Liverpool FC Must Retire 20 – It Belongs to Only One Man Now

I keep thinking about something Steve McVeigh posted on Twitter yesterday; Jota didn’t leave. He wasn’t sold. He didn’t retire. He’s just… gone. And yet, somehow, he still feels here. I can’t stop seeing his face, that grin, those moments. The goals. The madness. The sheer Jota-ness of it all. It’s been over 24 hours now, but none of it feels real.

And that’s exactly why Liverpool Football Club must retire the number 20 shirt.

This club doesn’t really do that. Not traditionally. And I get it, retiring a number is a big deal. But Diogo Jota was a big deal. Bigger than most realised. You look back at it now and it hits like a train. He joined in 2020. He wore 20. He helped win number 20. That number, now, it belongs to him. Nobody else should wear it.

Jota Was Family

We always say it feels like we know these players. That the club is a family. Sometimes it can sound a bit sentimental, like we’re reaching. But this? This feels like we’ve lost one of our own.

And I don’t mean that in a casual, “he was a good player” kind of way. I mean it in the way you feel when you lose someone who made you laugh, cry, shout, leap out of your seat. Someone who gave you moments. Not stats, not numbers. Memories.

Diogo Jota made memories.

He was a closer. A finisher. The man who made 2-1 into 3-1. The one who scored after doing nothing for 89 minutes. He was always there. That knack, that inevitability. You felt safe when he was on the pitch. You felt like something could happen.

And off the pitch, you never heard a bad word. Every tribute, from Klopp to Slot to Robbo and beyond, painted a picture of a humble, caring, intelligent man. The kind that people gravitated to. The kind you want in your dressing room and your life.

His teammates adored him. His manager trusted him. His fans? We idolised him. Still do.

This Means More, Really

Remember when the club launched that slogan? “This Means More.” Felt a bit markety at the time. Slick campaign, big emotions, aimed straight at the heartstrings. But this week, it hit differently.

Because it really does mean more.

Supporting Liverpool means living through unthinkable highs and gut-wrenching lows. It means rallying round in tragedy. It means remembering properly. Grieving properly. Jota deserves that. His family deserves that. His children, his wife, his parents, all of them.

This tragedy has made us look inward. Think about what matters. Hug people tighter. Reach out more often. Maybe we can’t fix anything, but we can show that it mattered. That he mattered.

And part of that is this: retiring his shirt. No more number 20. Not out of mourning, but out of respect. Out of love. Out of something that doesn’t need explanation if you were paying attention. He made the shirt his. So let it stay his.

Shirts That Stay in the Memory

Some numbers are just numbers. Some become folklore. Some get passed down through eras, each new owner adding their own chapter.

But every so often, a number becomes sacred. Not because of what it represents statistically, but emotionally. Because the story that lives in that shirt can’t be replicated.

Number 20 is Jota’s story. And what a story it is. Think about it. From Paços de Ferreira to Wolves to Anfield. From the guy nobody picked at Atlético to the guy who outscored world-class forwards. From being signed as a depth option to taking over from Firmino, Mane, whoever was in his way.

He played like someone who always had something to prove. That edge, that bite, that chip on his shoulder. He played for us, but he also played like us. The underdog with a chip on his shoulder. He belonged here.

We sang his name. Loud. Joyfully. And now, heartbreakingly. But we’ll keep singing it. That song isn’t going anywhere. Neither should his shirt number.

And let’s do one more thing. Let’s make his shirt available to buy in perpetuity. No other player name on the back, just DIOGO J and the number 20, and every penny from it should go to his family. Every single one. Forever. No expiry date. Because he gave everything to us.

More Than a Player, More Than a Number

I saw someone write that Jota was a “moments player”. That might sound like a slight in analysis circles. It isn’t. Not to us. Moments are what we remember. The snapshots. The rushes of blood and joy and disbelief. The kind of things you tell your kids about. Jota gave us that. Time and time again.

And for those of us who never met him, that’s what we hold onto. The goals. The celebrations. The way he cupped his ears to Arsenal fans or pulled out Diaz’s shirt to show solidarity. That’s who he was.

I don’t need to know what kind of shampoo he used or what his favourite meal was. I know how he made me feel. And I know that feeling deserves to be honoured.

I want the club to act. To recognise what this is. To see beyond the usual traditions and say, actually, this is one of those rare moments where we do something different.

Retire the number 20. Make it a symbol. Let it mean something more than squad logistics and depth charts. Let it be a sign that Diogo Jota lives on at Anfield, that he is, as one fan said so perfectly, a Red forever.

And when new fans walk through the museum or browse through old programmes or scroll through digital kits, they’ll ask why no one’s worn that number since 2025. And someone will tell the story. His story.

He gave us number 20. He joined in 2020. He helped us win number 20. The shirt was his. Let it stay his. For eternity.

Rest in peace, Diogo. Thank you for the goals. The memories. The love. You’ll never walk alone.