Tuesday, September 28, 2021

Egosystems and Main-Man Syndrome: How Liverpool’s Rivals Bought High-Paid Problems, Not Smart Solutions by Paul Tomkins

 https://tomkinstimes.com/2021/09/egosystems-and-main-man-syndrome-how-liverpools-rivals-bought-high-paid-problems-not-smart-solutions/

In By Paul TomkinsFree










 

This free article is also available on the TTT Substack, which is where certain free articles can be accessed via email newsletter, when signing up at no cost. However, as has been the case since 2009, to comment on TTT you need to be a paid subscriber.

Egosystems and Main-Man Syndrome: How Liverpool’s Rivals Bought High-Paid Problems, Not Smart Solutions

It wasn’t the best end to the weekend with Liverpool twice surrendering a lead in a frantic and at times incomprehensibly messy match, but also one of great excitement. But despite a fixture list that wasn’t the toughest on paper, to be unbeaten, winning 66% of games and scoring loads of goals – to lead the table by a clear point – is about as good as we could have hoped for at the start of the season, even if it was galling to not get the three points at a rocking Brentford (that may not be easy for other big clubs to visit).

For all the glitzy signings made by other clubs, this season is following the path of 2019/20, when the Reds unity, squad cohesion, team interplay and understanding, meant no new signings were required to break almost all of the records. So far, bar 90 minutes from the hugely promising Ibrahima Konaté, the same pattern is emerging, albeit with the record at 100% up to the 9th game that year. City sat second, as now, but five points behind, instead of one. 

There’s also no doubt that the league feels stronger this season, but this squad is still, for me, the best the Reds have ever had. Andy Robertson is off form (maybe worn out from four seasons of constant football for Liverpool and Scotland), but there’s now Kostas Tsimikas, who has a wand of a left foot. There are four outstanding centre-backs, plus an amazing fifth choice in Nat Phillips – but three are working their way back to full match fitness, and the other is adapting to life in England. 

The midfield pool is deep, but obviously already racking up injuries; the worst of which was from a red-card tackle, which was the problem last season for Virgil van Dijk and Thiago. (You can’t do much about such frequent bad tackles, other than to hope the officials crack down on them.)

And the terrific trident up front has become a fab four, with Divock Origi and Taki Minamino the types of backups who rarely get a run of games to get into any rhythm, but who are capable of shining when they do get enough game time; their issue is how rarely the others are injured. (And that’s a good thing.) 

This squad is better than 2019/20 (the only key player lost is Gini Wijnaldum, now a barely-used sub at PSG but on £300,000 a week), but the squad, due to terrible luck, has already lost the energy-boosting Harvey Elliott, who was really adding a new dimension on the right with Mo Salah and Trent Alexander-Arnold, and somehow already looking every inch Wijnaldum’s equal at just 18. 

And Curtis Jones, at 20, is a potential future superstar, with real maturity being added to his game (he seems to be growing up fast as a man as well as a player), in addition to a touch more strength and pace as he leaves his teen years well behind. Kaide Gordon, just 16 and soon to turn 17, could also be at those levels by the spring of 2022, albeit after what happened to Elliott (against Burnley and Leeds), he’ll need protection from 15-stone thugs. He’s yet another elite age-group player. 

In addition to Elliott, Jones, Minamino, Konaté and Tsimikas, the duo of Thiago and Diogo Jota are newer members of a squad that also includes the fast-improving Caoimhin Kelleher as backup keeper. The squad is deeper, and there are more options than in 2019/20. The XI remains strong, and the backups are now stronger.

The difference is that the lowering of FFP regulations has allowed the petrodollar-doped rivals to buy beyond “fair” means, and Liverpool cannot compete at that game, with the funding this year mostly going into a dozen pay-rises, with more to follow. 

The rivals do feel stronger, but Liverpool cannot buy superstars they cannot afford, just as I can’t afford to buy a Ferrari just because my neighbour buys one (albeit a posh car around my way is a 10-year-old BMW, and I drive a 13-year-old Ford – when there’s petrol).

There have been some sensible signings by rivals, but also some moments of real vanity. 

Egotists 

The one thing I often talk about when buying a player is the potential of what can be lost, as well as gained.  

When Manchester United signed Cristiano Ronaldo, I expected him to score goals, but what would they lose by introducing a player who was in the bottom 1% for work-rate by strikers in Europe? Would Ronaldo take so many shots from poor positions because that’s what he does? How do you quantify all the good chances you don’t create because someone else keeps shooting from 30 yards, or because he does no pressing?

How would the previous go-to men feel, when usurped? Has his arrival turned Bruno Fernandes, banging in the goals and the penalties (a hat-trick on the opening day, before Ronaldo returned), into a goal-shy penalty-misser? It may be that, in time, Fernandes is actually more inspired by the presence of his legendary compatriot, but initially it seems that he might be overawed, or reduced to playing second-fiddle. It’s not that it’s a problem that cannot be solved; but it does appear to be an additional problem in need of solving. If Ronaldo’s presence ends up diminishing Fernandes, couldn’t that prove to be a bad thing? 

I wouldn’t write off Man United after three defeats in 10 days, and Ronaldo is still a goal machine; and Fernandes may regain his mojo. They have an enormous squad, that cost the most money to assemble when adjusted for inflation. (Just ahead of Man City, at an average £XI of over £700m, with Liverpool and Chelsea about £300m behind, and Arsenal and Spurs another £100m back, followed by Everton.)

But at some point soon that goal machine has to start developing rust, and then what? How is a player so famous he’s almost as big as the club (and clearly bigger than the manager) allowed to be phased out? The move is a gamble, in terms of the knock-on effects. Ronaldo is nearly 37, and who will bench him when he’s 38? What happens when the entire centre of attention starts to lose his mojo and finally melt? 

Steven Gerrard had a great penultimate season at Liverpool – as he raged at the dying of the light – but his final season a year later was full of acrimony, fading power and 6-1 defeats to Stoke (okay, there was just one of those, but that was one too many for this lifetime).

Then there’s the priceless – or should that be costly? – farce of James Rodriguez at Everton. 

Signed to win the 2020 transfer window, he arrived at a club he didn’t even want to play for – he admitted that he only wanted to play for the manager – to earn more per week than any of the Liverpool side who’d just been crowned champions (on the back of also winning the Champions League 12 months earlier). 

Andros Townsend, as a free transfer, already looks like better business; as does Demarai Gray, for peanuts. Neither would win you the transfer window; but they do look good business in the early days of this season. (I’m trying to mix my abiding affection for Rafa Benítez with a desire to not see him do too well.) As soon as Everton stop the churn of expensive signings (by their standards) and stop trying to win the transfer window they look half-decent.

In a very interesting Athletic article on Rodriguez, Patrick Boyland explains all that went wrong with the Colombian, but the author makes at least two utterly bizarre, wistful mentions of the poor Everton fans who never got to see Rodriguez in the flesh, as if it was Diego Maradona being discussed (or even an Everton legend, like Kevin Sheedy; or a current-day dedicated servant like Seamus Coleman – why would you want to see some feckless wastrel who never really displayed his talents for more than a game or two? Do some Man United fans pine over never having seen Alexis Sanchez in their colours? Do we mourn the fact that we never got to see World Cup-winner Bernard Diomède, although I was there for his overhead kick that hit the bar in one of his four games).

“That those fans never got to see him in the flesh is the greatest shame of all — Rodriguez’s move to Qatar is a sorry next step for a player who once had the world at his feet.”

Weird.

I love the story of Rodriguez at Everton (especially as it didn’t happen at our club), as it sums up almost everything that’s wrong with modern football: the transfer as form of dick-swinging; the player, whose move is overseen by super-agents, who is only there for the money, and who gets much more of it than the honest pros who work for the team and the club; the player who initially wows his teammates in training, only to soon be considered invisible, as if they feel they are playing games with 10 men when he’s strolling about; the player who has a great first month and then goes missing when the temperature drops below 20º C; the player who just takes a game off, as he can’t be arsed; the player disappearing on a private jet before the end of the season; the player as status symbol, not squad member and team player. And then the player given away, to get his £250,000-a-week wages off the bill as the club panics to meet even relaxed FFP standards after years of vanity purchasing. 

I’ve spoken at length about the importance of the ‘egosystem’ at Liverpool – the unquantifiable gains made when everyone is on the same wavelength, pulling in the same direction. And in fairness to Benítez, he is trying to do the same at Everton, with low-key buys who will give him honest endeavour. But he is doing so from a position of undoing an unholy mess of status-symbol transfers.

It’s why someone like Jürgen Klopp will say to anyone who wants to leave “there’s the door” (if your transfer value is met), because unity trumps individualism, and anyone who no longer sees themselves as part of the group is like an infectious wretch capable of passing on that viral disaffection. Obviously Klopp will speak to a player and try to resolve any simple problems, but he won’t indulge them or pander to fragile egos. If they badly want out, then keeping them can become toxic.

