Liverpool (Soccer Team)

Change at Chelsea. A loss at Liverpool. Chaos is part and parcel of the Premier League story line. But it doesn’t have to be that way.Chelsea managed to cycle through it all in nine hours, give or take. First, bright and early on Wednesday, came the announcement that the club’s owners had decided to dispense with the services of Manager Thomas Tuchel, after a reign encompassing a mere 19 months and one measly Champions League title.The window for shock was a relatively brief one. Chelsea had only just concluded a summer of spending unlike anything the Premier League had ever seen — two months of shock and awe and photos of Todd Boehly, the club’s co-controlling chairman and interim sporting director — most of it seemingly conducted in accordance with Tuchel’s wishes.But no matter: An explanation emerged swiftly, centered on the desire of Boehly and the rest of his consortium to change the culture at Chelsea and their belief that Tuchel was not the right figurehead for that shift. Quite what form that new culture will take, and quite why the 49-year-old Tuchel could not be part of it, has not been adequately explained, at least not yet.Still, there was no time for questions. Graham Potter, the impressive coach of Brighton, had been installed as favorite to succeed Tuchel by lunchtime on Wednesday. Chelsea had been in touch with his current employer by dinner. He had “verbally agreed” to take the job — as opposed to agreeing by interpretive dance, presumably — by the time darkness fell.Welcome to the Thunderdome, Graham Potter. Rui Vieira/Associated PressAnd just like that, Chelsea’s crisis — one that had been difficult to discern, from the outside, before Tuchel was dismissed, and one that seemed to be entirely of its own making — had come and gone. Just like nature, though, soccer abhors a vacuum.So it was fortunate, in many ways, that by 8:46 p.m. Italian time, Liverpool had stepped forward to produce arguably the worst Champions League performance of Jürgen Klopp’s tenure. Within 45 seconds of kickoff in Naples, Napoli had broken Liverpool’s holographic back line and hit the post. It went, it is fair to say, downhill from there.By the time the game ended, Liverpool had officially occupied the chaos space so recently vacated by Chelsea. Klopp, the coach who guided the club to two trophies — and a Champions League final — barely four months ago, was asked in his news media conference after the game if he was worried about being fired.Even by the standards of the Premier League, this was pretty good going: not just one major team in crisis, but two, and both of them on the same day. It is only a couple of weeks since Manchester United was afforded that status, a consequence of Erik ten Hag’s losing his first two games as coach, but that already seems to belong to the dim and distant past. Ten Hag’s stock is soaring: He has collected two more points than Tuchel, and three more than Klopp.Napoli 4, Liverpool 1: a single defeat, or an existential crisis?Ciro De Luca/ReutersIt is not ridiculous, of course, to suggest that both Chelsea and Liverpool have disappointed a little this season. Both have stuttered, in the Premier League and the Champions League alike. Both have seemed to be less than the sum of their parts. Both are not meeting the standard they set for themselves.Analyzing and interrogating why that might be is a legitimate exercise. Tuchel had seemed a little frostier, a little more downbeat than habitual in recent weeks; he seemed to chastise his team on a fortnightly basis in what proved to be the last couple of months of his tenure at Stamford Bridge. Rarely, if ever, did he indicate that he knew quite what was wrong, or how to fix it.That is the challenge facing Klopp, too. Liverpool, ordinarily so dogged and so fearsome, has looked distinctly fatigued through the opening weeks of the season. It has stirred itself only in patches, succumbing for vast periods of most of its games to a form of stagnant ennui, as if the players were running on fumes after six exacting years under Klopp.In those circumstances, it is in the nature of the world’s biggest teams that the scrutiny should be intense. That, in essence, is the bargain. Chelsea, like Liverpool and Manchester United, has been complicit in creating a sporting ecosystem in which it is expected to win all of its games, in which almost any defeat is unacceptable. The pressure, the hyperbole, when it comes, is the flip side of the bargain.And yet it was difficult not to be struck by the speed with which crisis descended. Liverpool was humbled in Naples, it is true, but it was still only the second defeat of the club’s season, and only its fourth of the calendar year. Chelsea had stumbled against Leeds and Southampton, but it is only five points adrift of Arsenal, the Premier League leader. It would be a stretch to suggest that, for either team, all is lost.Part of that rush to judgment can be attributed — point your fingers here — to the news media, to the breathless coverage of the major powers of the