Manchester United's latest managerial exit is a stark reminder of the power dynamics at play within football's elite. The club's decision to part ways with Ruben Amorim, a coach who had survived several high-profile setbacks, was only made possible by one individual: Jason Wilcox, the club's sporting director.
Wilcox's actions have been hailed as bold and strategic, outmanoeuvring United's head coach and ultimately deciding his fate. However, this narrative obscures a more sinister reality. Behind every successful footballing decision lies a team of advisors, executives, and board members, all pulling the strings from behind the scenes.
At Manchester United, Sir Jim Ratcliffe holds court, the true mastermind behind the club's tactical decisions. His preference for a back four has been repeatedly stated in private meetings, with Bryan Mbeumo being touted as a potential right wing-back. This decision is not made by Amorim or Wilcox alone but rather by Ratcliffe and his inner circle.
This pattern of power consolidation is becoming increasingly common at the top levels of football. Clubs are no longer content to empower their managers and coaches, instead entrusting high-level decision-making to executives with experience in business and petrochemicals. The likes of Sir Jim Ratcliffe – a man more familiar with sailing than soccer – believe they possess the expertise to oversee an enlightened programme of cost-cutting, stadium construction, and player signings.
In reality, this trend represents a worrying shift towards neoliberalism in football. The elevation of a gilded overclass who are perceived as infallible has led to a culture where mistakes can be easily sacked away without explanation. The 'executive class' – comprising coaches, scouts, and even footballers – is now seen as a mere delivery mechanism for the vision of these powerful individuals.
The notion that Jason Wilcox's actions were truly autonomous is a myth. He was merely carrying out the commands of his ultimate line manager, Sir Jim Ratcliffe. The fact that United's style of play will be determined in an executive meeting – with data science and analytics playing a significant role – highlights the true extent of this power imbalance.
Ultimately, the relegation of Ruben Amorim serves as a stark reminder that, at the top levels of football, it is not the coaches or managers who hold the reins but rather those with the deep pockets and expertise to shape the game.
Wilcox's actions have been hailed as bold and strategic, outmanoeuvring United's head coach and ultimately deciding his fate. However, this narrative obscures a more sinister reality. Behind every successful footballing decision lies a team of advisors, executives, and board members, all pulling the strings from behind the scenes.
At Manchester United, Sir Jim Ratcliffe holds court, the true mastermind behind the club's tactical decisions. His preference for a back four has been repeatedly stated in private meetings, with Bryan Mbeumo being touted as a potential right wing-back. This decision is not made by Amorim or Wilcox alone but rather by Ratcliffe and his inner circle.
This pattern of power consolidation is becoming increasingly common at the top levels of football. Clubs are no longer content to empower their managers and coaches, instead entrusting high-level decision-making to executives with experience in business and petrochemicals. The likes of Sir Jim Ratcliffe – a man more familiar with sailing than soccer – believe they possess the expertise to oversee an enlightened programme of cost-cutting, stadium construction, and player signings.
In reality, this trend represents a worrying shift towards neoliberalism in football. The elevation of a gilded overclass who are perceived as infallible has led to a culture where mistakes can be easily sacked away without explanation. The 'executive class' – comprising coaches, scouts, and even footballers – is now seen as a mere delivery mechanism for the vision of these powerful individuals.
The notion that Jason Wilcox's actions were truly autonomous is a myth. He was merely carrying out the commands of his ultimate line manager, Sir Jim Ratcliffe. The fact that United's style of play will be determined in an executive meeting – with data science and analytics playing a significant role – highlights the true extent of this power imbalance.
Ultimately, the relegation of Ruben Amorim serves as a stark reminder that, at the top levels of football, it is not the coaches or managers who hold the reins but rather those with the deep pockets and expertise to shape the game.