It’s why Klopp – unhappy with the increasingly moody Brazilian winger in late 2017 – cut the ties with Philippe Coutinho midseason; the club taking the £142m as fans went absolutely apeshit about how reckless FSG were (yawn), and how the club would never win the league or the Champions League with such a policy. Yet Klopp did not want to keep a sulking player who could start to drag down the mood of others. 

Well, what’s happened since, for both Liverpool and Coutinho? Liverpool banked £142m, which paid for van Dijk and Alisson, then reached the Champions League final, won the next Champions League final, and won the title; Coutinho was mocked in Spain, sent to Germany, and has picked up a couple of league titles by dint of just being present rather than any meaningful contributions (and played just twice for Brazil since 2019). 

Barcelona – obsessed with superstar signings, all of whom tanked – are now €1.2billion in debt. Meanwhile, clubs that tried to spend their way into the Premier League are going bankrupt. The Championship is like one giant Ponzi scheme, waiting for the cards to fall.

Hubris

But I’ve also seen hubris and vanity turn Spurs from incredible overachievers on a relative small budget who ran the Reds close to the Champions League in 2019 (and went close in league title races) to succumb to a succession of dumbass big-dick decisions.

First they ditched their elite manager, and – as I called it at the time – replaced him with a man who played the wrong style of football for the squad. He was appointed on the outdated basis that he was a “winner”. 

I loathe the concept of the “winner” as a constant quality in a manager, because Brian Clough was an incredible winner in the 1970s and then not-much-of-a-winner in the 1980s, and a total loser by the 1990s. 

Arsène Wenger won with the best football imaginable between 1997 and 2004, and then – like Clough – went from title-winner to trying to hoover up a domestic cup or two (which I don’t count as being a winner; otherwise Juande Ramos would have a statue at Spurs). George Graham won two titles with Arsenal around the turn of the 1990s, then slipped into obscurity, via some stuffed brown envelopes. 

Howard Kendall was just one of several managers who returned at least three times to manage the same club, and almost all of them saw a big drop in their win percentage every successive time they took charge. (And Kenny Dalglish’s second stint at Liverpool was far worse than his first, albeit I still back the decision, as the need was for him to be better than Roy Hodgson to rescue 2010/11, and that was achieved. I don’t think we expected miracles.)

All of these men were absolute winners. Until they couldn’t win as often anymore. 

Arrigo Sacchi returned to AC Milan having won everything, and second time won only 28% of his games. Fabio Capello went from being like Bob Paisley in his first spell at AC Milan to being more like Roy Hodgson in his second. (The classic 36% win rate.)

Radomir ‘Raddy’ Antić had three spells at Atlético Madrid in quick succession, and each time, like Sacchi, he halved his win percentage: from 51% to 28% to 13%. One more go and it would have been 6%. A rare exception is Jupp Heynckes, who always did well at Bayern, albeit Bayern have a monopoly on the Bundesliga. Any club who finishes 2nd can be certain that Bayern will simply nab their best players. How is that “fair”? 

(It’s ‘funny’, shall we say, that Bayern and PSG were two of the only big clubs to oppose the European Super League, when they have won 17 of the last 20 combined titles in Germany and France, and are likely to make it 19 from 22 this season. They have no insecurity about qualifying for the Champions League as they don’t really even have much when it comes to winning their own league. Now PSG – backed by Qatari-based financial doping – have gained more control of the club scene in Europe, too. None of which is to say the ESL was an idea I would back, but equally, it remains an idea that was blown out of the water in the usual red-faced online outrage before its merits could even be discussed. Football is broken in so many ways, and as with anything that’s broken, you need to discuss all the potential fixes – not simply justify continuing on the same path when it’s leading to chaos. But I digress.…) 

And while Mourinho won the title in his second stint at Chelsea, it was a far less successful spell overall, and soon he looked to be on the Clough and Wenger train from title-contender to League Cup aspirant. (Spurs sacked him days before he could have won one for them, which seems odd, if he was such a winner; and at least winning the League Cup was something he remained good at.) 

Five years is a long time in football, given how the game changes. Managers don’t lose all their skills (or knowledge) overnight, but the game can evolve to make some of their cutting edge abilities seem a little old school. Every year that a manager ages also takes him a year further away from the players he must inspire. Mourinho – greying and grumpy – was a nightmare waiting to happen, and whenever he leaves a club it’s usually in a mess.

I’d already noted down that Spurs’ new stadium feels more like a vanity project, given the incredible debt involved (although long-term it may prove a wise move, if it doesn’t sink them first), when I read that Phil McNulty noted in a piece today that: 

“Mourinho appeared very much a quick fix, Levy-led vanity project that was an expensive failure.”

Vanity stadium. Vanity appointment, followed by a sacking with no plan (days before a domestic cup final), and a recruitment botch-job where Nuno (who did well at Wolves, albeit with about a dozen compatriots who would buy into his ideas) was like the chubby kid with two left feet who gets picked last for a kickabout. Spurs ran out of alternatives.

I also saw it as offensive to the Spurs fans that their Argentine and Colombian players preferred to go off and abandon their club and accept 10 days quarantining in Croatia when the rest of the league (bar Aston Villa) had accepted, as one, that it wasn’t fair to take their wages and be unavailable for their clubs after the last international break. Without them, Spurs duly lost 3-0 at Crystal Palace. I can’t express how disrespectful that is to the fans whose costly season ticket and hefty television subscriptions pay their wages. International football is important to players, and that’s fair enough; but the clubs and those fans pay their wages. It stinks of mercenaries, not really wanting to be there. Where’s the unity?

Then there’s the star player who wants out. Without Harry Kane, Spurs beat Man City and won away at Wolves. They unified. With him returning to the team, they’ve won one league game and lost three, to a goal difference of 2-9 (and Kane scored neither of those two goals).

Yesterday, Arsenal twice scored soon after Kane took (or tried to take) an utterly stupid shot from a ludicrous distance instead of passing to his teammates. When, on the second occasion (as he miskicked), he at least chased back to redeem himself – and then slid the ball perfectly for an assist to Arsenal (and it’s nice to see the brilliant Bukayo Saka having such a good time after the Euros; kudos to Kane for setting him up). 

Kane looked moody, selfish and like a man dragging a team down with him, as they rank 20th out of 20 for distance covered.  

I keep hearing that he’s the “consummate professional”, but I’m not sure his behaviour this summer was anything other than a bit shitty, even if a lot of players do it. Going on strike is hardly the sign of an ultimate pro, even if it what a lot do to force through a move that breaks their contract.

Then there’s the vanity signing of Tanguy Ndombele, for a fee of up to £65m, for a talented player who appears to have the heart and desire of an ageing diabetic field mouse. 

Cohesion

I guess this is just a way to say that cohesion is more important than anything else in football. That talent is involved is a given, because all players have talent. Hunger, unity, work-rate, commitment, wavelength-understanding (which increases with time spent training and playing together), respect for your colleagues – all of these make a team. 

Liverpool, under Klopp, are all about being a team. They are not about individuals, and for all the lack of big-money buys this summer, the strengths are all still there.

Mo Salah is the biggest star, but he tracks back to defend in the full-back positions, and runs his chunky socks off. He is the main man, but not put on a pedestal and worshipped; he is part of the team, working hard for everyone else. If all these players stay fit, and give their all, the Reds stand a chance, even with FFP now favouring those who prop up clubs with oil-based wealth.

It’s a question of being a combined force, to exceed the sum of the parts. 

As the famous poem states:  

Though much is taken, much abides; and though

We are not now that strength which in old days

Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are,

One equal temper of heroic hearts,

Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson*

* NOTE: I DO NOT KNOW TENNYSON’S PERSONAL STORY, BUT HE WAS LIKELY A PRODUCT OF HIS TIME, AND AS SUCH, I DO NOT CONDONE ANY 19TH-CENTURY BELIEFS HE HAD IN THE, ER, 19TH CENTURY (HOW DARE HE!). AND AT LEAST HE DIDN’T REFER TO WOMEN AS “BODIES WITH VAGINAS”, WHICH WILL SURELY DATE ABOUT AS BADLY AS ANY PHRASE IN THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. I WRITE THIS AS A FLESH-SLAB WITH A PENIS, ALBEIT IT SEEMS THAT I ACTUALLY HAVE THREE PENISES, AND REALLY MUST SEE THE DOCTOR ABOUT THIS – JUST NOT ONE CONNECTED TO THE LANCET.

Thursday, September 9, 2021

FIFTEEN New Players For Liverpool – Write Reds Off At Your Peril @ By Paul Tomkins

 https://tomkinstimes.com/2021/08/fifteen-new-players-for-liverpool-write-reds-off-at-your-peril/

In By Paul TomkinsFreeSite News

 

After Monday’s big free piece, in a week of great subscriber-only content on TTT, I thought it was worth a further free article to just make a point about what a lot of observers seem to be missing about Liverpool’s team right now.

To me, it feels almost as if Liverpool have just signed FIFTEEN “new” players – from the point where the Reds were top of the league last season before Christmas. It may be a cliché, but returning players are often just like new signings.

Indeed, often better.

