Maya Chen is an HR consultant with over 10 years of experience in performance management and organizational development.
Tbecame clear Ruben Amorim could survive losing against lower-league opposition. He weathered an important European final versus one of the worst Spurs sides for many years. He could survive home defeats against West Ham and Wolves, finishing 15th, the tactical inflexibility, squandering some of the club’s most promising homegrown talent, the 32% win rate, calling the squad the worst in Manchester United history. Yet, there existed one adversary against whom the Portuguese coach was not permitted to dance. If you challenge the sporting director, you had better succeed.
Unfortunately, like many a Premiership defender during Blackburn Rovers' championship 1994-95 season, the coach came at Jason Wilcox and seems to have missed. The most casual observer will notice the irony here: a manager who frequently berated his squad for failing in individual battles crumbling in the face of the white heat and animal charisma of a England's top division's most feared football executives.
And frankly, this entire painful saga seems to paint the director in a whole new light. It may have been tempting, given his nine months in a similar role with the Saints, to regard Jason Wilcox as merely a functionary in the United exoskeleton: a man who owed his position as much to his friendship with ex-colleague a fellow executive rather than any demonstrable skill. How wrong everyone was. In brilliantly outmanoeuvring United’s feted head coach, as he outmanoeuvred the unfortunate a previous executive earlier, Jason Wilcox has proved himself to be among the sport’s true generals: a strategic mind of which the club's competitors will now be rightly wary.
For example, it was Jason Wilcox , after being involved in the leadership that appointed the rigid 3-4-3 advocate the coach originally, was instrumental in attempting to convince Amorim to ditch his favored formation. Unsurprisingly, these pleas met a certain resistance. However, such directives hold greater authority when issued from the mouth with the unimpeachable football pedigree he possesses, holder of international appearances and a role in a title-winning side decades past.
Maybe eventually Jason Wilcox may be persuaded to outline his thought processes publicly. Perhaps at some point he might be asked why Amorim is departing with a full payout, with no penalty clause in place. The director speaks rarely in public, for excellent reasons. The true intellectuals in football – individuals such as him – function on a plane exceeding our prosaic understanding. If he ever did speak, probably all we would hear would be high-frequency signals and four-dimensional whirring. Wanting is not the same as being prepared to receive.
But of course, by focusing our attention on Jason Wilcox we are obscuring the real power behind the modern United throne. The director is, in reality, simply carrying out the directives of his ultimate line manager the billionaire owner, who in private has made very clear his desire for a four-man defense. It is reported, the owner has also suggested deploying the forward as a right wing-back. Ratcliffe is keen for United to adopt data science and metrics. Per reports, during a leadership summit soon after his minority ownership, he declared that United’s style to football “will be determined by this group”.
After all, Ratcliffe is an expert in these intricate football matters, leveraging his background in industry and yachting. Above all he is immensely wealthy, and it is known, the rich are the best of us: more insightful, sagacious, more tactically astute, simply better. Who else would you trust to oversee a strategic plan of cost-cutting, the building of a new stadium that looks a lot like an abstract design, the signing of Benjamin Sesko?
This is a trend we are increasingly seeing at the elite levels of the game. Historically, teams mistakenly delegated big footballing decisions to low-level employees like managers, talent spotters – even footballers. Maybe previously feasible for an up-and-coming, innovative manager with a philosophy and energy to join a club and implement their plan through to completion. But how many businesses have such individuals set up? How many mass redundancies have they overseen? Better by far to invest genuine authority where it rightly belongs: the leadership tier, the casually dressed executives, the guys with the jaw-dropping professional resumes. Better by far to decide the strategy in the boardroom and hire someone who can tailor their methods accordingly. If coaches were once chefs, they are now more akin to Deliveroo drivers: not really responsible for the food, but still finally accountable should it be delivered poorly or leaks out to meet standards.
In the meantime, their job is increasingly not about crafting the philosophy and more about selling it: the front-facing representative of the operation, the public face of an organisation they can do little to influence. A coach at Chelsea takes a squad of literal children into Europe and wins two medium-sized trophies, and essentially gets sacked for speaking out. Wilfried Nancy finds his standing damaged whereas those individuals who hired him continue to make errors indefinitely.
And possibly on some microcosmic level this is simply neoliberalism in action: the elevation of a gilded overclass who can never be wrong, whose decisions are always untouchable, whose mistakes can invariably be resolved by sacking without justification. Appoint the system coach and then dismiss them for playing too much that system. Bring in the project manager and then discard them for requiring excessive time. And most importantly show gratitude; for the incremental increases in ticket costs, for the latest player acquisitions, for the fact that the grownups – regardless of their expertise – are in charge.
Maya Chen is an HR consultant with over 10 years of experience in performance management and organizational development.