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- By Tracy Summers
- 10 Sep 2026
Itranspired Ruben Amorim was able to withstand defeat by Grimsby. He weathered an important European final against a particularly poor Spurs sides in living memory. He could survive home defeats against West Ham and Wolves, finishing 15th, an unwavering system, squandering the team's best homegrown talent, a poor winning percentage, labeling his team the worst the club has ever seen. Yet, there existed a single opponent against whom Ruben Amorim was not permitted to dance. You come at Jason Wilcox, and you best not miss.
Regrettably, like many a Premiership defender during Blackburn Rovers' championship 1994-95 season, the coach came at Jason Wilcox and appears to have failed. The most casual observer will notice the irony here: a manager who frequently berated his squad for losing individual battles crumbling in the face of the intense pressure and formidable presence of one of England's top division's most intimidating sporting directors.
In truth, this entire painful saga seems to paint the director in a different perspective. It may have been easy, given his nine months in a similar role with the Saints, to regard Jason Wilcox as little more than a functionary in the United exoskeleton: a man who owed his position as much to his close relationship with his former boss Omar Berrada rather than any verifiable talent. How wrong everyone was. By masterfully outmanoeuvring United’s feted head coach, as he outmanoeuvred the hapless a previous executive before him, he has proved himself as one of football's true generals: a strategic mind that United’s competitors will now be justifiably concerned.
To illustrate, this was Jason Wilcox who having been part of the leadership that hired the 3-4-3 fundamentalist the coach in the first place, was instrumental in trying to persuade him to abandon his beloved formation. Unsurprisingly, these entreaties faced pushback. But perhaps these judgements hold greater authority when issued by a man of a man the unimpeachable soccer background he possesses, a veteran of three England caps and a contributor to a title-winning side from 31 years ago.
Maybe eventually Jason Wilcox might agree to explain his thought processes to the rest of us. Perhaps at some point he might be asked regarding why the coach is departing with full compensation, without any compensation reduction clause in place. The director seldom speaks publicly, and with very good reason. The true intellectuals in football – men like him – simply operate on a plane beyond our own prosaic understanding. Were he to speak, most likely all we would hear is a series of high-frequency signals and four-dimensional whirring. Desiring an explanation is not equivalent to being ready to receive.
Naturally, by focusing our attention on Jason Wilcox we overlook the true genius behind the club's current leadership. The director is, after all, simply carrying out the directives of his ultimate line manager the billionaire owner, who privately 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 the club to adopt data science and metrics. Per reports, during a leadership summit early in his minority ownership, he announced that the team's approach of play “will be decided in this room”.
Ultimately, Ratcliffe is an expert in these intricate football matters, drawing from his background in industry and yachting. Most importantly he remains incredibly rich, and as we all know, the rich are superior: more perceptive, more wise, more tactically astute, simply better. Whom else would you trust to manage a strategic plan of cost-cutting, the construction of a modern arena that looks similar to someone’s leftover knitting, the acquisition of a new striker?
This is a trend that is becoming prevalent in top-tier of the game. For decades, clubs foolishly delegated big footballing decisions to subordinate staff like managers, talent spotters – players themselves. Perhaps it was once possible for an up-and-coming, visionary coach with ideas and drive to go into an organization and implement their plan through to completion. But how many companies have such individuals established? What number of mass redundancies have they managed? Far preferable to place the real power where it rightly belongs: the leadership tier, the open-necked shirt brigade, the individuals with the jaw-dropping professional resumes. It is wiser to determine the strategy by the directors and hire someone who will adapt their offering accordingly. If coaches were once chefs, they have become more akin to delivery personnel: not responsible for the food, yet ultimately answerable if it arrives cold or fails of the box.
Nowadays, a coach's role has become not about defining the vision and more about marketing it: the front-facing representative of the operation, the public face for a club they can do little to influence. Enzo Maresca takes a squad of very young players into Europe and wins two medium-sized trophies, and essentially gets sacked for talking. A manager at Celtic sees his standing damaged whereas those individuals who appointed him live to blunder indefinitely.
And perhaps on some microcosmic level this is simply neoliberalism at work: the elevation of a gilded overclass who can never be wrong, whose decisions are always untouchable, whose mistakes can invariably be sacked away without justification. Appoint the system coach only to dismiss him for using too much that system. Bring in the process guy and then bin them for requiring too long. And most importantly show gratitude; for your modest increases in ticket costs, for your new summer signings, for the fact that the adults – however well qualified – are in charge.
Elara Voss is a cultural anthropologist and freelance writer, passionate about uncovering human stories that bridge divides.