These are fifteen players who played only a limited role in the last campaign.

Virgil van Dijk, Joe Gomez and Joel Matip all had their seasons ended before halfway; two of them well before halfway. Jordan Henderson played just 21 league games, starting 20, and essentially it was therefore just 19 – half the season – when considering that he limped off early against Everton.

Diogo Jota, in terms of actual time on the pitch (as he started out as a sub, before getting injured and then returning as a sub), played just 1,113 minutes, or less than a third of the season. A full season is 3,420 minutes. Nat Phillips played more minutes.

Add that a few hundred of Jota’s minutes were when returning from a serious knee injury, and he had the issue that so many others had: nowhere near match-fit when playing after long lay-offs.

Even then, he scored the equivalent of 27 non-penalty league goals when extrapolated. He also added four more in the Champions League, and has scored a fairly incredible seven international goals in the last 11 months – all of which that suggests the extrapolation may have some validity. At the very least, he’s developed into a player capable of 25 goals in a season in a top team.

Trent Alexander-Arnold had a campaign beset with Covid, injuries and niggles, and like so many, looked unfit without a proper preseason. But only in the final 1-2 months did he look like he was back to his physical best, to arguably then play the best football of his career (aided, as explained in The Athletic, by some peripheral vision training; the lad already had supreme “vision”). At 22, he’s still going to improve. Soon he’ll be able to see out the back of his head.

Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain, who relies on his pace and power, missed the first half of last season, and returned lacking both that pace and that power. Like Trent, he only looked sharp in the final weeks of the season. He played just 246 minutes, and while he’s not a definite starter, a fit ‘Ox’ is a totally different proposition. In preseason he looked better than ever, and while it was only preseason, it was against top-division German and Spanish teams. He’s in supreme shape, and gives the Reds something different.

Then there’s the maestro Thiago, who only played around half the games in 2020/21 (1,858 minutes), largely due to Richarlison’s assault.

He appeared to settle quickly in crazy a game-and-a-half, then missed months. He returned to a struggling side missing it’s giant defenders and midfield bodyguards, and he spent months after his return being a fraction late in almost every tackle – often using the ball well, but not quite adjusted to the Premier League on the whole. But again, like Alexander-Arnold and Oxlade-Chamberlain, it clicked in the final half-dozen games, playing a slightly more advanced role (where he gave away fewer free-kicks).

Naby Keïta saw another season pass him by, with just 500-or-so minutes played, but he is now fit again; and if it can stay that way this is an elite player, who can dribble, press like crazy and score goals. As with ‘Ox’, you wouldn’t bank on him being fit, but he’s top-quality when he is. Like his fellow midfielder, it’s harder for him to play fewer minutes than last season.

And while not listed as a new signing, Dr Andreas Schlumberger only arrived earlier this year. “If you would ask people in Germany, in this area – rehab, performance, recovery – he is No.1 in Germany,” Jürgen Klopp said in January. He’ll help players like Keïta and ‘Ox’.

It’s another behind-the-scenes improvement that people just notice, or laugh at – like Thomas Grønnemark – until suddenly results improve massively. There were no “Announce Schlumberger” trends or demands on Twitter.

Kostas Tsimikas should be another bonus – a fast, winger-like full-back who got Covid-19 soon after arriving, then was one of over half-a-dozen serious knee-injury victims at Liverpool, on the end of brutal challenges; then could not easily be used in the run-in due to the changes all over the defence. As with Thiago, he’s had a season to adjust to the Liverpool way, and the English style, as well as settling in with the team culture and Liverpool FC egosystem. Not all new signings settle, but you have to give everyone at least a year of leeway.

Ibrahima Konaté has of course joined, as the one proper signing. He’s arguably the most complete young centre-back in world football. It could take a while to adapt, but he had the full month in Evian in preseason, which is something Ozan Kabak never had last year (and it showed). More than anything, back four-work is about unity and understanding; and while attacking can be improved with the same kind of work, a front three doesn’t have to be perfectly in line at any point, in contrast to a back four. It’s about synchronicity, and that takes training-ground work.

Returning from loan is Harvey Elliott – who can spot passes some elite playmakers would struggle to see – ready for the Premier League. He’s not the quickest or tallest, but he is extremely ‘lively’. And incredibly clever. He can create and finish, and the sky is the limit. This is no ordinary 18-year-old, and indeed, he only turned 18 at the end of a superb season in the Championship. He went there a boy and returned man.

Taki Minamino – whose off-the-ball running opened up a ton of space in the 7-0 win at Crystal Palace – went away to gain some regular starting experience of the Premier League. He finally had a proper preseason, after a stop-start Liverpool career, where he experienced no fewer than four down-periods before his loan to Southampton.

It’s one thing buying new players, but you also have to wait for the ones you’ve bought to settle in, and as noted, many can take 6-12 months (and some, like İlkay Gündoğan at City, only went up a level or two aged 30, after years in England; in part after escaping an injury hell).

Taki looks brighter, sharper and more relaxed, and while he’s unlikely to make the first XI, it seems that he has that vital boost of confidence and feeling like he finally belongs at this level.

Ben Davies also joined in 2021, and at worst he’ll be a reasonable backup in emergencies.

Kaide Gordon only arrived in February, yet at 16 he looks ready for the Premier League, if not as a starter. Like Elliott, he was training with the first team at a Championship club at the age of 15 and playing for them at the age of 16.

He’s fast, supremely gifted, and fearless. Like Elliott, he looks a potential future superstar, if he can steer clear of injuries and remain as level-headed as he has been so far. Elliott, 18 months older, has developed a lot more physically in the past year, but both look like elite players for their age, and both have brilliant attitudes. They arrived without fanfare, and that’s often the best way.

And then there’s Ben Woodburn – a player I stated several years ago might only make a mark once he was 20-or-so (as he lacked pace, height and strength, but had a good football brain) – has grown, got stronger and even looks zippier.

In September 2017 I wrote:

“Ben Woodburn, by contrast to the emerging full-blanket talents, looks like an elite creative force who works hard too, but who doesn’t have blanket-stretching pace. (Of course, it’s no use having super-quick players who are useless either.) Woodburn is like Kenny Dalglish in how quickly he sees things without being able to run like a sprinter, although it’s fair to say that Woodburn is quicker than the King. (And he certainly is now, with Dalglish 66.) As I’ve said many times, Dalglish only properly broke through at Celtic aged 20, and Paul Scholes (whose shooting I likened Woodburn’s to in the summer) was also 20 when he got the nod at United. To be that good at 17 is remarkable, but this is his transition season.”

(This was in an article calling for patience for Klopp, in the face of accusations that he was no better than Brendan Rodgers at Liverpool.)

By this stage, Liverpool’s system started to rely on searing pace, especially in the wide attacking areas, and Woodburn fell away. I also made it clear on plenty of occasions that I didn’t think he would be as good as Dalglish (who could be?), just that the slower, thoughtful attacker takes longer to make an impact. Searing pace takes years off the time it takes to make a big impact. Pace can get you in the team as a regular at 18, but few slower players can do that.

To be honest, given that he turned 21 last year, I’d written him off when things didn’t work out at Blackpool, but he had a fantastic period of training with the senior team after his unsuccessful (but educational) loans, including a hat-trick in a game behind closed doors; and shone in the U23s with new nerve and vigour, and now looks like the player many of us thought he could become when aged just 16. He’s bigger, stronger and a bit faster, albeit not fast enough to be ideal in this front three. He was nothing short of sensational in preseason, and at the very least, it shows his talent and rediscovered desire. Now he has to take that forward.

I’d be delighted to see him continue to emerge, after a difficult few years of physical and emotional transition (all the hype, then the stagnation and rejection, before overcoming those setbacks). Both Klopp and Pep Lijnders singled him out this week as a special talent. Had he been blessed with the pace of a Michael Owen he’d have been in the team years ago, but sometimes non-sprinters only become good players as they have to rely on their thinking. To me, he was the biggest bonus in a preseason of many, many bonuses.

So, that’s fifteen players who either barely featured last season, or who played, at most, a maximum of about half the minutes (bar Alexander-Arnold, who played more, but often under par).

Indeed, Thiago missed many months, and had games as a sub at the start of the season and after his long layoff, and yet still ranked 9th for league minutes played, at just over half; while the Reds, with no comfort games to hand out debuts (such as after the league was won) were forced into using no fewer than 28 players in the 38 games.

That’s chaos. (And it felt like 27 of them were centre-backs.)

The 15 also doesn’t include Divock Origi, who played just 182 league minutes; although he’s not someone – in contrast to most of the others – who, if he stays, you’d expect to nail down a place in the side if he got a run of games. (It hasn’t helped him that he only gets a game every now and then, as the main strikers are – touch wood – so rarely injured. He’s better than people realise, but he rarely gets a run of games; the two times he has, in 2016 and 2019, he did very well, but then he had his leg broken in 2016, and the season ended in 2019).

Ditto Xherdan Shaqiri, who may be leaving – still a very good player, but he didn’t feature a lot last season. Bar two superb assists, I felt he was fairly quiet when he did play.

