Just a few weeks ago, the Merseyside club seemed set to claim back-to-back Premier League titles and possibly another Champions League trophy. Their ability to secure victories without peak displays felt like the hallmark of true title-winners.
However, subsequently the momentum shifted. Liverpool persisted with mediocre showings and began losing matches. Meanwhile, Arsenal, renowned for their stubborn backline and strength in depth, began closing the gap at the summit.
Can three straight defeats represent a collapse? Like many sporting discussions, it hinges completely on your definition of the key term. Was the United midfielder world class? How do you define "world class" even signify? Is the Birmingham club a major team? What constitutes "big"? Is the Old Trafford outfit returned to prominence? Well, perhaps that is a question we might settle.
At a team of Liverpool's size and last season's brilliance, a mini setback seems a reasonable assessment. During a broadcast, ex- striker Neil Mellor was questioned how many defeats in a row would cause panic. His reply was six. At present, they are halfway to that point.
There are clear footballing problems. Assimilating new signings like Milos Kerkez and Jeremie Frimpong, who provide a different style to departed stalwarts Andy Robertson and Trent Alexander-Arnold, presents a difficulty. Similarly, blending in a talented attacking midfielder like Florian Wirtz has reportedly disrupted the midfield. Experts of the Bundesliga note that Wirtz is a creative player who improves those around him, connecting play seamlessly rather than forcing himself on the game.
Additionally, a host of players who shone last season—including Mo Salah, Ibrahima Konaté, Alexis Mac Allister, and Conor Bradley—are currently below their best. Actually, most of the squad is. And every one of them have one profound, fresh event: the tragic death of their colleague and companion, Diogo Jota.
It has been just more than three months since the devastating loss of their friend. Although the wider world moves on quickly, diverting attention to other events, Liverpool's players continue going to work each day in the absence of their friend.
It 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 speculation. Maybe Salah didn't track back in a recent match simply he was tired. But maybe his form is down a small per cent because he is grieving for his friend.
Chelsea's head coach, Enzo Maresca, spoke insightfully before a recent, making a comparison to his own experience of the loss of a teammate, Antonio Puerta, while at Sevilla. "The way they are performing this season is fantastic," he said of Liverpool. "Particularly after Jota's tragedy. 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 organization, it's not easy for the coach when you arrive at the training ground and you find every day that spot empty. So you must be incredibly resilient. And this is the explanation why for me they are performing not good, even better than good. Because they are trying to deal with a problem that is not easy."
Just as explained succinctly on a well-known fan podcast, the memory triggers are constant. They are reminded by his chant in the first half, they see his unused locker in the dressing room. Even during matches, a through ball might be made and the thought arises: 'Oh, Diogo would have been there.' When the Egyptian showed emotion in front of the Kop a few games ago, it indicates that everything is far from all right.
Having covering football for two decades, one comes to believe there is a fundamental superficiality in the majority of analysis. We genuinely do not know how an player is feeling at any given moment and how that affects their performance. Jota's passing is one of the clearest illustrations. We know a terrible event happened, and we comprehend the concept of sorrow. Beyond that lies an intangible layer of effect on various people at the organization. It is highly likely that some of the squad personally do not fully grasp its influence from one day to the next.
The way the media covers this and how supporters analyze displays is obviously far from the primary factor. On a functional basis, bringing up Jota's passing is challenging to accomplish in a brief segment before moving on to on-field issues. Beyond this particular event and beyond Liverpool, it would seem strange to qualify each critique of a footballer with an acknowledgment that we know so little about their personal lives—be it their parental relationships, health struggles, or relationship problems.
An ex- pro footballer, the defender, recently talked on radio about how his mother's passing halfway through his career affected his love for the game. "I lost some joy in football as much," he said. "Some of the highs and the lows that come with it no longer felt 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 achieve this season—if it's something or failure—whether or not we omit reference to it every time we analyze their matches, even if it is not the sole cause for their eventual outcome, we should not forget that a few weeks ago they lost not just a exceptional player, but, crucially, they lost a dear friend.
A passionate sports journalist with over a decade of experience covering Italian football and local Turin events.