The Coach's Critical Error? Challenging The Executives and the Unassailable Executive Tier
Turns out Ruben Amorim could survive a loss to lower-league opposition. He weathered a decisive European final versus one of the worst Spurs sides for many years. He could survive home defeats to West Ham and Wolves, a lowly league position, the tactical inflexibility, squandering the team's best academy products, a poor winning percentage, labeling his team the worst in Manchester United history. Yet, there existed a single opponent against whom the Portuguese coach was not permitted to engage. You come at the sporting director, and you best not miss.
Unfortunately, like many a top-flight defender during Blackburn Rovers' title-winning 1994-95 season, the coach came at Jason Wilcox and seems to have missed. The most casual observer will notice the paradoxical situation: a manager who frequently berated at his players for losing individual battles crumbling when confronted by the white heat and animal charisma of one of the Premier League’s most intimidating football executives.
In truth, this whole painful saga appears to portray the director in a different perspective. Perhaps it might have been tempting, based on his brief stint of experience with the Saints, to regard Jason Wilcox as merely a functionary within the club's structure: a man who owed his position as much to his close relationship with his former boss a fellow executive as any verifiable talent. How mistaken we all were. By masterfully outsmarting the club's celebrated head coach, as he outmanoeuvred the unfortunate Dan Ashworth before him, Jason Wilcox has proved himself to be among the sport’s strategic masterminds: a tactical intellect that the club's competitors are now rightly wary.
The Strategic Conflict Regarding Formation and Ideology
For example, it was Jason Wilcox who having been part of the leadership that hired the rigid 3-4-3 advocate the coach originally, was instrumental in attempting to convince Amorim to ditch his favored 3-4-3. Naturally, these entreaties were resisted. But perhaps these judgements carry more weight when delivered by a man of a man the unimpeachable football pedigree he possesses, a veteran of three England caps and a contributor to a championship team decades past.
Maybe eventually he may be persuaded to explain his thought processes to the rest of us. Maybe one day he might be asked regarding why the coach is departing with full compensation, with no compensation reduction clause activated. The director speaks rarely publicly, and with very good reason. The real thinkers of this sport – individuals such as him – simply operate at a level exceeding our mundane comprehension. If he ever did speak, probably all we would hear would be high-frequency signals and four-dimensional whirring. Desiring an explanation is not the same as being prepared to receive.
An Ultimate Power In Command
Naturally, by focusing our attention on Jason Wilcox we are obscuring the real power behind the modern United throne. The director is, in reality, 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 deploying the forward in a wing-back role. Ratcliffe is keen for United to embrace data science and analytics. Per reports, during a leadership summit soon after his minority ownership, he announced that United’s style of play “will be determined by this group”.
After all, Ratcliffe is an expert in this technical football matters, drawing from his previous experience in industry and sailing. Most importantly he is immensely wealthy, and it is known, the wealthy are superior: more insightful, sagacious, more tactically astute, fundamentally better. Who else could one trust to manage a strategic plan of austerity, the construction of a modern arena that looks similar to an abstract design, the signing of Benjamin Sesko?
The Modern Soccer Hierarchy: Executives Above Coaches
This is a trend that is becoming prevalent at the elite levels of the game. For decades, teams mistakenly entrusted big footballing decisions to subordinate staff like managers, talent spotters – players themselves. Perhaps it was once feasible for a young, visionary coach with a philosophy and energy to go into an organization and see their vision supported to fruition. Yet how many businesses have such individuals set up? How many large-scale layoffs have they managed? Better by far to place the real power where it belongs: the leadership tier, the casually dressed executives, the guys with impressive LinkedIn profiles. Better by far to decide the strategy by the directors and appoint a coach who can tailor their methods to suit. If managers were formerly chefs, they are now more like Deliveroo drivers: not creating the food, yet ultimately answerable should it be delivered poorly or fails of the box.
In the meantime, a coach's role is increasingly not about defining the vision and more about selling it: the front-facing representative of the operation, the visible figurehead for a club they can do little to change. A coach at Chelsea leads a team of very young players into Europe and secures domestic cups, and effectively is dismissed for talking. A manager at Celtic finds his reputation ruined while those individuals who hired him live to blunder indefinitely.
A Neoliberal Game: Accountability for the Coaches
And perhaps in a small way this is simply corporate governance at work: the elevation of a privileged overclass who are infallible, whose decisions are always untouchable, whose mistakes can always be sacked away without justification. Hire the system coach and then fire them for using too much 3-4-3. Bring in the process guy and then discard him for requiring too long. And most importantly show gratitude; for your modest increases in ticket costs, for the latest player acquisitions, for the fact that the grownups – however well qualified – remain in control.