It also doesn’t include another young wildcard or two – the unexpected player who pushes his way into the first-team picture; maybe Owen Beck, albeit he’s got some filling out to do, or Leighton Clarkson, a majestic passer who is only 5’7″ (which is not a problem if he has tall bodyguards, but would be if in a small XI overall; Liverpool’s results last season were worst when the XI was small, and best when the XI was tall).

The Reds – already set-piece specialists when the big guns were in the team – have appointed new set-piece experts as well; another quiet piece of evolution. (#AnnounceSetPieceGurus never caught on.)

Indeed, whenever van Dijk and Matip start together, the Reds, as a team, score a goal every three games; last season, when both were out, the Reds went five months without a set-piece goal. The set-piece threat this season is likely to be supremely high again, having been non-existent due to injuries last season.

In contrast to the “returns”, Liverpool have lost Gini Wijnaldum (sadly; albeit, a player approaching 31), as well as Kabak – although the latter, while honest and not a disaster, was not yet settled into the defensive line, nor the pace of the Premier League (or the aerial challenges, where his stats were dreadful), and results improved only after he got injured – and taller, English-football-accustomed players introduced. Indeed, Rhys Williams, aged just 19 at the midway point, played more league minutes than both Virgil van Dijk and Joe Gomez.

Nat Phillips, seen as a Championship player, was one of the 11 who played the most league minutes last season.

Konaté appears a huge upgrade on Kabak, in part due to his extra size and strength, but also his dribbling skills and passing. All of the other departures so far have been players who were out on loan anyway, and if Origi and/or Shaqiri leave, it’s still players who barely featured last season.

In terms of age, only Henderson, now 31, is in the melt-zone, aside from the never-melter, James Milner.

Another “bonus” from all the injuries from last season – aside from squad players getting time in the team to develop – is that it gave them a chance to rest and reset, after several intense seasons. They can come back hungrier, and the whole team has gone from the pressure of defending their title to the anger of trying to win it back.

As I’ve noted all summer, Liverpool can’t let the current team stay together for the next few years, as it needs refreshing; but not immediately. And for all the talk of Sadio Mané fading last season, his underlying numbers were largely excellent. He was as fast as ever, brilliant at dribbling and taking the ball into the box, but he just had a dip with his finishing, as did Roberto Firmino, whose goals tally tends to rise and fall more than others, but who is always a creator of space and a drawer of attention. Both have finished superbly in preseason.

And even the dreaded African Cup of Nations (if it goes ahead) occurs mostly when it’s the early FA Cup rounds. (Plus, as the three who are going play for different nations, there’s no chance all three will be there all the way to the final, and as such, all three could be home early.)

Then there’s the energy, the buzz, the super-fitness, that was missing last season, with the 2020 preseason plans left in tatters by Covid protocols, when there already wasn’t enough time to get the stamina up to the levels required for insanely hard pressing that defined the team.

That insane pressing can now return, buoyed by the fans. That pressing could be worth 10-20 points. (Plus, van Dijk’s passing alone feels worth 10 points a season, without getting onto the set-piece threat he, Matip and Konaté could pose. Set-piece goals also take pressure off the strikers. And of course, Liverpool can now send Alisson up for every corner 😉 Career stats: headers: one. Goals: one.)

The home form – imperious under Klopp for about four years until the crowds were kept out – will surely not be as bad again. Last season was terrible for home form for all teams, overall, but it clearly affected Liverpool, as the contrast to the previous seasons was so stark. As Mark Cohen showed in his bumper season preview, it was a total outlier. That weird run of losses would surely never have occurred with a full Anfield.

And so, imagine if Liverpool had actually just signed van Dijk, Gomez, Matip, Thiago, Tsmikas, Konaté, Elliott, Keita, Davies, Jota, Minamino, Oxlade-Chamberlain, Henderson, Woodburn and Gordon, for £350m. Everyone would be going insane with joy.

Yet the Reds have essentially done that, compared to what was seen for a lot of last season – and unlike new signings, they are bedded in, and committed. They know the club, the pressure, the tactics, the pressing, the movement, the ethos. They can hit the ground running. (Although van Dijk and Gomez are a couple of weeks behind the others in terms of fitness work.)

Of course, another dozen injuries could occur – but if so, that would be hard for any club to deal with. Take away all the best players from any team and it will obviously get weaker.

One of the issues last year was how many players were on the end of bad tackles or unfortunate falls, rather than an excess of muscle injuries through bad preparation (albeit the lack of a proper preseason didn’t help). If the same players, or the few key players who escaped them last season, succumb again, then apart from those recovering from surgeries that carry some risk of recurrence, that could also be bad luck.

Teams can often carry on without two or three major players, but for shorter periods; half the squad, for longer periods, is near impossible for any club to deal with.

(People outside of this site still talk to me as if van Dijk was the only player missing last season. The Reds were top of the league months after he got injured. The much bigger problem was all the other players getting injured too. Again, Liverpool were top without van Dijk, Thiago and others, but once Matip joined Gomez, Jota and others in falling, it was a bridge too far.)

So far, missing Andy Robertson for a few games is nothing too great to fear, especially as Tsimikas looked so sharp in preseason, and arguably attacks even better, with the ability to dribble infield and deliver a wider range of crosses; but Robertson is still the more dogged defender and gutsy competitor.

For so many pundits to write Liverpool off is absurd; the only senior player to arrive when winning the league was a reserve keeper. (Plus, Minamino halfway through.) With no new outfield players to integrate, Liverpool racked up 26 wins and a draw from their first 27 games – taking 79 points out of 81 on offer, and reached 30 league wins faster than any team in English top-flight history.

A fit squad, that is settled and fully on the same wavelength, and has what I call a Kloppian preseason under their belts, can trump major signings (which isn’t to therefore saying signings are “bad”).

That Liverpool finished 3rd with their 7th and 8th choice centre-backs, and, under pressure, won eight and drew two of the final ten games, despite so many absentees, should remind people what Klopp is capable of, with the tools provided by the people above him at the club, and those he has appointed to work alongside him, including the best coach in football, Pep Lijnders.

Let people write Liverpool off, but don’t ignore that this is largely the title and Champions League-winning squad, and that even since 2019, only Wijnaldum, of the players of note, has left; while only Henderson is older than 30 (he’s 31), so it’s not like we’re talking about Mo Salah, Mané, Matip, Firmino or van Dijk being 34 or 35 and on their last legs.

At 29/30, they are still at their peak, but younger players will be gradually phased in over the next two seasons.

And so, in Wijnaldum, only one first XI player has left since 2019, and he is about to turn 31.

Otherwise it’s been: Dejan Lovren, 4th-choice centre-back, now aged 32; Alberto Moreno, as a largely unused reserve left-back; plus Daniel Sturridge and Adam Lallana, two players now well into their decline (32/33) who barely started games later on at Liverpool, are the other main departures from those two crazily successful seasons.

Players added in that time? Thiago, Jota, Konaté, Elliott, Tsimikas, Gordon, Minamino, as well as the emergence of the brilliant Curtis Jones (for a lad who’s just 20) and Caoimhín Kelleher (aged just 22, the best no.2 the club have had in years), as well as other kids who gained vital first team experience. So the idea that Liverpool have not already been refreshing and revamping is clearly wrong.

Thiago, Jota and Konaté are all better and younger than the players they replaced, while the others are longer-term investments, with a couple of potential future superstars – and in the case of Elliott, someone who looks ready now.

Yes, rivals have also strengthened, but they have to integrate all the new players, and they don’t have the kind of returning brilliance that the Reds do. I wouldn’t make Liverpool favourites, but to write off the Reds seems weird to me.

Site News

As you may have seen, we’ve given the site an overhaul, to provide much needed improvement in performance, but also appearance and functionality.

To explain the changes to subscribers (i.e. the people who keep the site funded and alive!), see the details below.

This site news is for subscribers only.



Total Madness At Barça and Inter Show Why FSG Are Running Liverpool Properly @ By Paul Tomkins

 https://tomkinstimes.com/2021/08/total-madness-at-barca-and-inter-show-why-fsg-are-running-liverpool-properly/

 

This in-depth free article – warning: contains ideas – appears on here (TTT), and on the TTT Substack newsletter (click link to sign up). 

One of the reasons I’ve generally defended FSG – if not all their judgement calls – since they baled Liverpool out of near-bankruptcy in 2010 is my preference for sensible, calculated ownership over emotional, often irrational decision makers, who play egotistical, high risk games with a club’s future.

Now, I can be an emotional guy. But I’m also more of an arsehole when I’m emotional. I’m much nicer, much smarter, when I’m less emotional. With age, wisdom, meditation and a little medication, I try to limit my arseholery, but obviously I have lapses, especially when running a stressful business (upon which several other people also with chronic illnesses rely for their income) and trying to maintain a forum engaging in discussion about a high-passion issue. 

