He turned us from doubters to believers…and then he broke our hearts.
Liverpool fans have long dreaded the day when Jurgen Klopp would depart Anfield. For the announcement to come out of the blue on a cold Friday in January – with the team flying again in all competitions – was a seismic shock. Klopp has seemed reinvigorated this season, his beloved “Liverpool 2.0” surprising pundits, supporters, possibly even the man himself with their swift return to the summit after a shaky season last year. He had previously delighted fans by extending his contract beyond his long-planned exit date of 2024. Now here he was, telling us that’s it, no more. He will go at the end of the season.
His reasoning is clear, sound and typically honest. “I am, how can I say it, running out of energy….I know that I cannot do the job again and again and again and again.” I mean, there were no obvious signs of that – he has been as animated as ever – but it will resonate with most of us, even in our more mundane and less high profile and rewarded jobs. The energy Klopp brings is a big part of who he is, of what Liverpool FC under his leadership has become. None of us has a limitless supply of resilience, not even this most remarkable of men.
Bill Shankly once said “I was made for Liverpool and Liverpool was made for me.” The same rings very true of Klopp. He was a perfect fit from day one. Not just his honesty, his wit or his enthusiasm – those are qualities that would suit most football clubs, especially when combined with absolute football genius. There is something about his emotion – both the heart on sleeve passion and the very way his teams play – that suits Liverpool FC as a club and was always going to endear him to its fanbase.
You can keep (for me) the stultifying tika taka of Manchester City or peak Barcelona: all that back and forth, side to side football. Football is a game of emotions and that is how Klopp teams play – all high pressing, speed and going for the jugular. Tika taka is like progressive rock in comparison to punk. Or, as Klopp would express it, heavy metal. It gets you on the edge of your seat, rather than stroking your chin in admiration.
Of course Klopp’s fundamental decency, humour and intelligence play a huge part as well. He may lose his rag with referees, TV schedulers or even his own players and supporters. But away from the heat of battle, his kindness and his progressive view of the world shine brightly. Klopp is one of those football people who has ‘cut through’: non-football people know who he is and largely view him as a decent human being. You could see that in the reaction to news of his impending departure.
With what some might claim is our usual sense of perspective, Liverpool fans are treating this loss almost as a bereavement. In a way, it is. Something very special is about to die: I am honestly not sure if I will love football in quite the same way when Klopp is no longer manager of Liverpool. Will a Xabi Alonso or Roberto De Zerbi excite the same emotions, play with the same fire? It’s just too hard to think about right now.
All kinds of questions remain. Why announce it now, will it demoralise the players or see them ride to end of season glory on a tide of emotion? Why are the whole backroom team following him out the door (wasn’t one a potential contender for the job?)? Would Klopp have won even more at Anfield if he wasn’t competing in an era of sports washing and alleged cheating? But that’s all background noise. The man who brought the real noise is going and right now, that is a body blow that most of us are just struggling to take.
Rory writes 