Premier League, to the desperate need to fill the bottomless digital maw, to the talking-point culture that has slowly consumed soccer (and then everything else) in the past two decades.Marcus Rashford and United beat first-place Arsenal on Sunday. Problems solved?Oli Scarff/Agence France-Presse — Getty ImagesPartly, too, it is because these clubs expect the best and have paid handsomely for it. Chelsea invested $300 million on players this summer and happily would have spent more if possible. Liverpool spends more on the salaries of its current squad than all but three or four teams in the world, one of which is Manchester United. Those fortunes are paid out, essentially, to ward off things like teething problems and dips in form. That, again, is the deal.And, partly, it is because of the game that these superclubs have created: one in which the default assumption, now, is that the team that claims the Premier League title will do so with an almost impossible points tally, in a league in which Manchester City continues to roll on, seemingly unstoppable, Erling Haaland trampling opponents underfoot, and everyone else knows that losing any ground at all now means spending the season treading water, waiting for a chance to start again. There is a fragility, a desperation, an awareness that there is no room for error.It is difficult, though, to believe that any of this is healthy: not for the players and coaches commanded to maintain almost superhuman standards or risk being branded failures and not for the fans, always awaiting the moment the gloom descends.Most of all, it is not in the best interests of the game as a whole, which increasingly seems to exist on a bloodthirsty knife-edge, eagerly awaiting its next victim, the next chance to cry crisis, to dissemble its latest false idol, knowing full well that it will not have to wait very long at all.The Romance BusinessCeltic Park on Tuesday.Andy Buchanan/Agence France-Presse — Getty ImagesFor an hour, Celtic Park was the stage of one of the great Champions League nights. It bubbled and simmered and, as Real Madrid struggled to contain Celtic’s delicately cultivated spirit of adventure, it boiled and roared. Callum McGregor hit the post, and for a moment the noise was such that even the reigning European champion struggled to regain its composure.The Champions League would be diminished beyond recognition without these occasions, of course. There is something visceral, something compelling about the precise sound generated inside one of Europe’s great stadiums — Celtic Park and Ibrox in Glasgow, Napoli’s Stadio Diego Armando Maradona, the Velodrome in Marseille — when one of the continent’s self-appointed elites rolls into town.It is important to note, though, that the root of all the son et lumiere that makes those nights so special is an inequality so deeply entrenched that it can make Celtic — one of the world’s great clubs — feel like an impossible underdog, as if it were a part-time outfit made up of cobblers and dental hygienists on an unexpected cup run.It is an inequality that has, to a large extent, been created and intensified by the Champions League itself, as it funnels more and more money to fewer and fewer clubs. As stirring, as emotive as those games can be, they come with a grim irony, too: At least part of the appeal of the Champions League can be traced to its ability to take the consequences of imbalance and turn it into spectacle.How to Solve a Problem Like the Premier LeagueToni Kroos, at least, is not worried.“The television money has been significantly higher in England for years,” Kroos, a Real Madrid midfielder, said this week, when asked about the yawning chasm between the spending of the Premier League’s clubs and everyone else. “It hasn’t resulted in English teams’ winning everything.” Europe’s three club competitions last season, as he pointed out, were won by teams that were conspicuously not English.Kroos is as articulate and thoughtful a player as they come — although he does harbor a worrying admiration for the music of Robbie Williams, a personal stain that cannot be disregarded — but his interpretation on this matter is a little glib. The contrast between the financial strength of the Premier League and the fragility of its rivals is a cause for concern.It is something, though, that can be addressed, should UEFA find the will or the conviction to do so. There is nothing it can do, of course, about the amount of money that flows into the Premier League, either from television networks or from external investors, be they private equity firms or nation states.But it can regulate the way that money can be spent. It has already imposed limits on the number of players a club can send out on loan. It could also increase the number of locally reared players each team must name in its squad or the number of players under a certain age. It could investigate the idea of regionalized leagues, too, to help decrease the competitive imbalance.It should, though, do something. Because the alternative is that the major clubs of continental Europe will determine that the only solution — the only way to try to keep pace — is to cut UEFA, and their national leagues, out of the equation altogether.CorrespondenceAs the adage has it, if there is one thing journalists like talking about — apart from other journalists, behind their backs — it is journalism itself. The craft. The art. The mission. The diminished expense accounts. Thanks, then, to Tim Lott for affording me the opportunity to clear my throat.