Image Credit: Liverpool FC via Getty Images
They will get back in their winning ways
With £446 million spent and several new player acquisitions, there is no reason Liverpool Football Club should be struggling in the manner they currently is. After an ambitious summer transfer window that saw the club break the British transfer record twice, expectations were sky-high. The signings of Florian Wirtz and Alexander Isak, costing a combined £250 million, were seen as statements of intent, proof that Liverpool were ready to dominate English football once again. Yet here we are, watching a team that has lost five consecutive domestic matches, struggling to find rhythm, identity, and belief.
Many pundits, including Sky Sports analysts, have pointed to Liverpool’s supposed lack of squad depth as the root of their poor form. However, that argument doesn’t hold weight this season. The club spent heavily to reinforce key areas, particularly after the sale of Trent Alexander-Arnold, Darwin Núñez, and Luis Díaz. On paper, the squad looks more balanced than ever, and there are no issues of squad depth; however, there is a question about connection and chemistry. Football isn’t simply a numbers game; it thrives on understanding, rhythm, and the instinctive bonds between players who know each other’s movements and tendencies.
When Trent Alexander-Arnold and Mohamed Salah linked up on the right-hand side last season, it was artistry in motion, a partnership built on years of cohesion and creativity. Losing that connection has visibly affected Salah’s form, making him look like he hasn’t played football for months. The Egyptian forward, once unstoppable, now looks like a shadow of his former self, reminiscent of Pierre-Emerick Aubameyang at Arsenal after signing a lucrative contract. Salah looks isolated, frustrated, and without the spark that made him one of the Premier League’s deadliest forwards.
Moreover, the death of Diogo Jota has had a profound emotional impact on the squad. Beyond his goals and assists, Jota was reportedly a key figure in the dressing room; a player with infectious energy and quiet leadership. Losing someone like that can’t be quantified statistically, but it matters deeply in a team sport built on morale and unity. His presence would have been an intangible factor that could have held Liverpool together during difficult stretches.
Similarly, the absence of Luis Díaz, whose tireless work rate and pressing defined Liverpool’s high-tempo style, has been felt immensely. Díaz was instrumental in the club’s title-winning campaign last season, and his relentless energy often set the tone for the team’s pressing structure. Without him now, Liverpool is looking sluggish and disjointed, a team unsure of their rhythm and poor pressing defence off the ball.
There’s also the question of Arne Slot’s managerial honeymoon. Winning games in dramatic, last-minute fashion gave fans and pundits a false sense of security, the illusion that Liverpool had evolved into an unstoppable force last season but now this looks like a farce. The recent string of losses, however, has exposed the cracks: tactical complacency, overconfidence, and the dangerous assumption that talent alone can replace chemistry.
That said, Liverpool are not in crisis; they are in a transitional phase. Every great club experiences difficult periods, particularly after major squad changes – a good example is Manchester United FC in the last ten years. It takes time for new players to integrate, for systems to adapt, and for new leaders to emerge as Van Dijk doesn’t look like himself as well. A few consecutive wins could easily propel them back into title contention. The quality is undoubtedly there; it just hasn’t clicked yet.
However, the long-term concern lies in strategic planning. Selling influential players like Alexander-Arnold and Díaz too soon was a mistake. These players weren’t just talented; they were the emotional and tactical core of the team. Liverpool’s board and Slot seemed overconfident, believing that financial investment could seamlessly replace leadership, chemistry, and loyalty. It’s a miscalculation rooted in modern football’s obsession with instant results and stripping away player power.
In truth, squad depth is not Liverpool’s problem. The real issue is a lack of cohesion, overconfidence, and perhaps a loss of identity. Money can buy talent, but it can’t buy trust, understanding, or the magic that made Liverpool such a force last season. Until the players rediscover that collective spirit; the unspoken rhythm that defined their best form last season, Liverpool needs to find this rhythm quick otherwise their season will be over.
