In the unforgiving, relentless space that is the Premier League, the manager must improve his side quickly before the pressure makes matters worse
Are Liverpool in a crisis? Is Arne Slot that good of a manager? Odd questions to ask but very much in keeping with the tabloid angst of Premier League football. One matchweek you’ve recorded five wins in a row and the question is: can any other side make this a competition? Over the next two you’ve lost twice and everyone knew it was coming. Then they proceed to list all the insightful reasons why you’ve got only a little bit more than a snowball’s chance.
And if it’s not a crisis, can we maybe call it a mini-crisis, or perhaps a micro-crisis?
Of course there’s also a tinge of a delayed Slotfest in all this, a feeling of “it’s finally happening”, the sensation that was anticipated last season but failed to surface. Liverpool were supposed to go through a transition but they won the league instead, and now the anarchy is supposedly finally loosed upon Merseyside.
And so fingers are typing furiously in the press box. Phones are ringing back at HQ. Pre-arranged critical pieces from last Christmas are pulled out of the recycle bin, dates hastily changed, and it’s on.
Liverpool have lost three games on the bounce, after unconvincing wins in their first five that were characterised by giving away the lead and scoring late, late goals. After the international break they face Manchester United, Eintracht Frankfurt and Brentford, all chances of course to quickly stem the tide and dispel the illusion of a narrative, but also chances to keep fuelling the questions hanging over the squad.
Liverpool’s full-backs have been highlighted as rough edges. After the romantic duo of the last eight years were separated and then replaced by Milos Kerkez and Jeremie Frimpong, there was bound to be some drop off.
Perhaps the full-backs are not the problem, but Frimpong has also made far fewer forward passes and far less to Mohamed Salah, and Kerkez has been substituted early on different occasions after getting bullied, which led to Gary Neville calling him naive.
At the centre of the discourse is, without question, Florian Wirtz, the £116m special delivery to Anfield from Germany. Wirtz is a likeable footballer, with his short socks, exquisitely carved cheekbones, and the general appearance of a gent in a box-office production, like he could instantly swap his red jersey for a Tom Ford suit and remain in character on the pitch.
He also has expensive footballing tastes. There was that casual yet glorious spin to feed Mohamed Salah against Chelsea, for instance, after which the Egyptian king blasted a shot straight against Robert Sanchez and his German teammate remained without a goal contribution.
But that means Wirtz also sticks out in a Liverpool side that entertains with both exciting and rugged football. Wirtz will get muscled off the ball. Wirtz will get hunted down and stifled in an English game that rewards sinew as much as skill. Ultimately his physical side will need to improve if he is to make his mark in the Premier League, just as much as the manager will need to reshuffle and rearrange his side in a way that best suits the talents of his marquee hire.
If Liverpool continue to struggle for form, Wirtz will of course be part of the problem, but also not the problem, but the relentlessly grinding tabloid machine will never not make him the problem, just as Slot is the problem, and Alexander Isak, and the full-backs.
After succeeding last season with a squad that was not his own, Slot will need to prove himself all over again. Otherwise, experience tells us the manager will continue to receive pressure shots in the fullest dose, until he begins to spiral in his press conferences, frenzied after repeatedly responding to the same questions asked over and over again.
The only way to avoid that is to win of course, work furiously at the tactics board and come up with solutions fast enough before the hounds get you. That is the relentless nature of elite football, the fan and media culture, the dopamine-generator that makes it all make sense. Over to Arne.