“Reading all the coverage of Chelsea, I’m struck by the narrative that (I suppose) Todd Boehly and his folks are selling,” he wrote. “There are certain themes common in all stories: Thomas Tuchel’s detachment behind the scenes, a minor spat over Cristiano Ronaldo, so many attackers wanting out.“This has got me wondering about the sausage-making: How does everyone end up with mostly the same story? And why hasn’t anyone been able to report it beforehand?”The universal symbol of a club in crisis: the corner flag photo.Neil Hall/EPA, via ShutterstockTim is right: There are times at which various lines are pushed by various interested parties, all of them effectively competing to make their version of the truth the one that takes hold (but none of them, for the most part, are actually willing to put their name to it). The journalist’s job, on those occasions, is to pick through the morass, to find the common themes, to try to work out what is most cogent.Tuchel’s dismissal is a little different. The reason most of the reporting covers similar ground this time is because — as far as my own investigation could gather — that is, largely, what happened. That it might have been reported earlier is a valid point, but there is a tendency, in soccer as in so much else, to reverse-engineer explanations, to determine cause only when consequence is clear.We had an anonymous question, too, on one of the finer points of transfer reporting. “You mention that Erling Haaland’s true cost was approximately $100 million,” the Mystery Correspondent wrote. “Does this mean the published fees are regularly less than the actual cost?”The answer to this is: kind of. As a rule, the fee that is reported has always been the amount the buying club pays the selling club. Increasingly, though, that convention seems inadequate, not just because salary is often the bulk of the cost to the purchaser, but because — as the Haaland deal illustrates nicely — a cheaper price can mean a higher cut goes to the agent(s). It is, perhaps, time to discuss transfers in terms of their total cost, rather than simply focusing on one aspect.A great point, meanwhile, from Tom Karsay. “Maybe it should be pointed out that the money Manchester United [and everyone else] spent doesn’t come from owners’ pockets,” he wrote. “It comes from the advertising revenues of the television networks, which comes from our labor, the sweat of our brows. Maybe fans, keeping that in mind, would be less likely to cheer new acquisitions.” More

English teams awash in cash broke records for players and prices this summer, proving again that they operate on a plane apart from their rivals.To take just one snapshot from just one day in a whole summer of indulgence and excess, there was a point, last week, during which all of these things were happening at the same time:There were representatives of West Ham United pressing $58 million into the grateful palms of Lyon in exchange for Lucas Paqueta, a mercurial Brazilian playmaker. Their counterparts from Newcastle were offering Real Sociedad $72 million for the Swedish striker Alexander Isak.Chelsea’s self-appointed sporting director, Todd Boehly, meanwhile, had given up on his brief pursuit of the Manchester United captain, Harry Maguire, and was instead buffeting Leicester City with bids for Wesley Fofana. United, in turn, was peppering Ajax with offers for Antony, yet another Brazilian wing, working their way toward an unmoving asking price in what appeared to be increments of $10 million.This is what the Premier League does every year, of course: Every summer, and most winters, its clubs descend on Europe, the cash from infinitely spiraling television deals burning a hole in their pockets, and proceed to hose an entire continent with money. They swamp it, they flood it, they drown it with their wealth.And then, at the end of August, they go home, armed with a few more Brazilian playmakers and Swedish strikers, ready to play the games that will earn the money for them to do it all over again in a few months.The Swedish striker Alexander Isak scored in his Newcastle debut after joining from Spain’s Real Sociedad.Phil Noble/ReutersThe ritual, the great ceremonial spending of broadcasters’ money, is not just familiar — an annual tradition that has long since lost its power to shock, the figures involved now so inflated and improbable that they seem to mean almost nothing at all — but, in England at least, actively celebrated.The amount the Premier League’s clubs have spent is, without fail, heralded as a triumph by a variety of not entirely neutral