Marieke is a Dutch journalist and photographer who has been documenting street culture across Europe for over a decade.
Iturns out he could survive defeat by lower-league opposition. He weathered a decisive continental showpiece versus a particularly poor Tottenham teams for many years. He withstood losing at home against domestic rivals, finishing 15th, his rigid approach, undermining the team's most promising academy products, a poor winning percentage, calling the squad the poorest in Manchester United history. Yet, there existed a single opponent against whom the Portuguese coach was not permitted to tango. If you challenge Jason Wilcox, and you best not miss.
Unfortunately, like many a Premiership defender in Blackburn’s title-winning campaign, the coach took on Jason Wilcox and seems to have missed. The most distracted of readers can see the irony here: a manager who often railed at his players for losing individual battles crumbling when confronted by the intense pressure and formidable presence of one of England's top division's most feared sporting directors.
In truth, this whole painful saga seems to paint Jason Wilcox in a different perspective. It may have been easy, given his brief stint of experience with the Saints, to regard Jason Wilcox as merely a drudge within the club's structure: an individual who owed his position largely to his close relationship with ex-colleague a fellow executive as any demonstrable skill. How mistaken we all were. By masterfully outsmarting the club's celebrated manager, as he outmanoeuvred the hapless Dan Ashworth earlier, he has proved himself as one of football's strategic masterminds: a strategic mind that United’s competitors will now be rightly wary.
To illustrate, it was the director , after having been part of the leadership that appointed the 3-4-3 fundamentalist Amorim in the first place, played a key role in attempting to convince him to ditch his favored 3-4-3. Naturally, these entreaties met a certain resistance. However, such directives hold greater authority when issued from the mouth with the impeccable soccer background he possesses, a veteran of three England caps and a contributor to a championship team decades past.
Maybe eventually Jason Wilcox may be persuaded 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, with no penalty clause in place. But Jason Wilcox speaks rarely in public, and with very good reason. The true intellectuals in football – men like Jason Wilcox – simply operate on a plane exceeding our mundane comprehension. Were he to speak, most likely all we would hear is a series of high-frequency signals and four-dimensional whirring. Wanting is not the same as being prepared to comprehend it.
Naturally, in training our focus on the sporting director we are obscuring the real power behind the club's current leadership. The director is, in reality, simply carrying out the directives of his ultimate superior Sir Jim Ratcliffe, who in private has emphasized his desire for a back four. According to reports, Ratcliffe has also suggested deploying the forward as a right wing-back. The owner is eager for the club to embrace analytics and metrics. Per reports, during a leadership summit early in his investment, he declared that the team's approach of play “shall be determined in this room”.
Ultimately, Sir Jim is a specialist in these intricate football matters, leveraging his previous experience in industry and sailing. Above all he remains immensely wealthy, and it is known, the wealthy are the best of us: more perceptive, more wise, more tactically astute, fundamentally superior. Who else could one trust to oversee an enlightened programme of cost-cutting, the building of a modern arena that looks a lot like someone’s leftover knitting, the signing of a new striker?
This represents a shift we are increasingly seeing in top-tier of the game. For decades, clubs foolishly entrusted major sporting choices to low-level employees such as coaches, scouts – even footballers. Perhaps it was once feasible for an up-and-coming, innovative manager with ideas and drive to go into an organization and see their vision supported to fruition. Yet how many companies have such individuals established? How many large-scale layoffs have they managed? Better by far to invest the real power where it belongs: the leadership tier, the casually dressed executives, the individuals with the jaw-dropping LinkedIn profiles. It is wiser to determine the tactics by the directors and hire someone who can tailor their methods to suit. If coaches were once chefs, they have become more akin to Deliveroo drivers: not creating the food, yet finally accountable should it be delivered cold or fails of the box.
Nowadays, their job has become less about crafting the philosophy and more about selling it: the front-facing representative of the operation, the visible figurehead for a club they have minimal power to change. Enzo Maresca leads a team of very young players into Europe and wins two medium-sized trophies, and essentially gets sacked for talking. Wilfried Nancy finds his reputation ruined while the people who appointed him continue to make errors another day.
And possibly in a small way this is simply corporate governance at work: the rise of a privileged elite who can never be wrong, whose choices remain sacrosanct, whose errors can invariably be resolved by sacking without explanation. Appoint the 3-4-3 coach only to dismiss them for playing too much 3-4-3. Bring in the project manager and then discard them for requiring too long. And most importantly show gratitude; for the incremental increases in ticket costs, for your new player acquisitions, for the reality that the grownups – regardless of their expertise – remain in control.
Marieke is a Dutch journalist and photographer who has been documenting street culture across Europe for over a decade.