🔗 Share this article

Just a few weeks ago, the Merseyside club appeared destined to claim back-to-back Premier League titles and possibly a further Champions League trophy. The team's ability to secure victories without optimal displays felt like the hallmark of true champions.

However, then the momentum shifted. The Anfield side continued with mediocre showings and started dropping points. Meanwhile, Arsenal, known for their stubborn backline and strength in depth, started narrowing the distance at the top.

Understanding a Crisis in Today's Game

Does three consecutive losses constitute a collapse? Like most sporting discussions, it depends entirely on your definition of the key word. Was the United midfielder world class? How do you define "elite" even mean? Are Aston Villa a big club? What constitutes "major"? Are Manchester United returned to prominence? Alright, maybe that's a question we can settle.

At a team of Liverpool's stature and previous campaign's brilliance, a mini crisis seems a fair description. On a recent radio show, ex- striker Neil Mellor was asked how many losses in a row would cause panic. His reply was six. At present, they are midway to that threshold.

Pinpointing the On-Pitch Problems

One can observe clear tactical problems. Assimilating new signings like Milos Kerkez and Jeremie Frimpong, who provide a distinct style to previous stalwarts Andy Robertson and Trent Alexander-Arnold, presents a challenge. Similarly, blending in a gifted attacking midfielder like Florian Wirtz has reportedly disrupted the engine room. Observers of the Bundesliga point out that Wirtz is a technical talent who elevates those around him, connecting play seamlessly rather than forcing himself on the game.

Furthermore, a number of players who shone last season—including Mo Salah, Ibrahima Konaté, Alexis Mac Allister, and Conor Bradley—are currently underperforming. Actually, the majority of the squad is. Yet every one of them have one profound, fresh event: the tragic death of their colleague and companion, Diogo Jota.

The Unseen Effect: Loss on the Pitch

We are now just over three short months since the tragic loss of their friend. Although the wider world progresses quickly, shifting focus to other events, Liverpool's squad carry on going to work each day without their friend.

It is impossible to know how each player and member of the backroom team is coping from one day to the next. There is a significant amount of projection. Maybe Salah failed to defend in a particular match because he was tired. Or perhaps his form is down a few per cent due to the fact he is grieving for his friend.

The London club's head coach, Enzo Maresca, spoke eloquently before a fixture, making a comparison to his own experience of the loss of a teammate, Antonio Puerta, while at Sevilla. "The way they are doing this season is remarkable," he said of Liverpool. "Especially after the loss. I went through a very similar thing when I was a player two decades past."

"It is difficult for the squad, it's not easy for the organization, it's not easy for the coach when you come to the training ground and you find daily that spot vacant. So you have to be incredibly resilient. And this is the reason why for me they are performing not good, even better than good. Because they are attempting to handle a situation that is not easy."

Just as explained succinctly on a popular supporter's show, the memory triggers are constant. They hear his chant in the first half, they see his empty peg in the changing room. Even during matches, a pass might be made and the realization arises: 'Oh, Diogo would have reached that.' If Salah was seen crying in front of the Kop a matches ago, it indicates that all is far from normal.

The Boundaries of Football Analysis and Personal Grief

After reporting on football for twenty years, one realizes there is a inherent superficiality in the majority of analysis. We genuinely cannot know how an player is feeling at any given moment and how that affects their play. Jota's death is one of the clearest examples. We know a tragic event occurred, and we understand the nature of sorrow. Beyond that lies an intangible level of effect on different people at the organization. It is highly likely that some of the squad themselves don't fully grasp its effect from one moment to the next.

The way the press covers this and how supporters dissect performances is clearly not the primary factor. On a functional level, mentioning Jota's death is challenging to accomplish in a brief soundbite before transitioning to tactical concerns. Beyond this particular tragedy and outside Liverpool, it would seem bizarre to qualify each critique of a footballer with an acknowledgment that we know so little about their personal lives—be it their parental relationships, personal struggles, or relationship difficulties.

An ex- professional footballer, Nedum Onuoha, recently talked on a broadcast about how his mother's passing halfway through his playing days impacted his love for the game. "I lost some joy in football as much," he said. "Some of the highs and the lows that come with it didn't really feel the same any more." And that was half a career; for Liverpool and Jota, it has been just three short months.

The Concluding Thought

So, whatever Liverpool achieve in the coming months—if it's something or if it's nothing—even if we omit reference to it every time we analyze their matches, and even if it is not the sole reason for their final result, we should not forget that a few weeks ago they suffered the loss of not merely a exceptional player, but, crucially, they said goodbye to a friend.