onlookers: accountancy firms for whom the rude health of English soccer is a central plank of their business; the broadcasters who have, at heart, paid for it all; the league itself. The total sum is used as a proxy measure for power, a gauge for how big and strong English soccer has grown and, by extension, how weak and small everyone else must be.This summer has brought even more flexing than normal. The figures have been even more eye-watering than usual. By the time the transfer window closed on Thursday evening, the Premier League’s teams had burned their way through $2.3 billion, gross, in the space of just a couple of months.That is a record, of course, and not by a little: The previous high-water mark was almost $600 million lower. To suggest, too, that it is more than all the money spent by the rest of Europe’s so-called Big Five leagues — Italy, Spain, Germany, France — combined does not quite capture the full picture. Chelsea spent more money this summer than any English club has spent previously. Nottingham Forest signed more players than any English club has ever signed in a single window. Nine teams spent more than £100 million. English teams spent three times as much as their nearest challengers. It has been a wild and unrestrained festival of consumption.And yet, while that speaks volumes for the financial power the Premier League now wields over all of its competitors on the continent, the image it has created is not of a competition bristling with strength, but rather of one addled with desperation, filled by clubs consumed by fear, and so suffused by riches that it has, in some quarters at least, apparently divested itself of thought.There are clubs, of course, that have acquitted themselves well in the transfer market: Manchester City, say, surgically picking off Erling Haaland and Kalvin Phillips and then, at last moment, spying an opportunity to sign Manuel Akanji from Borussia Dortmund for a reduced fee and taking it. Or Crystal Palace, judiciously adding only a couple of new faces who might help its young, intriguing squad develop. Or Brighton, selling high and buying cheap and getting better in the process.But for the most part, there has been a wantonness to the spending: Chelsea, spraying money at almost anyone it could think of to sign any player who might be available, the club’s new owners apparently so confident of the rising tide of broadcast rights and merchandise deals that they are willing to write off a couple of hundred million here or there.Or Manchester United, who tried to cut a deal with Ajax for Antony but, when that didn’t work, simply paid what it had long regarded as an inflated asking price anyway, without so much as blinking. Or Fulham, signing the 34-year-old Willian on the final day of the window for, well, for some reason.Some of those signings will, of course, prove to be wise, worthwhile investments. Perhaps Antony will provide Manchester United with the balance its attack has lacked. Maybe the 20 players Forest has acquired — no, that is not a stray zero — will help it remain in the top flight. Chelsea may be improved by the presence of Raheem Sterling, Kalidou Koulibaly and the rest.The now former Ajax wing Antony, definitely not displaying his asking price to Manchester United.Maurice Van Steen/EPA, via ShutterstockThe broader impression, though, has not been of clubs smartly addressing their shortcomings, gradually tending to their needs. It has, instead, been of a reckless mercantile zeal, of acquisition for its own sake, of a gross hedonism at a time when the country which the Premier League takes as its host is in the grip of soaring energy prices and rampant inflation and wondering whether it will be able to afford to get through the winter. The Premier League’s clubs are not just inured to that, they stand as a direct contrast to it. It is almost as if they have internalized the idea that spending is, indeed, a measure of strength, a virtue in and of itself.Many of the deals, certainly, possess a transience, a fleetingness, an inherent futility. They offer an immediate reassurance, a jolt of excitement, a dose of adrenaline, but the suspicion is that, as the season plays out, the urgency to sign them — the clauses met and the demands accepted — will seem a little rash. Did Chelsea really need Marc Cucurella? Is Lucas Paqueta notably better than what was already available at West Ham? Had Manchester United not spent quite a lot of money on a winger last summer, too?On one level, it does not matter, of course. The Premier League’s coffers will be refilled over the course of the next few months. There is always enough money pouring in to cover any missteps. The league’s clubs always have the option of buying themselves out of trouble.But that is not to say there are no consequences. Each one of those signings represents a chance denied to a young player, one hoping to make the breakthrough, to find their way in the game.Kalidou Koulibaly, part of Chelsea’s most recent summer of splurges. Andrew Redington/Getty ImagesChelsea might