🔗 Share this article

Just a couple of weeks back, Liverpool appeared set to secure back-to-back Premier League championships and potentially another Champions League trophy. The team's capacity to win despite not peak displays felt like the mark of genuine champions.

But, then the tide turned. The Anfield side persisted with average performances and began dropping points. Meanwhile, Arsenal, renowned for their stubborn backline and strength in depth, started narrowing the gap at the top.

Defining a Crisis in Today's Game

Can three consecutive losses represent a crisis? As with many football debates, it depends completely on your interpretation of the key word. Was the United midfielder world class? What does "elite" even mean? Is the Birmingham club a big team? What defines "major"? Are Manchester United returned to prominence? Well, perhaps that is a question we might answer.

At a team of this club's size and previous campaign's excellence, a mini crisis seems a reasonable assessment. On a recent broadcast, former striker Neil Mellor was questioned how many defeats in a row would trigger panic. His reply was six. At present, they are midway to that particular threshold.

Identifying the On-Pitch Problems

There are clear tactical problems. Integrating recent additions like Milos Kerkez and Jeremie Frimpong, who offer a different style to previous key players Andy Robertson and Trent Alexander-Arnold, presents a difficulty. Similarly, incorporating a gifted attacking midfielder like Florian Wirtz has reportedly disrupted the engine room. Experts of the Bundesliga note that Wirtz is a creative player who improves those around him, connecting play effortlessly rather than forcing himself on the game.

Furthermore, a number of players who excelled last campaign—such as Mo Salah, Ibrahima Konaté, Alexis Mac Allister, and Conor Bradley—are now below their best. Actually, most of the squad is. And every one of them have one significant, fresh experience: the tragic death of their colleague and companion, Diogo Jota.

The Unseen Effect: Grief on the Field

It has been just over three short months since the tragic passing of their friend. Although the wider world progresses rapidly, shifting attention to global matters, the club's squad carry on training and playing day after day in the absence of their friend.

This is impossible to gauge how every 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 recent match because he was tired. Or maybe his performance level is down a small percentage points due to the fact he is grieving for his friend.

The London club's head coach, Enzo Maresca, commented eloquently before a recent, drawing a parallel to his personal situation of the loss of a fellow player, Antonio Puerta, while at Sevilla. "How they are doing this campaign is fantastic," he said of Liverpool. "Particularly after Jota's tragedy. I lived exactly the same experience when I was a player 20 years ago."

"It's not easy for the players, it's not easy for the club, it's not easy for the coach when you arrive at the training complex and you see every day that spot empty. So you must be very strong. And this is the explanation why for me they are doing not good, but exceptionally well. Because they are attempting to handle a situation that is not easy."

Just as explained well on a popular supporter's show, the memory triggers are ongoing. They hear his chant in the 20th minute, they notice his empty peg in the dressing room. Even during matches, a pass 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 signals that everything is far from all right.

The Limits of Punditry and Personal Grief

Having reporting on football for twenty years, one realizes there is a inherent superficiality in the majority of analysis. We simply do not know how an individual is coping at any specific time and how that affects their performance. Jota's passing is one of the clearest illustrations. We are aware a tragic thing happened, and we understand the concept of sorrow. Beyond that lies an intangible level of effect on various individuals at the club. It is highly likely that a few of the players personally don't truly grasp its influence from one day to the next.

How the press reports on this and how fans dissect performances is clearly far from the primary thing. On a practical level, bringing up Jota's death is challenging to do in a brief segment before moving on to tactical concerns. Beyond this particular event and outside Liverpool, it would seem strange to qualify every criticism of a player with an acknowledgment that we are largely ignorant about their private circumstances—be it their family situation, personal challenges, or relationship problems.

A former pro player, Nedum Onuoha, recently talked on radio about how his mother's death halfway through his playing days affected his passion for the game. "I didn't enjoy football as much," he stated. "The high points and the lows that accompany it no longer felt the same after that." And that was half a career; for Liverpool and Jota, it has been only three short months.

The Concluding Point

So, regardless of what Liverpool accomplish this season—be it success or failure—even if we omit reference to it whenever we analyze their fixtures, even if it is not the sole cause for their final outcome, we should not forget that a short time ago they lost not merely a exceptional player, but, crucially, they said goodbye to a friend.