Just a couple of weeks back, 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 win without peak performances felt like the hallmark of genuine title-winners.
However, subsequently the momentum shifted. The Anfield side continued with average performances and began dropping matches. At the same time, Arsenal, renowned for their stubborn defense and strength in depth, started narrowing the gap at the summit.
Can three consecutive losses constitute a crisis? As with most football debates, it depends completely on your definition of the central word. Was the United midfielder elite? What does "world class" actually signify? Are Aston Villa a big team? What defines "major"? Is the Old Trafford outfit returned to prominence? Well, perhaps that is a question we can answer.
At a team of Liverpool's stature and last season's excellence, a minor crisis seems a fair assessment. On a recent broadcast, former striker Neil Mellor was questioned how many losses in a row would trigger alarm. His reply was six. At present, they are midway to that point.
One can observe clear footballing issues. Assimilating new signings like Milos Kerkez and Jeremie Frimpong, who offer a different style to previous stalwarts Andy Robertson and Trent Alexander-Arnold, presents a challenge. Likewise, blending in a gifted playmaker 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 imposing himself on the game.
Additionally, a host of players who excelled last campaign—such as Mo Salah, Ibrahima Konaté, Alexis Mac Allister, and Conor Bradley—are currently below their best. In fact, the majority of the team are. Yet every one of them share one profound, recent event: the passing of their colleague and friend, Diogo Jota.
It has been just more than three short months since the tragic loss of their friend. Although the wider world progresses rapidly, diverting attention to other matters, Liverpool's squad carry on going to work day after day without their friend.
This is impossible to know how each individual and member of the backroom team is coping on any given day. It requires a great deal of projection. Maybe Salah didn't track back in a particular match simply he was tired. Or perhaps his form is down a small per cent because he is grieving for his friend.
Chelsea's head coach, Enzo Maresca, commented eloquently before a fixture, making a parallel to his own situation of the loss of a teammate, Antonio Puerta, when at Sevilla. "The way they are doing this campaign is fantastic," he said of Liverpool. "Particularly after Jota's loss. I lived exactly the same experience when I was a player two decades past."
"It is difficult for the squad, it's not easy for the club, it's not easy for the manager when you come to the training complex and you see every day that spot vacant. So you have to be incredibly resilient. And this is the reason why for me they are doing not well, but exceptionally well. Because they are trying to deal with a situation that is not easy."
As explained succinctly on a popular fan podcast, the memory triggers are ongoing. They hear his song in the 20th minute, they notice his empty locker in the dressing room. Even during games, a through ball might be made and the realization arises: 'Oh, Jota would have been there.' When the Egyptian showed emotion in front of the Kop a few games ago, it indicates that all is far from all right.
After reporting on football for two decades, one comes to believe there is a fundamental superficiality in most analysis. We genuinely do not know how an individual is feeling at any given moment and how that impacts their performance. Jota's passing is one of the most stark examples. We know a terrible thing occurred, and we comprehend the concept of grief. But further lies an intangible level of impact on different people at the club. It is very possible that a few of the players themselves don't fully understand its influence from one moment to the next.
The way the media covers this and how supporters analyze performances is obviously far from the primary thing. On a functional level, bringing up Jota's passing is difficult to accomplish in a brief soundbite before moving on to on-field concerns. Beyond this specific tragedy and outside Liverpool, it would seem bizarre to preface each criticism of a player with an acknowledgment that we know so little about their private circumstances—be it their parental relationships, health challenges, or relationship difficulties.
An ex- professional footballer, the defender, recently spoke on a broadcast about how his mother's death midway through his career affected his love for the game. "I lost some joy in football as much," he said. "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 just three months.
So, whatever Liverpool accomplish this season—be it success or failure—even if we don't mention it every time we discuss their matches, even if it isn't the reason for their eventual outcome, we should not forget that a short time ago they suffered the loss of not merely a brilliant footballer, but, more importantly, they said goodbye to a dear friend.