Eimear Ryan: Part mascot, part manager: We all project onto Jürgen Klopp
Liverpool manager Jürgen Klopp has cut a forlorn, puffy-coated figure of late, stalking the sidelines of empty stadiums. Picture: PA
When I open the upper left cabinet in my kitchen – the press that contains tea, chocolate, and carbohydrates, and thus is opened more frequently than any other – I am met with the smiling face of Jürgen Klopp.
It is a postcard of Klopp’s official squad portrait from the 2016-17 season, purchased at Anfield several years ago, largely due to its being the cheapest souvenir in the official merch store. When we got home, the postcard was blu-tacked to the inside of the cabinet door – initially as a joke, but no one has ever been inclined to take it down since.
There he is, decked out head-to-toe in New Balance, grinning that toothy Teutonic grin. You can do it! his eyes seem to be saying from behind his wire-rim hipster glasses, or I’m proud of you! Or at least, that’s what I project on to him.
We all project onto Klopp. It’s been a while since the Premiership had such an endlessly meme-able manager, from ‘The Normal One’ coffee mugs to novelty publications with names like and . Part mascot, part manager, Klopp manages the politician’s trick of being both charismatic and approachable, like you could have an ice-cold pilsner with him.
Despite not having much prior interest in association football, I live with a Liverpool fan. Since there is a direct correlation between Liverpool’s fortunes and the emotional temperature of the household, I’ve learned to take a passing interest in their fortunes. And they’re an enjoyable team to watch, particularly under Klopp: attacking, determined, creative, and most importantly, flawed enough to allow their fans to experience the full spectrum of emotions.
As a team, they seamlessly transition from the sublime to catastrophe and back again. There aren’t many sides that could implode as spectacularly in a Champions League final as Liverpool did in 2018, and come back and win it the next year.
For the casual fan, in particular, Klopp is a compelling figure – what a friend of mine calls an ‘evolved bro’. From his empathy for his players to his strong sense of perspective and conviction that sport isn’t everything, Klopp is an example of wholesome, positive masculinity. His appeal was summed up nicely by one of his keenest rivals recently: "His philosophy makes football attractive for all spectators," said Pep Guardiola. "He always produces joy to the fans, to world football, to attack, there’s no doubts about this."
It’s interesting to read the comments of Klopp detractors on Twitter – because you can find detractors for everything on Twitter, including sunshine, bunnies, and affable German soccer managers. They seem to take umbrage with his hugs, his touchy-feeliness, his exuberant celebrations after goals – in short, his full range of emotional expression. One senses that these commentators think that all managers should be Alex Ferguson knock-offs: besuited, chewing gum, and glowering.
It was telling, too, that Klopp was forced to account for his terrible mood at press conferences of late by revealing that his mother, Elisabeth, died recently, and he was unable to attend her funeral due to pandemic restrictions. Some managers are in bad form as a matter of course; Klopp’s behaviour was so out of character that it required – and as it turned out, had – a deeper explanation.
Klopp has cut a forlorn, puffy-coated figure of late, stalking the sidelines of empty stadiums. The stats say it all: Liverpool have lost as many games in their last six Premier League fixtures as they did in their previous two seasons put together. They’ve just incurred three league defeats in a row – something which hasn’t happened to the club since 2014 – and have won just three of their last twelve matches.
Their most recent defeat to Leicester last weekend was especially egregious, given that at least two of their conceded goals were gifted to the opposition through defensive errors. The downward trend teed up Tuesday night’s Champions League qualifier as a reckoning of sorts for Klopp: the beginning of the end or a turning point?
There are reasons of course, or excuses: the loss of Van Dijk with no clear replacement, an injury-ridden squad, Alisson’s wobble in form (which might yet present opportunities to Ringmahon Rangers alum Caoimhín Kelleher). The cut-throat nature of Premier League management means that there’s little leeway for a drop in form, even for a manager who has brought them two major titles in recent years. If Klopp is held to his own high standards, he may yet prove a victim of his own success.
Indeed, his Liverpool obituary was already being written in some quarters, and certain online bookies were offering odds on his most likely replacement, with Stevie G the clear favourite. To be fair to Klopp, he tends to know when the jig is up, as evidenced by his recent concession that the 2021 title is out of reach for Liverpool at this stage. (His ability to countenance and even find positives in defeat, in what is essentially a giant confidence game, is another defining factor in the Klopp mystique.)
Had Tuesday’s away fixture against RB Leipzig not gone the way it had, the calls for Klopp to consider his position would only have multiplied. Instead, Liverpool are now looking quite comfortable heading into the second leg, with two away goals in the bag and one eye on the quarter-finals.
In a cathartic reversal of the Leicester game, this time it was Liverpool who were able to capitalise on the opposition’s mistakes, with both Salah and Mané pouncing opportunistically on defensive clangers. Though Alisson came off his line a bit too frequently for my liking – he’s no Eoghan Murphy – he kept a clean sheet for the first time in half a dozen games.
It might be a while yet before we’re back to Klopp’s jovial post-match press conferences or utterances of ‘boom!’, but Tuesday night’s game provided, if not quite redemption, then the glimmer of a comeback.
