It's a tough task to make anyone reading this blog to feel bad for the reigning Premier League champions, a team still solidly in contention for Champions League qualification for next season, and an organization that spent a fortune, perhaps badly, this past summer. (This task becomes infinitely tougher if you are yourself a fan of the presumptive next champions of the league.) But dammit, I'm going to try anyway, because the 2025-26 Liverpool season has been a complete disaster on and off the field, from before the season even started through Tuesday's double whammy of Champions League elimination at the hands of Paris Saint-Germain (3-0 on aggregate) and Hugo Ekitike's ruptured Achilles, which will keep the Frenchman out of the World Cup and most of next season as well.
Before I go further, I have to be clear that nothing that has happened to Liverpool during this season, not even Ekitike's horrible and horribly timed injury, compares to what happened right before. Diogo Jota's death on July 3 was one of the rare sports-related events that counts as tragic in the proper sense. The sadness of it has hung over the entire Liverpool season. In many ways, the players and staff are all still grieving, which has surely affected the results on the field. Even if Liverpool had gone on to have a totally normal season in terms of results, this campaign was always going to be remembered first and foremost for Diogo Jota.
And while certainly not tragic in the same way, most of what has happened on Merseyside this season has only increased the bummer vibes. It was clear heading into this one that it would be a transitional year, as the last vestiges of the Jürgen Klopp era gave way to a new, younger, and more expensive era, marked by the leadership of Arne Slot. The summer shopping spree that brought in Ekitike, Florian Wirtz, Alexander Isak, Milos Kerkez, and Jeremie Frimpong was supposed to supercharge what was already a title-winning squad. Instead, it has been a debacle.
Wirtz has shown flashes of the expected brilliance, but only flashes. He's been anonymous a few too many times to call his €125 million transfer anything but a disappointment to this point. (Wirtz is very good and I have faith he'll eventually hit his high notes more consistently in a Liverpool shirt, but I have to be realistic about this season.) Isak, considered a can't-miss signing when he joined, has never seemed comfortable in the side since sealing his contentious move from Newcastle last September, and a broken fibula in December, right when he finally seemed to get some motion, derailed his season. Kerkez has had some horrible defending mistakes, though I will say he's grown into the left-back role more and more as the season goes on. Frimpong has also struggled with injuries and with adapting a true right-back position, but he should be fine if/when he can stay healthy.
The only bright spot, really, from that group of five pricey transfers was Ekitike, who started on fire, cooled off a bit, then settled into consistently solid performances that earned him a spot on the French national team, the planet's toughest international roster to crack. He was all set to be a key attacking piece for the tournament favorites this summer, be it as a starter or as an oft-used substitute, and though his Premier League stats aren't jaw-dropping (11 goals, four assists), he showed that he can produce as part of a fluid attack.
Alas, in the 22nd minute of Tuesday's second leg against PSG, Ekitike fell to the ground with no contact and looked to be in devastating pain. Reports on Wednesday confirmed the worst suspicions, clarifying that he did indeed tear his Achilles.
It's unclear as of now if the rupture is full or partial, which will affect Ekitike's recovery timeline. Either way, he will unquestionably be out for the World Cup and the start of the next club season. What is clear is that this fucking sucks. There's no more eloquent way to put it. Ekitike is such a fun player, a lanky giant who moves with surprising fluidly and, when he's on, can score from anywhere in the box. He also appears to be a well-liked member of the squad, and is a legitimately funny shitposter on top. It's a real shame that a player of his talent and personality won't get a chance to shine on the biggest stage in soccer this summer, and the fact that any conversation about him going forward must include a multitude of caveats surrounding recovery from one of the worst injuries for an athlete is just unfair.
The relative failure of Liverpool's recruits was only exacerbated by the drop-offs across the squad from the returning title-winners. It's easier to list which players have improved this season, or at least kept their level: Ryan Gravenberch hasn't been quite world class but is still extremely good; Alisson, when healthy, has been a top goalkeeper as per usual; Alexis Mac Allister took some time to round into shape after an early season injury but has played pretty well, all things considered; most notably, Dominik Szoboszlai has been Liverpool's best player by a mile this year, scoring key goals, deputizing at right back when needed, and oftentimes serving as Liverpool's only creative outlet going forward. If Liverpool had been in title contention, the Hungarian would have a real shout at Player of the Season honors for the entire Premier League. Instead, he will just be the brightest spot on a dark season.
Pretty much every other returning player regressed this year, which has led to an inconsistency in results that has dropped Liverpool from last year's perch at the top to fighting for one of the five UCL places. Virgil van Dijk is starting to show his age, while his center back partner Ibrahima Konaté has been mostly poor. This has led to conceding some very stupid goals and dropped points, something that just didn't happen last year.
However, the biggest drop-off, and the worst drama of the season from an on-field perspective, has to be Mohamed Salah, who will be leaving the club this summer after a tumultuous final season at Anfield. I won't recap the whole saga, but Salah's benching, his exile from the club around the time of the African Cup of Nations, and his poor performances since returning have all contributed to the dark clouds that have defined this season. There will be more to say about Salah's unbelievably successful tenure as a Red, but for now, it's probably best to conclude that a breakup is what's best for both parties.
Similarly, there is the looming breakup between the club and Slot. I don't envy the job the Dutchman had to perform this year. Taking over from the iconic and beloved Klopp was itself a daunting proposition. In his first season, Slot shocked everyone by achieving a level of success that no one really expected. For that, he deserves a ton of credit. That title run earned him enough goodwill to weather some rough patches, but the combination of Jota's death—something no manager could be prepared for, in fairness—and such a drastic squad overhaul made this season more difficult than anyone would've thought. That's not to say Slot is blameless. His over-reliance on Cody Gakpo has been frustrating, and the squad's jittery hold on any given matchday would seem to speak to deficient preparation from the coaching staff. Though Slot doesn't deserve blame for everything that has gone wrong for Liverpool, it would make sense if the club decided that the best thing would be to put this depressing year behind them by starting over with a clean slate and someone new.
So, yeah, it's been a really unpleasant season to follow. Even before Tuesday's elimination, I was just looking forward to Liverpool seeing out the rest of the season before rebooting next fall with a new manager and less historical weight, but Ekitike's injury dulls even that optimism. What remains is a blunt sadness over what could have been, what should have been, and what will never be again.
Again, I don't realistically expect anyone to feel bad for Liverpool less than a year after winning the Premier League. With how factionalism goes in soccer fandom (a thing I gleefully participate in myself, mind you!), I don't expect anyone to feel bad for Liverpool, ever. I'm just relaying that it has been extremely not fun to be a Pool Boy this season, and I'm glad it's all coming to an end soon. It's a bad feeling to have, knowing that the last eight or so months amounted to little but disappointment and outright agony, and that there are three months before I can trick myself into believing things will be better. I guess that's just being a sports fan. Why do we all do this?
