Just a few weeks ago, Liverpool appeared set to claim back-to-back Premier League championships and possibly a further Champions League trophy. The team's ability to win despite not optimal performances felt like the hallmark of true title-winners.
But, then the tide shifted. The Anfield side persisted with average performances and began dropping matches. Meanwhile, Arsenal, known for their resolute backline and strength in depth, began closing the gap at the summit.
Can a trio of consecutive losses represent a collapse? As with most football debates, it depends completely on your definition of the central word. Is Paul Scholes world class? How do you define "elite" even signify? Are Aston Villa a major club? What defines "big"? Are Manchester United back? Alright, maybe that's a question we can answer.
At a team of Liverpool's size and previous campaign's excellence, a minor setback seems a reasonable description. On a recent broadcast, former striker Neil Mellor was questioned how many defeats in a row would trigger alarm. His answer was six. At present, they are midway to that point.
There are clear footballing problems. Assimilating recent additions like Milos Kerkez and Jeremie Frimpong, who provide a distinct style to previous stalwarts Andy Robertson and Trent Alexander-Arnold, presents a difficulty. Likewise, blending in a talented playmaker like Florian Wirtz has reportedly disrupted the engine room. Experts of the Bundesliga point out that Wirtz is a technical talent who improves those beside him, linking play effortlessly rather than forcing himself on the game.
Additionally, a number of players who shone last campaign—including Mo Salah, Ibrahima Konaté, Alexis Mac Allister, and Conor Bradley—are currently below their best. In fact, the majority of the squad are. Yet they all have one profound, fresh experience: the tragic death of their colleague and companion, Diogo Jota.
It has been just over three short months since the tragic loss of their teammate. While the wider world progresses rapidly, diverting attention to other matters, the club's squad continue training and playing day after day in the absence of their friend.
It is not possible to know how each player and member of the backroom team is coping on any given day. It requires a great deal of speculation. Perhaps Salah didn't track back in a recent match because he lacked energy. Or maybe his performance level is down a small per cent due to the fact he is grieving for his friend.
The London club's head coach, Enzo Maresca, commented insightfully before a fixture, making a parallel to his own situation of losing a fellow player, Antonio Puerta, while at Sevilla. "The way they are doing this campaign is remarkable," he said of Liverpool. "Particularly after Jota's loss. I lived exactly the same thing when I was a player 20 years ago."
"It's not easy for the squad, it's not easy for the organization, it's not easy for the coach when you arrive at the training ground and you see every day that spot empty. So you have to be very strong. And this is the explanation why for me they are doing not well, even better than good. Because they are trying to handle a situation that is not easy."
As explained well on a well-known fan podcast, the memory triggers are ongoing. They hear his song in the 20th minute, they see his unused peg in the dressing room. Even during games, a through ball might be played and the realization arises: 'Oh, Diogo would have been there.' When the Egyptian showed emotion in front of the Kop a matches ago, it signals that all is not normal.
Having covering football for twenty years, one comes to believe there is a fundamental lack of depth in most analysis. We genuinely do not know how an individual is coping at any given time and how that impacts their play. Jota's death is one of the clearest illustrations. We know a tragic thing occurred, and we understand the nature of sorrow. Beyond that lies an immeasurable level of impact on different people at the club. It is very possible that some of the players themselves don't truly grasp its influence from one moment to the next.
The way the press reports on this and how fans dissect displays is clearly far from the primary thing. On a functional level, mentioning Jota's death is challenging to accomplish in a short segment before transitioning to tactical concerns. Outside of this specific event and outside Liverpool, it would seem strange to preface every criticism of a player with an acknowledgment that we are largely ignorant about their personal lives—be it their family situation, personal struggles, or relationship problems.
An ex- professional player, the defender, lately spoke on a broadcast about how his mother's death halfway through his playing days impacted his love for the game. "I didn't enjoy football as much," he said. "The high points 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 only three months.
Therefore, whatever Liverpool achieve in the coming months—be it success or if it's nothing—whether or not we omit reference to it every time we discuss their matches, and even if it isn't the cause for their eventual result, we should not forget that a few weeks ago they lost not just a brilliant player, but, crucially, they lost a dear friend.
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