“No formation can replace the spark that a personality like Jota brought into the room.”
Football has never been just about tactics, transfers, or titles – it’s about the people, their emotions, their stories, their strength. And this season, that truth has been brought painfully home for Liverpool Football Club.
Just months after lifting the Premier League trophy, the club was rocked by the sudden and tragic passing of Portuguese forward, Diogo Jota – a key figure both on and off the pitch.
Having only recently celebrated his wedding – a moment of happiness and a celebration of love – Liverpool now embodies the despair and loss that comes with the reminder of how quickly life can change.
The news of Jota’s death has spread across the world, where tributes have poured in from fans, players, and managers who recognised not only his talent, but his humility. At Liverpool, where he had become a fan favourite for his work rate and quiet determination, the impact ran far deeper than football.
When pre-season began under new manager Arne Slot, the grief was still raw, where every home match now carries a poignant tribute to him: applause in the 20th minute, a nod to the number he wore. It’s a moment that unites the crowd but also reminds everyone of his absence.
Since his passing, Liverpool’s form has faltered. Once fluid and fearless, players now look uncertain, where flashes of brilliance are fading into frustration. The questions have grown louder: is this simply the result of Slot’s tactical changes, or something deeper?
Slot inherited a world-class squad built by Jurgen Klopp, a team that thrived on emotion, unity and relentless energy, but grief changes people. It changes teams. No system or shape can compensate for the loss of a friend. When the dressing room loses one of its hearts, the game becomes that little bit heavier.
Some critics point to Slot’s structural tweaks as reasons for the dip, yet for those close to the players, it’s clear that this season has been as much about healing as performing.
Every goal scored, every point dropped, feels touched by that absence.
Footballers are often told to “get on with it,” to separate emotion from performance, but Diogo Jota’s death has shown that even elite athletes are human first. Behind the boots and the badges are people who grieve, who struggle, and who find strength in remembering.
Whether Liverpool rediscover their rhythm this season or not, one thing is certain: Diogo Jota’s legacy will not fade. It lives on in every fan who stands to applaud, in every player who looks to the sky, and in every reminder that football, at its heart, is a game played by people and loved by them too.
