There’s a conversation that keeps popping up around Liverpool lately, and it isn’t really about a back four or a midfield balance. It’s about what kind of supporter you want to be when things are a bit messy.

Because the funny thing is, we’ve seen a run where the wins weren’t flowing, then we steady ourselves, put an unbeaten spell together and edge back into the top-four picture. And still, a lot of the noise is: “Yeah, but it’s boring.”

To be fair, I get it. Liverpool at our best set a tempo that drags you off your seat. It’s chaos, it’s pressure, it’s waves. When that’s been your normal, anything more controlled can feel like you’re watching with the handbrake on.


The Netflix view of football

What’s creeping in, though, is the idea that football owes us entertainment first and progress second. Like the match is an episode that has to hit the same beats every week. Goals early, big moments on cue, a neat ending.

But being a fan is sticking with the awkward bits too. The games where we’re clearly trying to manage risk, where we don’t over-commit, where we accept that control can be a form of competence. Not glamorous, but it can be necessary.

And honestly, it’s a bit hilarious watching people complain about “boring” while also demanding we stop giving away silly transitions and stop turning every match into a basketball game.


Progress rarely looks tidy

The truth is, you can see we’re in a transition. Not just from one system to another, but from being a side that relied on rhythm and intensity to one that can win in different ways. Sometimes that means games are scrappy. Sometimes it means the first half and second half look like two different teams.

That’s the journey part. Up and down, week to week, even minute to minute. You might get a spell where the press looks sharper, the distances are better, and the team move as a unit. Then you get a setback, a flat performance, and everyone wants to throw the whole thing in the bin.

The Leeds game mentioned is a good example of that emotional swing: one moment you’re buzzing about small steps, the next you’re reminded how fragile confidence and cohesion can be.


Why the small steps matter

I’m with the view that the small improvements are worth noticing. A more sensible tempo. Better game management. Fewer forced passes. A bit more patience in possession, even if it isn’t fireworks.

None of this means we should pretend everything is perfect, or that criticism isn’t allowed. It just means we shouldn’t confuse “not thrilling” with “not moving forward”. Sometimes you have to earn the right to be chaotic again.

And if you’re on the journey with the team, you can live with a few dull spells along the way. That’s not being a customer. That’s being a supporter.

Written by Faithinworks: 11 January 2026