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Just a few weeks ago, Liverpool appeared destined to claim back-to-back Premier League titles and potentially a further Champions League trophy. Their capacity to win despite not optimal performances seemed like the hallmark of true champions.

But, then the momentum turned. Liverpool persisted with average performances and began losing points. Meanwhile, Arsenal, renowned for their stubborn backline and strength in depth, began closing the gap at the top.

Defining a Slump in Modern Football

Can three consecutive defeats represent a crisis? Like many football debates, it hinges entirely on your definition of the key word. Is Paul Scholes elite? How do you define "elite" even signify? Is the Birmingham club a big team? What defines "big"? Is the Old Trafford outfit returned to prominence? Alright, maybe that's one we can answer.

For a club of this club's stature and previous campaign's brilliance, a mini crisis seems a fair assessment. During a broadcast, ex- forward Neil Mellor was asked how many losses in a row would cause panic. His answer was six. At present, they are midway to that threshold.

Pinpointing the On-Pitch Issues

There are obvious footballing issues. Integrating new additions like Milos Kerkez and Jeremie Frimpong, who provide a distinct skill set to departed stalwarts Andy Robertson and Trent Alexander-Arnold, presents a difficulty. Similarly, incorporating a talented attacking midfielder like Florian Wirtz has reportedly unbalanced the midfield. Experts of the Bundesliga point out that Wirtz is a creative talent who improves those around him, linking play seamlessly rather than imposing himself on the game.

Furthermore, a host of players who excelled last campaign—including Mo Salah, Ibrahima Konaté, Alexis Mac Allister, and Conor Bradley—are currently underperforming. Actually, most of the squad is. Yet every one of them have one profound, fresh experience: the passing of their teammate and friend, Diogo Jota.

The Unseen Effect: Grief on the Field

It has been just more than three short months since the devastating loss of their teammate. Although the outside world progresses rapidly, diverting attention to global events, Liverpool's squad carry on going to work each day in the absence of their mate.

It is impossible to know how every individual and member of the backroom team is coping on any given day. It requires a great deal of speculation. Maybe Salah didn't track back in a recent match simply he lacked energy. Or maybe his performance level is down a few per cent because he is grieving for his pal.

The London club's head coach, Enzo Maresca, commented insightfully before a recent, drawing a comparison to his own experience of losing a fellow player, Antonio Puerta, while at Sevilla. "The way they are performing this campaign is remarkable," he said of Liverpool. "Particularly after the loss. I went through a very similar experience when I was a player 20 years ago."

"It's not easy 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 see every day that place vacant. So you must be very strong. And this is the explanation why for me they are doing not well, but exceptionally well. Because they are trying to handle a problem that is not easy."

As summarized well on a popular supporter's show, the reminders are constant. They are reminded by his song in the 20th minute, they see his empty peg in the dressing room. In the middle of games, a pass might be made and the realization arises: 'Ah, Jota would have reached that.' If Salah was seen crying in front of the Kop a few games ago, it signals that everything is far from normal.

The Limits of Football Analysis and Personal Grief

After reporting on football for twenty years, one comes to believe there is a fundamental superficiality in most analysis. We simply do not know how an player is coping at any specific moment and how that impacts their performance. Jota's death is one of the most stark illustrations. We know a terrible thing happened, and we comprehend the nature of grief. But further lies an intangible level of impact on different individuals at the organization. It is highly likely that some of the squad themselves do not fully understand its effect from one day to the next.

The way the media covers this and how fans dissect displays is clearly not the most important factor. On a functional basis, bringing up Jota's passing is difficult to accomplish in a brief segment before moving on to on-field issues. Outside of this specific tragedy and beyond Liverpool, it would seem bizarre to preface each criticism of a footballer with an acknowledgment that we are largely ignorant about their private circumstances—be it their parental relationships, health struggles, or marital problems.

A former pro footballer, Nedum Onuoha, recently talked on a broadcast 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 stated. "The high points and the lows that come with it didn't really feel the same after that." And that was many years into his profession; for Liverpool and Jota, it has been only three months.

The Final Thought

So, whatever Liverpool achieve in the coming months—if it's something or if it's nothing—whether or not we omit reference to it whenever we discuss their matches, and 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 just a exceptional player, but, crucially, they lost a friend.