There’s a point in any rough patch where you stop talking about the press, the build-up, the spacing, and you start talking about something far less measurable: belief. Not confidence as a buzzword, but that split-second certainty that a pass should be played now, that the cross should be whipped first time, that the shot should be hit without checking the angle twice.

That’s the heart of this view on Liverpool at the moment. It isn’t tactics that are killing us, it’s motivation and conviction. When the players don’t really believe we’re going to score, the final action becomes hesitant. The delivery arrives a touch late, the obvious pass gets overthought, and what should be a decisive moment turns into a scramble for a better moment that never comes.


Why the final ball looks like a decision made too late

You can see it in the rhythm. The move is fine until the point where someone has to commit. That’s usually where it slows down, and once it slows down the defence is set, the crowd gets restless, and the whole thing starts to feel like we’re trying to walk it in from a standing start.

To be fair, not every side scores freely every week, and even the best teams have spells where it looks sticky. But when it becomes a habit, it stops being “one of those days” and starts looking like a team waiting for something else to happen. That’s where the manager comes into it.


Slot and the bigger question: can he grab games?

The suggestion here is that Arne Slot might not make it beyond the season because he can’t convince the group to take a match by the scruff of its neck. Not in a chest-thumping way, either. More in that hard, ruthless way where you sense the next attack is going to end with someone doing something brave.

And if the club did decide change is needed, there’s a practical point that’s worth saying out loud: sacking a manager mid-season and rolling the dice on an interim rarely feels like a plan. It can tidy up a mood for a week or two, but it doesn’t build anything.


If change comes, it has to be a proper direction

There’s also the timing issue. Pre-season is where you lay down habits. If the calendar is cramped because of an international tournament, a new coach has less time to install a style, set standards, and actually coach rather than just manage fixtures. That matters, and it’s part of why “wait until summer” often sounds dull but makes sense.

The comparison that lands is a historical one: Liverpool have had eras where the football felt slow, and fans moaned about it even while trophies were coming in. Then someone arrived who shifted the dial, made it more direct, more decisive. If Slot ends up being a stepping-stone rather than the long-term answer, fine, but the next appointment would have to be a clear stylistic statement, not a compromise.

And on the people upstairs, this view is blunt: blaming Hughes for superficial reasons is noise. If your issue is the team’s self-belief on the pitch, you don’t fix that with snide comments about someone’s image. You fix it with a manager who can make players feel inevitable again.

Written by Monstersouness: 12 January 2026