Football has created a remarkable role for individuals seeking power without the accompanying stress. This role is known as the sporting director.

The sporting director is responsible for gathering the squad, selecting transfer targets, and deciding which players are deemed £50 million worthy.

Meanwhile, the manager is tasked with transforming these players into a cohesive team, securing victories, and explaining any failures.

When experiments fail, it is often the manager who pays the price. This arrangement works out quite well, especially for the sporting director.

At Manchester United, Jason Wilcox is under scrutiny, while manager Michael Carrick must strive to achieve results with the current roster.

The familiar question arises: Who holds the responsibility for the football when the individual recruiting the players isn’t the one selecting the team?

The departure of Ruben Amorim from Old Trafford highlighted this issue.

He aspired to be the manager of Manchester United, not just a coach, and openly expressed his dissatisfaction with the club’s leadership.

His successor faces the same critical question. While Carrick can coach, motivate, and organize, he cannot create players out of thin air.

Modern football necessitates a solid structure. No prudent club should assign all transfer responsibilities to a single individual, no matter how impressive their background.

BEST ONLINE CASINOS – TOP SITES IN THE UK

Managers come and go; player contracts endure. Rebuilding recruitment every time a new manager is appointed isn’t a sustainable strategy; it’s merely an expensive cycle.

Conversely, this situation poses significant risks. A sporting director cannot demand control over recruitment while avoiding accountability when things go awry.

I have witnessed how this can unfold. Tim Steidten joined West Ham in 2023 to modernize recruitment but found himself at odds with David Moyes, who had led the team to three consecutive top-ten finishes and a European trophy.

Moyes justifiably desired input on signings, while Steidten favored a director-led model. By May 2024, their relationship had deteriorated to the point that Steidten was instructed to avoid first-team areas.

Moyes departed that summer, Julen Lopetegui took over, the club invested heavily, and the dysfunction reemerged. Lopetegui was dismissed in January 2025, and Steidten exited as well.

Two managers, two breakdowns, one sporting director.

At some point, the focus should shift from blaming the person in the dugout to questioning the one accountable for recruitment. Ironically, sporting directors are meant to provide stability, yet West Ham failed at this.

Recruitment isn’t deemed successful simply because new signings appear impressive on a private jet or a spreadsheet forecasts their resale value to rise.

True success stems from players who enhance the team, fulfill the manager’s requirements, and perform on the pitch.

Consider Brighton. They have sold some of their best players for significant fees yet continue to find ways to compete at the top of the table.

Their secret is not a series of fortunate guesses but rather a recruitment model grounded in data, long-term strategy, and a clear football philosophy.

Tony Bloom’s widely discussed algorithm aids in identifying talent, but numbers alone don’t build a team.

Human judgment remains crucial. Brighton illustrates what occurs when recruitment is a strategic priority rather than a battle for power.

Sporting directors and managers need to share responsibilities, possess clear authority, have a common vision, and establish mutual trust.

If a fundamental disagreement about recruitment arises, the owners must intervene before the training ground turns into a conflict zone.

United serves as a reminder that grand titles and organizational frameworks cannot replace sound judgment.

West Ham exemplifies that merely changing the manager won’t necessarily resolve the issue.

Football frequently discusses projects, long-term strategies, and modern frameworks.

All of these concepts are rational. However, a structure is only as effective as the individuals managing it — and someone must be accountable for the results.

A sporting director cannot take credit for assembling a squad while leaving the manager to bear the responsibility for any shortcomings.

Likewise, a manager cannot demand total control and shift blame onto others when their decisions fail.

There is space for both roles, but no room for two competing football departments within the same club, each convinced of their own superiority.

When the partnership succeeds, the club thrives. When it falters, the supporters suffer the consequences, and owners discover that the most costly role in football might be the one that remains difficult to define.

The ultimate challenge for a sporting director isn’t how many players they sign or how cleverly they articulate their vision.

It’s whether they cultivate a club capable of achieving success beyond any single manager’s tenure.

Anything less is simply a costly way to shift blame around.