Only a few weeks back, Liverpool appeared destined to secure back-to-back Premier League titles and possibly a further Champions League trophy. Their ability to secure victories despite not peak displays seemed like the hallmark of true champions.
But, subsequently the tide shifted. Liverpool persisted with average performances and started losing points. Meanwhile, the North London club, renowned for their stubborn defense and strength in depth, began closing the distance at the top.
Does a trio of consecutive defeats represent a collapse? Like many sporting discussions, it depends completely on your definition of the central word. Was the United midfielder elite? How do you define "elite" actually mean? Is the Birmingham club a big club? What defines "major"? Is the Old Trafford outfit back? Well, maybe that's a question we can settle.
For a club of Liverpool's stature and previous campaign's excellence, a mini crisis seems a reasonable assessment. On a recent broadcast, former striker Neil Mellor was asked how many defeats in a row would cause panic. His answer was six. Currently, they are halfway to that point.
There are clear tactical issues. Integrating new additions like Milos Kerkez and Jeremie Frimpong, who provide a different style to departed stalwarts Andy Robertson and Trent Alexander-Arnold, creates a challenge. Likewise, blending in a talented attacking midfielder like Florian Wirtz has reportedly unbalanced the engine room. Experts of the Bundesliga note that Wirtz is a creative talent who improves those beside him, connecting play effortlessly rather than forcing himself upon the game.
Furthermore, a host of players who shone last campaign—such as Mo Salah, Ibrahima Konaté, Alexis Mac Allister, and Conor Bradley—are currently below their best. In fact, most of the squad is. And every one of them share one significant, fresh event: the tragic death of their colleague and friend, Diogo Jota.
We are now just more than three months since the tragic passing of their friend. Although the wider world moves on quickly, diverting focus to other matters, Liverpool's players continue going to work each day in the absence of their mate.
It is not possible to know how each player and member of the backroom team is dealing on any given day. There is a great deal of projection. Perhaps Salah didn't track back in a particular match because he lacked energy. Or perhaps his form is down a few percentage points due to the fact he misses his friend.
The London club's head coach, Enzo Maresca, commented eloquently before a fixture, making a parallel to his personal situation of losing a fellow player, Antonio Puerta, while at Sevilla. "The way they are performing this season is fantastic," he said of Liverpool. "Particularly after Jota's loss. I lived exactly the same 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 manager when you come to the training ground and you see every day that place vacant. So you must be very strong. And this is the explanation why for me they are doing not well, but exceptionally well. Because they are attempting to deal with a problem that is not easy."
Just as explained succinctly on a well-known fan podcast, the reminders are ongoing. They are reminded by his song in the 20th minute, they notice his empty peg in the changing room. Even during games, a through ball might be made and the thought arises: 'Ah, Jota would have been there.' When the Egyptian was seen crying in front of the Kop a matches ago, it indicates that all is not all right.
Having reporting on football for twenty years, one realizes there is a inherent superficiality in most analysis. We simply do not know how an player is feeling at any given time and how that affects their performance. Jota's passing is one of the clearest examples. We are aware a terrible event occurred, and we understand the concept of sorrow. But further lies an intangible level of impact on different people at the organization. It is very possible that a few of the squad themselves do not fully grasp its influence from one moment to the next.
How the media reports on this and how supporters dissect displays is clearly not the primary thing. On a practical level, mentioning Jota's death is difficult to do in a brief segment before moving on to on-field concerns. Beyond this specific event and outside Liverpool, it would seem bizarre to preface each critique of a player with an acknowledgment that we know so little about their private circumstances—be it their parental situation, health struggles, or marital problems.
A former 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 didn't enjoy football as much," he stated. "Some of the highs and the low points that accompany it no longer felt the same any more." And that was half a career; for Liverpool and Jota, it has been just three short months.
Therefore, regardless of what Liverpool achieve this season—if it's something or if it's nothing—even if we don't mention it every time we analyze their fixtures, even if it isn't the reason for their final result, we should not forget that a short time ago they suffered the loss of not merely a exceptional footballer, but, crucially, they said goodbye to a dear friend.