🔗 Share this article

Tbecame clear Ruben Amorim was able to withstand a loss to lower-league opposition. He weathered losing a crucial European final against one of the worst Tottenham teams for many years. He could survive losing at home against domestic rivals, finishing 15th, an unwavering system, undermining some of the club’s most promising homegrown talent, a poor winning percentage, labeling the squad the worst the club has ever seen. But there was one adversary with whom Ruben Amorim was not permitted to tango. You come at Jason Wilcox, you had better succeed.

Regrettably, like many a Premiership defender in Blackburn’s championship 1994-95 season, the coach came at Jason Wilcox and seems to have failed. Even the most casual observer will notice the irony here: a coach who frequently berated his squad for failing in one-on-one duels succumbing when confronted by the intense pressure and animal charisma of a the Premier League’s most intimidating football executives.

In truth, this whole bruising episode seems to paint Jason Wilcox in a different perspective. It may have been tempting, based on his brief stint in a similar role at Southampton, to regard Jason Wilcox as merely a drudge within the club's structure: a man who owed his position largely to his close relationship with ex-colleague Omar Berrada rather than any demonstrable skill. How mistaken we all were. In brilliantly outmanoeuvring United’s feted manager, as he outmanoeuvred the unfortunate Dan Ashworth earlier, he has demonstrated to be among football's strategic masterminds: a strategic mind of which the club's competitors will now be justifiably concerned.

The Tactical Clash Over Formation & Ideology

To illustrate, it was Jason Wilcox , after 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 Amorim to ditch his beloved formation. Naturally, these pleas faced pushback. However, such directives carry more weight when delivered by a man of a man the unimpeachable football pedigree of Jason Wilcox, holder of three England caps and a role in a title-winning side from 31 years ago.

Perhaps in time he might agree to outline his thought processes to the rest of us. Maybe one day questions may arise why Amorim is walking away with a full payout, without any penalty clause activated. But Jason Wilcox seldom speaks publicly, and with very good reason. The true intellectuals in football – individuals such as him – simply operate on a plane exceeding our mundane comprehension. If he ever did speak, probably we would perceive is a series of high-frequency signals and four-dimensional whirring. Wanting is not quite the same as being prepared to comprehend it.

An Ultimate Authority Behind the Throne

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 commands of his ultimate line manager the billionaire owner, who privately has made very clear his preference for a back four. According to reports, Ratcliffe has also proposed deploying the forward as a right wing-back. The owner is eager for the club to adopt data science and metrics. Per reports, during a leadership summit early in his investment, he declared that the team's approach of play “will be decided in this room”.

After all, Sir Jim is a specialist in this technical football matters, drawing from his background in industry and sailing. Above all he is incredibly rich, and it is known, the wealthy are the best of us: more insightful, sagacious, more tactically astute, simply superior. Whom else would you trust to oversee an enlightened programme of austerity, the building of a modern arena that looks similar to someone’s leftover knitting, the acquisition of Benjamin Sesko?

The New Football Order: Executives Above Managers

This represents a shift we are increasingly seeing in top-tier football. Historically, clubs foolishly entrusted major sporting choices to low-level employees such as coaches, scouts – players themselves. Maybe previously possible for a young, visionary coach with a philosophy and energy to go into a club and see their vision through to completion. Yet how many businesses have these guys set up? How many large-scale layoffs have they managed? Better by far to place genuine authority where it belongs: the executive class, the casually dressed executives, the guys with impressive LinkedIn profiles. Better by far to determine the tactics in the boardroom and appoint someone who can tailor their methods accordingly. If coaches were formerly chefs, they are now more akin to Deliveroo drivers: not creating the food, yet finally accountable should it be delivered poorly or fails of the box.

In the meantime, their job has become 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. A coach at Chelsea leads a team of very young players into Europe and wins domestic cups, and effectively gets sacked for speaking out. A manager at Celtic finds his reputation ruined while the people who appointed him live to blunder indefinitely.

The Modern Corporate Football: Responsibility for the Few

And perhaps on some microcosmic level this represents corporate governance in action: the elevation of a privileged elite who are infallible, whose decisions are always untouchable, whose mistakes can invariably be resolved by sacking without explanation. Hire the 3-4-3 coach only to fire them for using too much that system. Hire the process guy and later bin them for taking excessive time. And most importantly be grateful; for the incremental season ticket price rises, for the latest player acquisitions, for the fact that the grownups – regardless of their expertise – are in charge.