(One of the many reasons I despise Twitter is how much of an arsehole it makes me; and if I can see it doing that to me – as someone who never even spent 15 hours a day on there like some, and who has had varying IRL experiences amongst diverse communities, and have mostly only minor mental health issues – I can see it doing that to everyone on there, and then some. I see public performance arseholery taken to the level of an art form, and people with personality disorders scaring others into silence. Maybe that this stage, Tristan Harris is our only hope.) 

Anyway, at that time in 2010, FFP was being introduced, and so gazillionaire owners weren’t going to be as powerful; it was more about strategy than just financial power. FSG (then called NESV) had ended a near-90-year wait for a title with the Boston Red Sox, using smarts. And people were wary? 

I’d spent the previous few years – in books and writing a weekly column for the official Liverpool website from 2005-2010, and then on here from 2009 – noting how much of a financial advantage Chelsea (financially doped) and Manchester United (off-field Goliaths) had over the Reds, and that gap only grew as Tom Hicks and George Gillett, a couple of chumps who had an acrimonious fallout, looked intent on driving Liverpool into the ground, complete with some little cock-strutter in Cuban heels.  

Whether or not Liverpool won the league or the Champions League after 2010, the aim, to me, was always to avoid seeing the Reds become a Leeds United; to be competitive, without being reckless. 

That was the one message I took from the 2000s, above all others. I never studied Greek mythology but I knew enough to see how Icarus perished. Sure, I’d like the Reds to win the league, but not at the risk of existential oblivion. That Leeds implosion scared me, as about 12 months earlier they were on a par with Liverpool, with a superb young team that was going places. That was the cautionary tale some younger fans may not be aware of. 

The places that team went, instead, were to Liverpool (Harry Kewell), Spurs (Robbie Keane and Paul Robinson), Roma (Olivier Dacourt), Newcastle (Jonathan Woodgate and James Milner), West Ham (Lee Bowyer), Man City (Robbie Fowler), Everton (Nigel Martyn), Middlesbrough (Danny Mills and Mark Viduka), Levante (Ian Harte), Man United (Alan Smith), Hull City (Nicky Barmby) and Blackburn Rovers (Dominic Matteo). All in the space of twelve months (and these were just the senior players). 

That would be the same as Liverpool selling Alisson, Caoimhin Kelleher, Trent Alexander-Arnold, Joe Gomez, Joel Matip, Virgil van Dijk, Andy Robertson, Thiago, Jordan Henderson, Fabinho, Diogo Jota, Roberto Firmino, Mo Salah and Sadio Mané between now and next summer, in the process of getting relegated. 

Some Liverpool fans still crave oligarchs or sovereign state owners, and care not if their wealth was built on the deaths and impoverishment and human rights violations of many, many people, so long as they “announce Mbappé”; by comparison to which, a few bespectacled American capitalists with slightly awkward social skills are surely not so distasteful. 

While FSG have made plenty of mistakes, they oversaw the delivery of two landmark trophies (the league after 30 years of waiting, to add to quickly ending the 84 year wait in Boston), and even in the midst of a global pandemic, did not leave the club at risk. 

Maybe that last fact is the most important. Even in the midst of a global pandemic, did not leave the club at risk

Again, maybe that last fact is the most important.

It now means less money to spend on transfers, but it also means sensibly securing the future of the club with new deals – spending via wages – for the best players aged 28 and under, and investing in teenagers with talent, hunger and humility, like the ridiculously prodigious Harvey Elliott and Kaide Gordon, amongst others. 

(I’ve done a lot of work in the last 11 years in analysing several thousands transfers in the entire Premier League era, doing so in books, an academic paper, and also at the request of a European Union study – and establishing the role transfer spending has in success. But the correlation has never really been about one transfer window, or an arbitrary period of net spend. It’s about the total cost of the assembled team and squad, adjusted for inflation – it tracks fairly well with success. But it was also never to undermine the wage bill model, which does similar. There are pros and cons to both, depending on how clubs spend their money; and Liverpool have spent more, relatively speaking, on wages than transfers. You could call FSG misers over their low net spend, but they’ve ramped up the wage bill in a big, big way.) 

Deals for those closer to, or already over 30, are surely being negotiated, but without tying the club to excessively long-term or wage-bill distorting deals that would be costly when those 8-10 players – all soon to be in their 30s – then melt; which inevitable decline could be within a year, or within five years – no one knows the timing, other than, on average, players are better at 29 than they are at 34. (And no one wants a team of Trent Alexander-Arnold and ten 34-year-olds.)

Other fans want fan ownership, but my fear – having spent over 20 years discussing Liverpool online – is that a lot of fans are bonkers. Even the smarter ones.  

They are emotional and irrational, and social media has only sped up the irrationality and hyped up the emotion. 

(One of the worst things about social media is that, because nuance is difficult on places like Twitter, people then began to argue that nuance itself is problematic; which is like saying, where breathing is difficult, that we really need to do away with oxygen.)

The very thing that makes Liverpool fans great inside Anfield – passion, noisiness and sometimes irrational belief – are not what I want to see in a boardroom. (Although that doesn’t mean I oppose some fan representation; and I wouldn’t be opposed to someone at the table suddenly singing the full song for each player every time their name gets mentioned.)

Barcelona are an even bigger club than Liverpool – there are not many – and they also haven’t had gazillionaire owners who are sportswashing their way to a kind of unpalatable success; but have had some kind of fan ownership. 

(“Barcelona is a members-owned club, with over 144,000 members, and fans are encouraged to become members. This means that Barcelona is not owned outright by a single individual and decisions regarding the future direction of the club are made by the members.”)

From what I can tell, it is all driven by some kind of election system, and we all know how honest, reputable people who never lie or make ludicrous promises to curry favour don’t like to try and prosper from election systems in order to feather their own nests and elevate their own egos. Election systems are clearly logical, and always produce balanced outcomes, with zero false promises. No cockwombles are ever elected, right?

Maybe there is a way to marry different forms of ownership, but looking at the absolute catastrafucks at Barça and now Inter Milan (amongst many other clubs across Europe), I can’t help but feel grateful that for all their mistakes, Liverpool have been run by people who have kept the club stable. Indeed, the team has been more competitive than I ever dare imagine (the Reds rose the 4th-best team in European history in 2020 based on the Elo Rankings, breaking many all-time English records in the process), and have navigated a situation where several other clubs who spent like there was no tomorrow are close to finding that … well, there is no tomorrow. 

Two years ago, Barça had a wage bill four times that of a fairly large English club; now they are closer to having the wage bill of a Burnley. Until late last week, they were trying to give a third of that wage bill to just one player, and to pay him until he was 39. They couldn’t even register the four big-name free transfers they had signed (and it would have been a fifth but for PSG gazumping them over Gini Wijnaldum), because in recent years they’d splashed over £100m a pop on several players who failed to make them any better, and La Liga enforces strict FFP laws that it would be nice to see in the Premier League. 

Barça’s view seemed to be that La Liga will simply change its rules for them and Messi, like a man caught doing 195mph in a 70mph zone asking that, if it’s okay, they could just increase the speed limit by 125mph, and then everything would be okay.

While Liverpool – in recent times – are famous for negotiating startlingly low transfer fees for players whose value doubles and trebles almost overnight (and selling players for far more than they were worth), Barcelona were going into deals like dumbed down versions of Bill and Ted. 

From Simon Kuper, in an article about his new book on Barça:

When a club sells a player for €220 million, it doesn’t actually have €220 million to spend. There are taxes, agents’ fees and payments by instalment. Still, every other football club in 2017 knew Bartomeu had a wad of money in his back pocket and a need for a human trophy to wave in front of Barça’s 150,000 Neymar-deprived club members.

Instead [of getting Mbappé], Barça targeted another young Frenchman, Borussia Dortmund’s Ousmane Dembélé. Three weeks after Neymar left, Bartomeu and another Barcelona official flew to negotiate Dembélé’s transfer with their German counterparts in Monte Carlo, a favourite hub of the football business.

The Barça duo landed with a firm resolution, reported the New York Times: they would pay a transfer fee of at most €80 million. Anything more and they would walk away. Before walking into the assigned room, the two men hugged.

But in the room, they got a surprise. The Germans said they had no time to chat, had a plane to catch, wouldn’t negotiate and wanted about double Barcelona’s budgeted sum for Dembélé. Bartomeu gave in. After all, he was president of the world’s richest club, and still something of a football virgin. He committed to pay €105 million up front, plus €42 million in easily obtained performance bonuses – more than Mbappé would have cost.

Not six months later, Barça paid Liverpool €160 million for the Brazilian creator Philippe Coutinho. Neymar’s transfer fee had been blown, and more. A transfer fee of more than €100 million should be a guarantee against failure, but neither Dembélé nor Coutinho ­succeeded at Barça.

It’s not just Barça.

Inter Milan, immediately after winning the title, are without their elite manager, and the entire squad is up for sale. It smells very much of Leeds United, circa 2003. In France, clubs are in trouble – albeit there’s one that is so rich and aims to add Lionel Messi to its sportswashing empire, as it turns a farmer’s league into a farmer’s cakewalk.

