Just a few weeks ago, the Merseyside club appeared destined to claim back-to-back Premier League championships and possibly another Champions League trophy. Their ability to secure victories despite not optimal displays seemed like the mark of genuine champions.
However, then the momentum turned. The Anfield side continued with mediocre showings and started dropping points. At the same time, Arsenal, known for their stubborn backline and squad depth, started narrowing the distance at the summit.
Can three consecutive defeats constitute a crisis? As with most football debates, it depends completely on your definition of the central word. Was the United midfielder world class? What does "world class" actually mean? Is the Birmingham club a big club? What constitutes "big"? Are Manchester United returned to prominence? Well, perhaps that is one we can answer.
At a team of Liverpool's stature and previous campaign's brilliance, a mini crisis appears a reasonable assessment. On a recent broadcast, former striker Neil Mellor was questioned how many defeats in a row would cause alarm. His answer was six. Currently, they are halfway to that threshold.
One can observe obvious tactical issues. Integrating recent additions like Milos Kerkez and Jeremie Frimpong, who offer a distinct skill set to departed stalwarts Andy Robertson and Trent Alexander-Arnold, presents a challenge. Similarly, incorporating a talented attacking midfielder like Florian Wirtz has reportedly disrupted the engine room. Experts of the Bundesliga note that Wirtz is a technical player who elevates those beside him, connecting play seamlessly rather than forcing himself upon the game.
Furthermore, a number of players who shone last season—such as Mo Salah, Ibrahima Konaté, Alexis Mac Allister, and Conor Bradley—are currently below their best. In fact, most of the team is. And they all share one significant, recent experience: the passing of their teammate and companion, Diogo Jota.
It has been just more than three months since the tragic passing of their teammate. Although the wider world moves on rapidly, diverting focus to global matters, Liverpool's players continue going to work day after day without their friend.
It is not possible to gauge how every individual and staff member is coping from one day to the next. There is a significant amount of speculation. Maybe Salah failed to defend in a particular match because he was tired. But maybe his form is down a few percentage points because he misses his pal.
Chelsea's head coach, Enzo Maresca, spoke insightfully before a fixture, drawing a comparison to his own experience of losing a fellow player, Antonio Puerta, when at Sevilla. "How they are doing this campaign is remarkable," he said of Liverpool. "Especially after the tragedy. I lived exactly the same experience when I was a player 20 years ago."
"It is difficult for the squad, it's not easy for the organization, it's not easy for the manager when you come to the training complex and you find every day that place vacant. So you must be very strong. And this is the reason why for me they are performing not well, but exceptionally well. Because they are attempting to deal with a situation that is not easy."
Just as summarized succinctly on a popular supporter's show, the reminders are ongoing. The players hear his song in the first half, they notice his unused locker in the dressing room. In the middle of games, a through ball might be played and the thought arises: 'Oh, Jota would have reached that.' When the Egyptian showed emotion in front of the Kop a matches ago, it indicates that everything is far from normal.
After covering football for twenty years, one comes to believe there is a inherent lack of depth in the majority of analysis. We genuinely cannot know how an player is feeling at any given moment and how that impacts their performance. Jota's passing is one of the most stark examples. We are aware a terrible thing occurred, and we comprehend the concept of sorrow. But further lies an immeasurable layer of effect on various individuals at the organization. It is very possible that some of the players themselves do not truly grasp its influence from one moment to the next.
How the media reports on this and how fans dissect displays is clearly not the most important factor. On a practical basis, mentioning Jota's passing is challenging to accomplish in a short segment before transitioning to tactical concerns. Outside of this particular tragedy and beyond Liverpool, it would seem bizarre to preface every critique of a player with an admission that we are largely ignorant about their private circumstances—be it their family situation, personal struggles, or relationship problems.
An ex- pro player, the defender, lately spoke on a broadcast about how his mother's passing midway through his playing days impacted his love for the game. "I didn't enjoy football as much," he stated. "Some of the highs and the lows that accompany it didn't really feel the same any more." And that was half a career; for Liverpool and Jota, it has been only three months.
So, regardless of what Liverpool accomplish this season—if it's something or failure—even if we don't mention it whenever we discuss their matches, and even if it isn't the reason for their final outcome, we must remember that a short time ago they suffered the loss of not merely a brilliant footballer, but, crucially, they lost a dear friend.
Tech enthusiast and AI researcher with a passion for exploring emerging technologies and their societal impacts.