Because, although the broad structure has now been standard in the Premier League for over a decade, there is no uniform approach.
The analysis-driven background of Michael Edwards-type figures is very different from the more instinctive approach of Dougie Freedman, widely respected at Crystal Palace, to take two of the most internationally admired names. In between, though, there is a lot of vagueness and blurred lines.
And that is because the actual culture is still nowhere near as defined as in Italy, Spain or Germany. Industry figures who have worked in those countries as well as the Premier League are adamant that the English game is still figuring out the remit of the position.
The role just doesn’t fit in the same way as at continental clubs, where it’s clear what such directors do. Broadly speaking, they set the football culture and make all recruitment decisions.
Italy, as the most prominent example, requires coaches to study at Coverciano and earn their licence. In England, one experienced figure bemoans how some university courses have “a real National Vocational Qualification feel”.
“Nobody fails, and most of the people in the graduation photos aren’t in top jobs.”
Hence the lack of uniformity in the Premier League. And, although English football has been moving away from the manager model for 15 years, the fact it is such a historically profound part of the culture means it still dictates perceptions of the sporting director too.
This is partly why it often feels like the old manager role has just been split into two: the head coach taking most of the on-pitch responsibilities, and the sporting director taking most of the off-pitch work.
A further tension arises, however, because it is the head coach who bears all the responsibility. They are the only figure contractually obliged to speak publicly on a regular basis, and they must address everything, even matters well outside their remit – such as transfers.
On the continent, it is common for sporting directors to hold press conferences or explain major decisions on the record.
This contrast runs alongside English clubs’ apparent aversion to ever really publicly explaining strategy.
That is how you have a situation where Amorim has to discuss United’s attacking issues, but cannot go into detail about how he would have preferred Ollie Watkins over Benjamin Sesko. Is it a coincidence the latter story came to light this week?
Another tension comes from the fact that the very nature of being a head coach involves specific personality types. It is a bit like politics, especially given how public-facing the role is. Coaches tend to have more pronounced egos than other jobs – not arrogance, but a well-defined sense of self, judged by a very public record of results.
They then find themselves in situations where other people’s work reflects on them.
That inevitably leads to clashes in a world that involves – as one CEO describes – “administrators trying to become dealmakers”. One source even cites Apocalypse Now: “errand boys, sent by grocery clerks, to collect a bill.”
The effects of this can even be seen in more established sporting director cultures. One famous story is Rafa Benitez’s complaint that Valencia had bought him a lampshade when he needed a sofa – and it is telling that he immediately sought control of transfers at Liverpool.
There is also Antonio Conte, who famously lambasted Juventus’ ambition. The difference is that those disputes occurred within clearly defined roles. It wasn’t that they opposed the sporting director role itself, but disagreed on who to bring in and their outlook.
Even at a generally well-run club like Liverpool, sporting figures have left because they couldn’t handle Jurgen Klopp, with some only returning once he departed.
As numerous sources note, many sporting directors want coaches who will do what they are told – but coaching by nature involves personalities who assume control.
The Premier League, of course, has some very successful models, though it is notable that most of these have seen head coaches evolve into managers.
Even Manchester City – an example others try to emulate – have been greatly aided by the fact that Pep Guardiola and former sporting director Txiki Begiristain were old teammates and close friends, with Guardiola feeling a debt of gratitude for being given his first chance. It has similarly aided Begiristain’s work that he has overseen City’s immense budget. They can buy Omar Marmoush in one January, and if that doesn’t work out, move on to Antoine Semenyo the next.
There has nevertheless been a properly collaborative approach, echoed at Arsenal. Mikel Arteta was elevated to manager in 2020 as part of a new “Football Leadership Team” in which he and sporting director Edu sat as equals. That model persists under Andrea Berta.
It is little wonder these clubs are currently among Europe’s best sides, even allowing for recent form.
This is a world still finding its own form.