Football all over Europe is in turmoil, and while it’s partly due to Covid, it’s more a case of the chickens coming home to roost for clubs run irresponsibly, with greed, poor planning, vanity and irrationality. 

We live in an increasingly “pay for it later” society, as if the bills will never come in. I find fewer and fewer people living in “reality” (in all realms of life), but see the world as they want it to be, rather than how it is. 

But then Covid hit. Even before Covid, I felt sickened seeing insanely big businesses built only on borrowing, that are run at losses to drive the honest competition out of business, and then, if they have played their cards right, they sweep up. Or, they go bust, having manufactured nothing but some incredible share value and a lot of hype. (I’m not an expert on businesses, in case that isn’t clear, beyond running this modest one for 12 years. This was built on zero borrowing, but the idea of doing the work, and getting paid for it.)

At a time when I expect many fans are going crazy at the lack of c.£100m signings at Liverpool (while rivals rack them up), the Reds have to do the more sensible thing, and sign up the players they want to keep on longer term contracts. They have to safeguard the future of the club whilst keeping the team as competitive as possible. 

It’s not as exciting when Alisson signs a 6-year deal – sans fanfare – as it must be when £100m Jack Grealish can be shown in his socks lounging on some leather throne like he’s just won the World Cup, but for Liverpool, supreme management of the wage bill has been a vital factor in over-performance on the overall budget (transfer spending + wages), allied to the talent scouting (Michael Edwards and co.) and player-improving (Jürgen Klopp and co.)

Rather than spend excessively on transfer fees, bar a couple of big-game (rather than big-name) players, the Reds worked on an incentivised wage structure, that meant the players could earn a lot of money – but only if they were successful; and if successful, the money to fund it would arrive via the rewards of increased television, merchandising, sponsorship and performance-related income streams. (And even the most expensive players did not come in on the highest wages.) 

If they weren’t successful, the wage bill would drop, meaning less risk. 

Of course, even that sensible strategy took a hit with the unprecedented alterations of Covid-19, that took away TV money and all crowd-related income, but Liverpool were close to going broke 11 years ago, under the previous American owners (a pair of morons who borrowed money just to buy the club, which it then leveraged against the club), and there was no pandemic then. There was a financial crash, but we’ve just had a financial crash and the removal of almost all fans from matches for the last 18 months due to a deadly virus, and the payback of some TV money for games the broadcasters still got to show. 

A decade or so before the cowboys were riding roughshod over the Reds, Leeds United faced no pandemic other than expecting to always be in the Champions League without budgeting for not being in the Champions League. They spent more on goldfish tanks for their offices than some clubs spent on players. Within a couple of years their finances collapsed faster than a dot-com startup specialising in chocolate teapots, perforated condoms and high-explosive butt-plugs.  

When Barcelona bought Philippe Coutinho for £142m, I expect their fans were delirious. (Because the aim of football is always to win the transfer window.) 

What a player he looked! (albeit under Klopp’s training regimen and within the team-first framework of carefully selected personalities, and delicately modelled and rehearsed interplay – what I call the egosystem). 

By contrast, many Liverpool fans were up in arms, accusing the club of getting rid of its prize asset, which showed a lack of ambition. 

Reckless and irresponsible were the kinds of words bandied about, just as they were when the club decided against signing someone else instead of Virgil van Dijk, by instead choosing to wait for the giant Dutchman. I’ve lost count of the times that the Reds owners and decisions makers have been called “reckless and irresponsible”, but it seems to be every week. And yet the club has had one of the best periods in its insanely successful history. 

In essence, for the price of van Dijk and Alisson, Liverpool, at the start of 2018, sold the Catalan giants a pair of wax wings. 

The looks in those overpaid Barça eyes (think rabbit, headlights, oncoming HGV) when the injury-depleted Reds tore them apart in the Champions League semi-final 18 months later was priceless. 

Corner taken quickly….

Toxic Ambition

A certain level of ambition is required to succeed in sport. But if it’s allied to avarice or irrationality, it becomes self-destructive. To win at all costs is to end up cheating, and to undermine the very nature of sport. 

One of my other fixations is true crime, and in hundreds of documentaries and hundreds of books I’ve consumed on wrongful convictions, a driving factor was almost always “we need to get a result”. 

The police are often culpable, but so are the public and even the victims’ families who, unable to see the hundreds of officers and detective chasing down leads, accuse them of incompetence, of doing nothing, of being indifferent to the death of poor innocent people. 

The result: locking up other innocent people (or prior to that, hanging them) whilst other innocent people are subsequently killed by the murderers spared by someone else’s wrongful conviction; all because of a type of PR (“we must be seen to have caught the perp”). 

A desire to get a result – to have to win – is to lose your moral compass. Often, the police feel righteous – they know that the young man they just beat the confession out of is guilty (because he looked guilty, smelt guilty, had slightly shifty eyes) – and that kind of righteousness is frightening. Even if that kid was deaf and mute, as in one case from Australia in the early 1960s in a fascinating new series on Sky Crime. 

In need of results, athletes start to dope, clubs start to overspend. Again, in business you see those startup sociopaths, who raise billions in phantom dollars for blood-testing kits that are essentially Casio calculators from 1979, or who organise gold-plated music festivals with elite accommodation and cuisine where, in the end, there isn’t even plastic cutlery to go with the Saran-wrapped soggy, cheap cheese sandwiches to eat in the £5 tents pitched near a toxic waste dump. We know of multi-million-dollar startups by beautiful young women with five different types of deadly cancer “apparently” kept at bay by eating prune juice, cheered on by million chorusing “you’re so brave, Belle!” In this shallow era, the slick PR person is even more in their element. 

Beware the shiny smiles and the coteries of social media influencers who oversell the dream and nip out the back door when the nightmare comes home to roost. Beware the slick, even if slickness is not itself a crime. Beware the users of all the right buzzwords, because they often disguise empty rhetoric and iffy promises; most normal people don’t talk via a series of buzzwords, and tiptoeing around language makes communicating truth all the harder 

Pay more attention to the boring people who do the boring things. 

The grey people.  

Live in the real world; don’t trust anyone faking it until they make it, as we are often only shown the few who made it (survivorship bias) and no one sees the bankrupt hellscapes left behind by the majority who just screwed everything up as they didn’t have a clue. 

(Note: this is not the same as starting out as a novice, and feeling like you have imposter syndrome; this is about lying your way to the top, on some kind of moral Ponzi scheme, or blowing the budget on fish tanks.)

Liverpool FC, in an understated, often grey way, has been run with real intelligence, in a baffling landscape. People can’t see it. The PR for FSG is often terrible – in that it’s just nonexistent – and people like Michael Edwards and Ian Graham are rarely seen in the media. 

As such, people just don’t understand what they do, or they simply refuse to acknowledge that it has worked. 

Take this tweet from a BBC sports contributor, which has thousands of likes:

“Raj Chohan @rajsinghchohan Jürgen Klopp is going into a gun fight with a toy pistol. But I still expect him to keep Liverpool in contention. But that credit should go to him, nobody else and certainly not Liverpool’s owners.”

I find this logic fascinating, in how certain people cannot credit the owners with anything. 

The owners believed in Michael Edwards a decade ago, after he arrived with Damien Comolli, whom they sacked for various reasons (mainly a lack of communication as to his strategy, based on my discussions with John Henry at the time). 

Edwards arrived with Comolli, and later got promoted at Liverpool. They were able to procure Klopp, when other owners or head honchos had turned Klopp’s stomach. Mike Gordon – one of those shadowy grey FSG figures, who does the most work on Merseyside – ‘sold’ the club to Klopp; and even if you think that’s an easy sell, you’d expect Man United to have been a fairly easy sell as well. But no. They fucked up when trying to seduce Klopp, to the point where it sounded like he vomited in his own mouth a little.

So, zero credit to Edwards and his team of analysts, and definitely no credit to the owners who appointed them all? 

Just credit to Klopp, and no one else? What kind of warped thinking is that?

I wrote in “Perched”, my book from 2020, that, to me, Klopp is the most important factor at the club, in that he has a unique way to hold together the intelligent analysis behind the scenes, the advanced tactical ideas of his brilliant coaches (that he appointed), and provide the passion for effort – and has the gravitas to demand that ceaseless effort – on the training pitch. He is fiery, but also uniquely practical and level-headed away from the emotion of the game. He is a unifier, a uniter. He’s a winner, but not an egotist. He has charisma, but also self-awareness and humility. 

He not only humanises the data, he appreciates the data; he’s an incredibly smart man, but smart enough to know that if he knows 90% about a lot of subjects, he’s stronger with people around him, each of whom know 99% on the specifics.

He is also a realist and a stoic, who knows the realities of working at clubs that don’t have sugar daddy owners, and who actually wants it that way where he works. Richer clubs have wanted him. Why go there? Why not try and do it the hard way, not the easy way?

As JKF said, “We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard.” 

This notion of Liverpool taking a toy pistol to a gun fight is so ludicrous, not least as it ignores the entire arsenal absent last season when the Reds still ended the season with eight wins and two draws, with 7th- and 8th-choice centre-backs and half the midfield absent. (And no, the injury crisis was not the fault of FSG!)

