From Rush to Slot: A Supporter’s Breaking Point

A lifelong Liverpool fan reflects on the eras that shaped their love for the club, before landing on a growing apathy and a belief that Slot is not inspiring the squad in a difficult spell.

I can sum up where I am at the moment with Liverpool in one line: for the first time in decades, I feel myself drifting into apathy. That is what scares me, because this club has been part of my life for as long as I can remember.

It started in the early 1980s with Ian Rush and Bruce Grobbelaar, and it only deepened as Kenny Dalglish became the figure I attached my love of Liverpool to, first as a player and then as manager. I even remember being in tears when Everton went 1-0 up in 1986, only for everything to feel different by the end of it.

The years that shaped the support

There are parts of supporting Liverpool that go beyond results and trophies. I was devastated by the events of 1989, and I still remember watching Heysel years earlier and trying to understand why there was no football, only presenters and explanations I was too young to fully grasp.

When Kenny left, I was bereft but also hopeful, thinking another former hero might bring something fresh from the dugout. That optimism did not last long. The football under Evans excited and frustrated in equal measure because it always felt like we were so close.

Houllier initially had me perplexed too, partly because of how it felt to see a Boot Room connection pushed aside. Over time, I could see Ged loved Liverpool as deeply as any supporter, but there are still decisions I struggled with, including getting rid of God and not signing Anelka. Even then, it felt like we were close again, and I have always wondered what might have been without his heart troubles in that 2002 or 2003 window.

Rafa, the near misses, and the modern cycle

Then came Rafa. I will admit I liked the cut of Mourinho’s jib at the time and felt we lost out, but Istanbul changed everything about how I saw that era. It was another period of thinking we had a real chance, and I still lament how it felt when the money ran out in 2008 and we were, once again, so close.

Hodgson left me underwhelmed, and I was glad to see the previous owners moved on. Reading An Epic Swindle later only reinforced how close we came to a future where everything might have gone very differently for Liverpool.

The return of the King gave us a brief spark, silverware, and a reason to dream. I was a Brenda fan at first too, but the repeated phrases became so hackneyed it wore thin. 2013-14 gave me one more high, but it ultimately fizzled out, and it felt even more deflating with the champion of the last 15 years leaving.

Klopp brought the buzz back

Truth is, my peak years of supporting probably coincided with the 1990s, when we were poor, and the big highs of 2001, 2005 and 2013-14 all came when football was competing with other life milestones. I used to wish I had been born a few years earlier to fully experience the glory years with an adult’s understanding, because my own football watching had drifted into the background at times.

Then came Klopp. I was never a doubter, just a world-wearied optimist, but he brought the buzz, the enjoyment, and the success. I loved us as the underdog, and those seasons pushing the very highest point totals were genuinely incredible to live through as a fan.

When he announced he was leaving, I was devastated, and I wanted the impossible quad as a final legacy for him. He anointed his heir, Arne Slot, and while I wanted Alonso for the romance, if Jurgen believed Slot was the man then that was good enough for me.

Why Slot has drained the feeling

There was a season that felt like champions’ stuff: tailing off late, plenty of last-minute winners, but still finding a way. Then came Jota, and it was disbelief, denial, grief. Not just the player and the goals, but the man and everything around him. July and August 2025 felt dream-like, and the image of Salah’s tears is not something I will forget.

The side fought on, and it even felt like Liverpool had the kind of financial power to compete in the market with the richest clubs. Part of me missed the old way of finding gems, but another part was relieved we could finally shop at the very top table.

Then it started to unravel. I kept believing Slot would turn it around, and for months I thought it was just a sharp footballing brain tinkering behind the scenes. But the longer it went on, the more I wondered whether it was tinkering or desperation, and whether it was being driven by fear of being found out.

It is easy to change things when you are winning. It takes nerve to start a 17-year-old when an established pro is dropping stinker after stinker. It takes nerve to manage the big calls, including dropping your highest-paid player in the right way when they are not performing. And most of all, it takes nerve to put the short-term success of the team ahead of forcing a new shape through a confidence crisis.

That is why I am where I am now. Slot, to me, cannot motivate a team low on confidence to turn the season around. I listen to him and I hear Brenda reborn. Even Roy, for all his faults, had passion, and coming after someone as charismatic as Jurgen only makes the contrast harsher.

I want Slot replaced right now, not just because of results or tactics, but because of what it has done to how I feel about my club. I would rather have a few games under Stevie than watch another season quietly fizzle out.

Written by Zeddicus April 9 2026 22:24:06