Walking away from the Emirates with a point usually feels like a decent result. But let’s be honest with ourselves: last week’s 0-0 draw wasn’t a tactical masterclass or a hard-fought point in a title race. It was a tombstone on our title defence.
As the travelling Kop filtered out of North London, the mood wasn’t one of relief; it was one of resignation. We are now 14 points adrift of Arsenal. The defence of the crown we won so spectacularly last May is now officially a crisis. We had the possession, we had the territory, but we had absolutely no bite.
And we all know why.
The absence of Alexander Isak is no longer just an injury list statistic; it’s the defining narrative of our season. When we shattered the British transfer record to bring the Swede to Merseyside last summer, he was supposed to be the man to cement the dynasty. Instead, since that horror tackle against Spurs in December, we have looked like a team playing with ten men.
Isak wasn’t even in the stadium on Thursday – he’s rehabilitating far away from the cold London rain – but his ghost was everywhere. Every time we passed the ball sideways around the Arsenal box, waiting for a movement that never came, you could feel the void he has left. It’s fair to say that he didn’t enjoy the greatest of starts to his Liverpool career – quite the opposite at times – but the general feeling is that he was hurt at almost the exact same moment he’d begun to find his step.
The Slot Machine is Jammed
We have to talk about Arne Slot.
The honeymoon period of the 2024/25 title win is well and truly over. The “control” that he brought in to replace Klopp’s chaos has curdled into something that looks suspiciously like stagnation. We are easy to play against. Arsenal didn’t even have to play well to shut us out; they just sat deep, stayed compact, and watched us pass the ball into harmless areas.
With Isak out until April and Conor Bradley now joining the season-ending injury list (a massive blow given his form), Slot is running out of cards to play. He looks frustrated on the touchline, and frankly, so do the players. The spark has gone.
Asking Cody Gakpo to carry this broken attack on his own is unfair, but it’s also clearly not working. The Dutchman’s work rate at the Emirates was undeniable, but in a season where we are haemorrhaging points, we need goals, not chaos. We had 14 shots against Arsenal. Two were on target. That isn’t a “bad luck” story; it’s a personnel crisis. The longer Gakpo is left to toil on his own, the more fan sentiment is likely to turn against a player who’s already unpopular with much of the Anfield faithful.
FSG and the Casino Mentality
This brings us to the owners, and the men they have entrusted to fix this: Richard Hughes and Michael Edwards.
It is often joked that supporting Liverpool is an exercise in managing your blood pressure. The FSG model is sustainable, sensible, and right now, completely infuriating.
In many ways, the transfer market is a giant gamble. Every time you buy a player, you’re placing a bet on their adaptation, their fitness, and their mentality. It’s funny, really – it’s almost like a real-life version of the official Liverpool FC slots game by Aspect Gaming, watching the reels spin and hoping for that rush of a jackpot. It’s popular according to sister site reviews, and it uses the iconography of the club to create excitement based on pure chance. Even for the biggest of gamblers, though, the stakes placed on that slots game will never be as high as they are for the club that inspired it right now.
The problem is that when Edwards and Hughes approach the actual transfer market, they act like the complete opposite of a gambler. They don’t spin the reels. They don’t play the slots. They are the card counters who will only bet when the deck is mathematically stacked in their favour.
Usually, fans defend this approach. It built the title-winning squad. But there are moments in football where the house shifts against you, and the only way to win is to take a risk that the spreadsheet doesn’t strictly support.
Right now, the “smart” financial move is to wait. Isak will be back next season. The title is gone anyway. Why spend £50m on a stop-gap?
The counter-argument is simple: We are Liverpool Football Club. We don’t write off seasons in January. We are still in the Champions League. We are still in the Cups. And if we don’t fix this attack, we are in genuine danger of slipping into a battle just to stay in the top four.
The “Stop-Gap” Stigma
There is a stigma at Liverpool around January signings, specifically “panic buys.” But was Luis Diaz a panic buy? Or was he a necessary injection of adrenaline?
We need that adrenaline now. We aren’t asking for a £100m superstar. We are asking for a viable option. Look at the market. There are profiles out there. The rumour mill is linking us with every winger under the sun, but it’s the central focal point we need. We need someone who can finish the chances that Szoboszlai is creating.
The next two weeks will define not just this season, but the mood for the summer. If the window slams shut on February 2nd and our only business is sending a few kids out on loan while Isak watches on TV with his leg in a cast, the atmosphere at Anfield is going to turn toxic.
We have a squad that proved it was the best in the land last year. It’s tragic to watch it limp towards May because the hierarchy was too scared to gamble on a replacement for our record signing.
The title has likely gone to North London or Manchester. But our dignity is still something worth fighting for.
Over to you, Mr. Hughes. Spin the wheel.