Liverpool spent most of last season with an average of £300m of talent (transfer fees adjusted to inflation) absent due to injury. That’s a fact. Spending £200m this summer, that the club doesn’t have, is not as good as having those £300m-worth of players back.

At times, ten or more players were out injured. Just to add those – yes, those players whose wages still had to be paid – whose understanding of team play, when to press, where to be, what to do at set-pieces, how to get along with each other and to respect the team egosystem, is all already inbuilt. You don’t get any of that from a new player, no matter how shiny or expensive.  

(Again, Liverpool went five months without a league set-piece goal last season with all their set-piece giants absent. When Virgil van Dijk and Joel Matip play, the average for the team is a staggering goal every three games – often scored by van Dijk, sometimes scored or assisted by Matip, but just as frequently scored by Roberto Firmino, who finds space he cannot when he’s one of the tallest players. As I discussed during the slump, Liverpool’s results last season closely tracked the average height of the team: the smaller, the fewer set-piece goals scored and the more conceded, and for the shortest 10 lineups the Reds fielded, a relegation-threatened points per game; taller in the run-in, even with rookies, and the pattern reversed, to suddenly become elite, with Champions League football secured thanks to six set-piece goals in the final four games, connected to the proximity of various players who were 6’3” or taller – including Alisson Becker!)

Toy pistols? It sounds like the notion of a five-year-old.

What about the adding of the 16-inch main battery warship guns of Virgil van Dijk, Joel Matip, Joe Gomez, Ibrahima Konaté and Jordan Henderson to the team? That’s just five players; five totems, one of them new. You wanna fuck with those guys? Put Fabinho back in the midfield because you have giant but elegant centre-backs, and you wanna make it physical with him and Hendo? Good luck!

To me, many fans are like naive simpletons who scream to a driver: “Go faster!” So the driver goes faster. “Go faster!” So the driver says “this is as fast as the car will go!” 

“No, go faster!” Followed by … “Oh shit, we’ve crashed into a fucking tree at 200mph because the engine exploded and wheels flew off, and we’re dead.” (Dead people still get a few minutes to compose a couple of tweets that, alas, they never get to send.)

Social media has reduced people to dumb, limbic-driven click monsters who have no conception of the bigger picture beyond the nanosecond in which they, triggered as hell, unleash a load of self-obsessed nonsense. One of the joys of writing books on this stuff is that you can properly analyse things with all the context you want (and idiots can’t keep interrupting you with dumb replies.). 

In some ways I don’t really care if people don’t like the owners, but the lack of objectivity is frightening; as is the desire to fit in on social media and signal your righteousness, ahead of logic, facts, reason and some spirit of finding a mutual understanding. There’s a kind of “proper Liverpool fan” ethos that is a waste of time; you don’t need to signal how much of a fan you are, just use your brain.

History will prove that Liverpool 2018-2020 was one of the best periods for any club in the history of football. 

And yet it’s apparently just by accident – given that the transfer budget was based purely on balancing the books – that the Reds rose to those heady heights? It was entirely Klopp’s doing, and everything else was irrelevant?

To suggest it was just Klopp is to ignore a deeply complex system, like saying that it’s the pilot that flies the plane, and that the getting into the air has nothing to do with the fuselage, the wings, the control systems and the engines, which were previously designed and assembled and tested over a decade of development? 

The head of Boeing presumably had something to do with the success of the 747, even if he wasn’t the one flying it. The pilot could fly other less-good planes, as other planes were in 1969, and the plane could be flown by other less-good pilots. But perfection (as we saw from 2018-2020) requires a synchronicity between many different factors. Even the best Formula One drivers don’t win in a beat-up Ford Mondeo, no matter how good they are. They don’t design or build their cars, nor fund that development; they don’t do their own tyre changes.  

The fantasist fan is of no interest to me. I’ve spent over 20 years dealing with these people; being called a sunshiner by them when I point out the realistic positives, but also find them to be the kind of people who say “we’re gonna beat this shit team 7-0 today” and then meltdown when it’s just 2-0. They’re the kind of people who meltdown about the transfer window (“shit, Everton won the transfer window again, we’re doomed”), and don’t understand the science of team growth and shared understanding. 

New players, new players, new players! Feed me, feed me, feed me! 

(Er, the best league season – way back in, erm, 2019/20 – in the club’s history saw zero first-team players arrive: just a reserve goalkeeper.)

People’s desires to be either 100% for or 100% against things is also driving the world insane. It’s black-and-white thinking.

I like Donald Trump about as much as I like root canal work done without anaesthetic, and without even a dentist – the procedure performed with rusty pliers by a blind heroin addict who hasn’t shot up in three days, and who has both’s faces. 

I also like Boris Johnson about as much as I like Trump. 

I could complain about all the things they’ve done wrong, and how they turn my stomach. The list is long. But equally, if they do something right, like getting a vaccine programme up and running on time (or setting the wheels in motion for the next guy to do so), then the truth is that they got a vaccine programme up and running in time; my personal opinion about them as über-arseholes who are an insult to the privilege of still having hair (the bastards), should not alter that fact. 

(For the record, I also like and trust Big Pharma about as much as I trust the deranged faux-dentists of this world. They do a ton of stuff that worries me, but also, they have their uses; and the consensus is that vaccinations is a way out of this mess, which, despite possibly ignoring other alternatives that may or may not work, seems a fair enough belief. If vaccines was the goal, then the crazy-haired numpties at least got that part right.)

President Obama once bemoaned the fact that the only time the Republicans didn’t say he was entirely wrong about something was the killing of Osama Bin Laden. But we cannot go around establishing our beliefs in contrast the beliefs or opinions of people we despise, because as tempting as it is (and I know it’s tempting), on the occasions they are right it means we are automatically wrong. 

It is not “thinking”. It is tribalism, us vs them, good vs bad, right vs wrong, heroes vs villains. It’s insane. 

Anyway, I’m sure Obama did lots wrong, just like anyone else making judgements calls that could prove helpful or hurtful. I could name a few things, a couple of which were amongst the very few things I agreed with the scrotal-faced pubic-haired Trump on when his administration reversed them. (Just as Obama initially opposed gay marriage, which was a position that did not age well; albeit a reversal seen in the public western consciousness based on sound and sympathetic reasoning relating to gay rights prior to everything being done via Twitter, not public shaming or science-rewriting by some rabid activists.)

But equally, the Republicans pretty much only agreed with one single thing Obama did in eight years? And then the Democrats agreed with pretty much nothing Trump did? And now the Republicans agree with pretty much nothing Joe Biden does? This is a kind of mass insanity. It’s how we end up with masks becoming a political football during a pandemic. You may like this version of society, but I do not (hence why I steer clear of social media 99% of the time, and the cost to my business and my profile, but to the benefit of my sanity).  

This is not about politics per se, as your politics are your business. It’s a metaphor. (And a metaphor is a glorious thing.) That said, this entire framework – politics as tribalism, rather than weighing up ideas and issues and solutions and principles – has put me off politics (along with the far-right nutters and the far-left cancellers), beyond spending some time pointing out how toxic politics now is. Yet it’s now how we see all issues, in part as all issues are becoming politicised. It’s seeped into football in recent years, and is increasing. 

As such, me making a case for the pros and cons of FSG will likely convert no one. Everyone has likely already made up their mind, and this diatribe will likely achieve nothing. 

(As such, it hopefully being an interesting read may be the only purpose of the 8,000 words; another reason why we need to be careful of over-policing language, lest it rob us of the last of our joys. I love this inspiring piece by the bipolar writer Freddie deBoer on the actual point of writing and being a writer.)

In fact, this might even annoy some FSG supporters, for whom it is not positive enough (as I list their gaffes) and it will almost certainly annoy those whose binary thinking, with no nuance possible, means they can only see things through the lens of “Them = Good People” and “Them = Bad People”. You don’t have to like nuance, but it fucking well helps if you do.  

In other words, you can hate FSG as much as you want, and you can criticise the decisions that they have made: the £77 tickets; the sacking of Kenny Dalglish, or at least the manner of it; the allowing of Colin Pascoe to wear those shorts; the furlough furore; the Project Big Picture and the European Super League clusterfucks (even if those last three were not debated or discussed properly as Twitter went from zero-to-hysteria in 0.0001 seconds, before the benefits they might provide could even be raised as counterarguments – albeit they were also partially self-inflicted PR gaffes due to the shoddy way they were unveiled. I am also not claiming there wasn’t rampant self-interest involved, too; but most compromises mesh rampant self-interest with other people’s rampant self-interest, where each gives up some of their desires, and it requires a dialogue to establish the terms). 

