: the elevation of a gilded overclass who can never be wrong, whose decisions remain untouchable, whose errors can always be sacked away without explanation. Appoint the system coach and then dismiss him for using too much 3-4-3. Bring in the process guy and then bin them for taking too long. And above all be grateful; for the incremental season ticket price rises, for your new player acquisitions, for the fact that the adults – regardless of their expertise – remain in control.
A tech journalist and digital strategist with over a decade of experience covering emerging technologies and their impact on society.