Perhaps prophesized ad nauseam prior to the start of an unprecedented football season sans the vociferous supporters, but the essence of an upheaval caused one to adjust their collars as they braced for the opening Premier League game where a brazen Bielsa-led Leeds took on the champion in Liverpool.
Call it a thunderous communiqué of the Bielsa Way and its place in the hallowed company of the English elite or an anomalous nudge for the Reds, an inviting ball from newly signed Helder Costa met by Mateusz Klich to level the score caused a peculiar questioning look. In retrospect, the score-line hardly elicits an eyebrow raise. The newly-promoted side had donned their famed role of assailants, landing ambitious jabs before the decisive uppercut from the omnipotent Mohamed Salah served the coup de grâce.
Jürgen Klopp throughout his career has painted an arc; a masterpiece admired by countless yet understood by the finite few who assimilate under his tutelage. Each surgical step over his tenure elucidated the vision of a reverie. Heartbreak at Kiev birthed the exultation at Madrid. From 97-point runners up emerged a domineering push rivalled by a meagre few. For Klopp and his men, it paid off. A personal story behind every spoke of the proverbial wheel flowed in tandem ever so rhythmically to blossom into the supposed forging of an ethos, 30 years in the making.
Jordan Henderson ascended the steps while his team awaited their captain for the coronation. Klopp watched on proudly. The team along with the staff congregated on the pitch as “You’ll Never Walk Alone” serenaded them, emanating from the speakers.
What should have been the cathartic outpouring after an exhaustive season left all yearning for reciprocity. Perhaps an ovation from a roaring Anfield may have offered desired closure, but the severance of debris from the juggernaut preceded the realisation. The second half of their title-winning season felt like a torn leaf of an elusive opus of foibles. The high defensive line left itself perilously exposed. Fortunately, they had one Virgil Van Dijk next to Joe Gomez to offer cohesion in hysteria.
Ah…
The transition from a blip to all-out crisis was stunningly seamless. The attested backline saw 18 unique centre-half partnerships this season at the cost of their midfield simultaneously. Injuries arrived in spades, imprisoning the side in an excruciating state of predictability. Signings of Ozan Kabak and Ben Davies reeked of understandable desperation. An audible licking of chops rang through the King Power Stadium as Jamie Vardy saw the Turk make his debut, a clear mismatch as the physical centre-half felt the brunt of the blistering pace that would slay the defending champions often enough to raise questions. Pertinent ones; not quite about their form or lack thereof, the answer is evident.
Whilst legacy may not concern Jürgen Klopp, his approach to the rumours of him succeeding Joachim Löw as German head coach holds true for a man of principle. Principle propelled Liverpool to blossom after heartbreak. Yet, in the face of abject failure, principle has driven the team right into the hands of their opposition. In the process of painting a masterpiece, principle may have tarnished the canvas.
A 4-1 dismantling at the hands of Manchester City led to a poignant moment. Klopp was asked whether he concedes the title in the wake of their third consecutive loss at home after a 68-game unbeaten run. A gentle huff followed by a pause, enough to run through each adversity, personal and professional alike. The answer that followed – “Yes. I can’t believe it, but yes.”
The second leg of the UEFA Champions League tie against RB Leipzig offered a glimmer. Fabinho in midfield breathed life into an undead Liverpool, thwarting central incisions and forcing the German side to play that extra pass. A single step towards normalcy caused rejuvenation.
European glory stands as the likely source of success this season and maybe, there is hope. For the sake of principle, there needs to be hope.