But you cannot list all those cockups and then also give them zero credit for taking a financially fucked club, and putting structures in place to find a new way of thinking about football; sacking Roy Hodgson and overhauling the mess of a squad that had fallen to mid-table and below, and was years away from ever hoping to finish top four again; appointing Michael Edwards via Comolli, who in turn, with Ian Graham – another from that same initial bout of data-driven appointments – worked out via what were then cutting-edge analytics that Jürgen Klopp was the man to get at all costs, when his stock was lower after a difficult final season at Dortmund; nearly winning the title with Brendan Rodgers, a left-field appointment that had some ups with all the downs (much like Pascoe’s shorts); rebuilding the Main Stand at Anfield after inheriting a costs-sucking mess of a plan for a new stadium; building a state-of-the-art training complex; getting rid of the dude in the Cuban heels and his lackeys pronto; posting two of the four all-time best league points tallies in English football history; reaching two Champions League finals in incredible fashion, and winning one; commencing the rebuilding  of the Anfield Road end, and a general regeneration of the Anfield area; and finally, finishing 3rd in a season with the worst injury crisis in living memory and more VAR overturns than pretty much the rest of the league combined, that extended the run of consecutive top four finishes to five. 

Even (not-Scouser) Tommy, the deaf, dumb and blind kid (damn, the Who were ableist), could get a good sense of what’s been achieved, if he wasn’t a fictional pinball player from 1969.

For all their fuckups, on balance, FSG have, to me, done incredibly well. 

But at worst, you could call it a mixed bag. After all, no one judges Mo Salah only on the chances he misses. You note the misses, but count the average of 32 goals per season.

However, clearly FSG could be like Wayne Rooney, aged 29: excellent previous 11 years (littered with mistakes), who then ends up finished in surprisingly little time. Or they could be like Zlatan Ibrahimovic, aged 29: excellent previous 11 years (littered with mistakes), but somehow about to score another 322 club goals (362 in total if you add 40 more for Sweden), and win countless trophies, and continuing to swing his dick in changing rooms as he’s about to turn 40. I also like Ibrahimovic about as much as I like my fake dentist, but that’s one of the most amazing 30-something careers in history (and therefore still an outlier). 

So, FSG are not done yet, the book on them is not closed. They may Rooney it up, or they may do a Zlatan. (My sense is that they could be more like James Milner, and quietly continue their good work, possibly whilst drinking Ribena; always trust the grey people, but never deal in absolutes.) 

You want something to contrast this against?

A trip back to Spain and Kuper’s take:

“Between 2017 and 2021, Messi earned a total of more than €555 million, according to extracts from his 30-page contract published in El Mundo newspaper. Neither Messi nor senior Barcelona officials denied the figure. One senior Barça official told me Messi’s salary had tripled between 2014 and 2020. But he added, ‘Messi is not the problem. The problem is the contagion of the rest of the team.’ Whenever Messi got a raise, his teammates wanted one too.”

Hmm, sounds like a recipe for disaster. 

It’s hard to have sympathy for Messi when his craven wage demands drove the club to near financial oblivion, no matter how good he was (and boy was he good).

But wait, weren’t FSG criticised for not giving bigger wages to key men, and for not signing new superstars on mega-bucks because they were too mean to pay the wages that would have destroyed the club’s very smartly managed wage structure? 

How many times have I pointed out on this site that the Reds will not bring in someone new on higher wages than those who have historically earned the right to be the best paid? – but will bump their wages if they then earn it? How many times have I spoken of the dangers of raising the bar for one player meaning that others will ask for rises too? The dangers of bringing in an Alexis Sanchez on so much money that, when he’s suddenly not even good enough to be described as ‘utter dogshit’, 23 other players suddenly feel underpaid and demand raises?

Something else?

“Barça’s process for buying players is unusually messy. Rival currents inside the club each push for different signings, often without bothering to inform the head coach. Candidates for the Barça presidency campaign on promises of the stars they will buy if elected.”

While FSG got into a similar bizarre situation with Rodgers and Edwards, that was resolved in 2015, with Klopp and Edwards working in harmony; and who – beyond bonkers fans – wants someone promising who they will bring to Liverpool if elected? 

If someone promises me Kylian Mbappé, I worry: how will it be paid for? What would he do to the wage structure, in terms of everyone else asking for a raise? How will a superstar affect the team’s vital egosystem? Will he do the hard yards closing down the opposition? Will he be an Alexis Sanchez, who is both useless on the pitch and unhelpful to the club as a whole? And what if the manager doesn’t want that particular player, but the President is promising that player to the fans?

FSG haven’t taken money out of Liverpool, or saddled it with debt, unlike their predecessors and unlike the Glazers at Man United. They also haven’t pumped much in (in contrast to the petrodollar sportswashers whose wealth is obviously massively greater), but they’ve used their money where possible, including with loans. However, mainly, they made the club self-sustainable, and indeed, very profitable (up to Covid), to enable a higher wage bill, not personal dividends.

Even though it was largely so high due to winning the league, the Reds’ had a high wage bill in 2019/20, as seen by this graph from The Athletic, which was shown to chart Barcelona’s insane wage-bill implosion. The graph should show doubters how FSG, with a low net spent on transfers, have invested money into the wage bill. Look at the dark-green line, that rose to the 4th-highest in Europe that season, before Covid struck.  

And even with Covid having taken £100m+ from the club, Liverpool are still financially viable, still moving forward. The Covid storm is still settling for most clubs. It’s set Liverpool back, but it’s not a fatal wound.

Here is Andrew Beasley’s table comparing the Reds’ transfer spending with Barcelona, updated from an article he wrote for TTT:

Walk On?

FSG may still walk on – walk away – with billions in profit at the end, if/when they sell up and move on. 

But to me, the same applies to any normal person who buys a house, in terms of the fairness of investments and how they work: the more work you do to it, the better the odds of profiting, especially if the market rises. (If you take the time to pay for planning permission, for architects, for renovators, or you do a ton of DIY, you are essentially earning any later profit.) 

If you just ignore the investment, let the house fall into rack and ruin, you may be lucky if the market rises and you make a small profit – but equally, you’re risking nothing, investing nothing and may end up with a pile of rubble. 

The same applies to all businesses, and football clubs have to be run like businesses, as a reality. It’s always been the case. No matter how much of football is not, to us, about the business side of things, the business side of things is always underpinning everything else. You can choose to ignore that, but you can also choose to ignore that gravity exists. It makes no difference what you believe. 

Anyone who thinks football clubs don’t have to be run like businesses and should be based on emotion can drink Lionel Messi’s tears, for all the good it will do Messi remaining at Barcelona. Bad business decisions meant that the greatest player of all time does not end up a one-club player. His own famously bad business acumen, aided by his agent father, is also to blame. Even offering to halve his wages from £2m per week to £1m per week was not enough, as The Athletic explained:

“Laporta said clearly on Friday that even with Messi’s salary cut, Barcelona’s wages would be at 110 per cent of the club revenues. Best practice — and La Liga rules — demand a ratio of 70 per cent. Even with Messi off the books, wages remain at 95 per cent of revenue and Laporta admitted there was ‘more work to be done’ on persuading some players to accept pay cuts and selling others before Depay, Aguero, Garcia and Emerson can be registered.”

An older graph from the website showed how well Liverpool’s ratio was managed, and the English clubs who are at dangerous levels (albeit the rules over here are different).

So, even FSG selling for a profit wouldn’t be “morally” wrong, especially as they delivered the league title and a Champions League, and some of the best years to be a Liverpool fan, including the madness of 2013/14. (Albeit I’d hope that they could find a way to sell that would continue to benefit the club.) 

I don’t mind any owner profiting from selling a club that it has helped improve; I do resent anyone who had come in, done nothing, then doubled their money simply because the TV deals doubled. I resent what the cowboys did, but’s a false equivalence to treat FSG the same. (My favourite false equivalence was an email I received in 2007 saying that Liverpool were dumb in trying to sign Fernando Torres, as Fernando Morientes had been a bust. By this logic, Liverpool should only sign players called Kenny, Bruce, Steven and Xabi.)

Anyway, we shall see. I have some personal experience with FSG, but for years I’ve tried to keep away from club politics, and never contact anyone at the club. (Sometimes someone will contact me, but I try to be objective and not allow myself to be influenced. These days I mostly live as a recluse anyway, which meant lockdowns were not quite as weird for me.) 

But what I’ll say, above all else, is that Liverpool have far more than a toy pistol for the new season. (My apologies for singling out that guy and his tweet – he may be a great football thinker otherwise – but if you say stuff like that, with total black-and-white thinking, you are inviting replies that mock your ideas.) 

And any success will be due to the interplay between a team of teams: the owners, the data guys, the transfer gurus, the manager, the coaches, the physios and medics and the dieticians, the first-team players, and even the fringe players who help maintain the standards by pushing the others in training, day after day after day, as part of the process of general social-multiplier improvement effects. 

To suggest it would “all” be down to the admittedly brilliant and wonderful – and vital – Klopp is an insult to well over 100 other people. (Plus the 55,000 a week at Anfield who may also have some influence.)

Anyway, let’s try and enjoy the new season (radical idea, I know), and not spend the entire time bickering and moaning and wishing the time away, or indulging in excessive schadenfreude. Let’s live in the moment, enjoy what we have, and buckle up for an exciting ride.