There’s a theme that keeps coming back in conversations about Liverpool’s recent performances: we just don’t look as fit as we need to be. Not in the vague “they look tired” way either, but in the more damaging sense that it changes how we play, how brave we are, and how secure we feel when the game gets messy.

When the legs aren’t quite there, the first thing that goes is the press. You can still make the right decision, you can still point and organise, but if you can’t go and do it at full tilt for long enough, the whole thing becomes half-press, half-sit-off. And that’s the worst of both worlds because you’re not winning the ball high, but you’re also not properly set in a solid block.


Pressing isn’t optional, it’s the system

Liverpool at our best aren’t just “a team that presses”. It’s the backbone of everything: it keeps the ball away from our box, it pins teams in, and it creates those moments where a turnover becomes a chance before the opposition can even breathe.

If we’re not at that level physically, we naturally start letting the opposition have more of it. They come onto us, they get a foothold, and suddenly every defensive action feels like a big one. You’re not picking passes off in midfield, you’re sprinting back towards your own area. That’s where the stress creeps in.


The late-game feeling has flipped

What’s really frustrating is that not so long ago, the opposite was true. We had that sense that Liverpool could finish games stronger than most. Even when it wasn’t pretty, there was an edge: a late goal felt possible, a comeback felt on, and the opposition looked like they were the ones hanging on.

Now it’s more like we’re trying to get through the final stages without something going wrong. And that’s not just physical, it’s mental too. When you know you’ve got another sprint in you, you play with more calm. When you’re running on fumes, every duel feels like it could decide the match.


Knife-edge defending and costly moments

You can see it in the individual moments as well. A full-back goes into a tackle and it has to be perfect, because if he’s half a step late or his body isn’t quite set, it’s suddenly a penalty shout or a clear chance. Bradley is a good example of that fine margin: one mistimed challenge and you’re relying on luck, the referee, or the keeper.

Truth is, defending well isn’t just about shape and effort. It’s about being physically ready to repeat actions, and mentally steady enough not to panic when the game swings. If the fitness level drops, both of those go with it.

It’s hard to build anything consistent from that place. Get the sharpness back, and a lot of the other problems start to look more solvable.

Written by OliRed: 30 December 2025