have given time, this season, to Levi Colwill, a defender the club regards as one of its brightest prospects in years. Instead, he has been farmed out to Brighton, just so the club could bring in a senior left back to compete with Ben Chilwell. Liverpool could have used its mounting injury problems to blood the promising Stefan Bajcetic; instead, it moved to sign Arthur on loan from Juventus.That is the thing with soccer, the thing that the majority of clubs on the continent have to accept and that England’s teams do not seem to have noticed. There are always more footballers. They are, for all intents and purposes, an unlimited natural resource. Often, they are right there, under your nose, just waiting for an opportunity.England’s clubs rarely offer that. Others, though, do. Ajax will find another Antony soon enough. Lyon will unearth another Paqueta. The urgency, the desperation, to sign any of these players is misplaced; there will be another one next year, just as good. And when they emerge, the English clubs will be ready again, drenching the teams who have discovered them and nurtured them and helped them shine with a great fire hose of cash, thinking only about today, and never about tomorrow.Great Business. For Now.Carlos Soler, on his way from Valencia to P.S.G.Jose Jordan/Agence France-Presse — Getty ImagesCarlos Soler was the last of them. With a few hours left of the transfer window, Paris St.-Germain confirmed it had reached a deal with Valencia to sign Soler, a 25-year-old midfielder who has quietly been one of the most impressive performers in La Liga in the last few years, for somewhere in the region of $20 million.It was typical of the business the French champion has done this summer, under the guidance of Luis Campos, the recruitment guru hired to overhaul a bloated, incoherent squad: uncharacteristically quiet, undeniably competent, surprisingly good value. P.S.G. should be careful. People might start thinking it is a serious club.As well as Soler, after all, Campos has used his contacts in Portugal, in particular, to sign Vitinha, from Porto, Lille’s Renato Sanches and, perhaps most adroitly, Napoli’s Fabian Ruiz. In doing so, he has revamped the P.S.G. midfield, and all for less than $100 million — excluding agent fees — no mean feat given the club’s reputation and the looming specter of counteroffers from the rather less parsimonious Premier League.Only one doubt remains. To accommodate Campos’s cavalry, P.S.G. has had to unmoor Leandro Paredes, Ander Herrera, Georginio Wijnaldum, Idrissa Gueye, Julian Draxler, Ángel Di Maria and Xavi Simons this summer, too. Some, like Wijnaldum, will not be missed. Others, like Draxler, required a change of air.The nature of P.S.G.’s business might have changed, then, but it remains to be seen if the nature of the club has. It is not hard to imagine at least one of the players acquired this summer being on the market again next year, a deal that looks like a bargain now cast by hindsight as an error. P.S.G. has never had a problem recruiting good players. Its issue, for the last decade, has always been working out what to do with them.CorrespondenceSpeaking of Haaland — as we will be doing frequently this season, I suspect — Shawn Donnelly has a question. “I still can’t get over how Manchester City picked him up for just 60 million euros,” he wrote. “Did Borussia Dortmund get robbed? Couldn’t they have got two or three times as much?”They could, Shawn, if only Haaland had not been in possession of a contract with a release clause written into it. All City had to do was match it, and Dortmund was powerless to hold out for a higher figure. The frustration should be tempered, though, by the fact that the release clause was the only reason Dortmund was able to get him at all. Haaland signed for the club in the first place only on the understanding that, sooner rather than later, it would let him go.Erling Haaland, already looking like a bargain.Andrew Yates/EPA, via ShutterstockThere is one other point to be made on that transfer, though: It is more than a little misleading for it to be presented as a deal worth only 60 million euros. It was, in reality, substantially higher: All of the money City saved thanks to his release clause was incorporated, instead, to the fees paid to Haaland’s representatives. That gets you close to $100 million, which is far closer to his real value.Hopefully, we can provide Matt Bilello with similar clarification. “Can you please explain the difference between a ‘cynical’ foul and a professional one?” he asked. “Commentators use them interchangeably, but it seems to me that a cynical foul is a dirty one, whereas a professional one is ‘necessary’ to prevent an advantage to an opponent.”In my understanding, this is basically right. Any common-or-garden foul can be a cynical one, but a professional foul is something very specific: bringing down an opponent to deprive them of an immediate chance to score. (In my head, a professional foul is tackling someone from behind as they charge through on goal.) More