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On Leadership and Goodbyes

Liverpool had a bit of a seismic week: sacking Arne Slot last Saturday and this past Thursday, naming Adoni Iraola as his replacement. Life moves fast but you’d be forgiven if you’ve got a bit of whiplash between all of these happenings.

Because Slot had just won the Premier League the year prior in what was just his first season at the helm. To see it all crash so quickly and decisively – to the point that he made history being the first league title winner that Liverpool have sacked – is a bit of a stunner. That’s before even taking into account the repeated statements made by the Dutchman during the run-in that he would be back. That the club made this decision after Xabi Alonso had already signed with Chelsea – and, perhaps most importantly, were assured that Iraola was interested in the Liverpool project – is also telling.

I sometimes long to be one of the journalists that’s in the know. Not because I want to write about these things, but mostly because I’m curious. About the decisions surrounding personnel and building out the squad, sure, but also about the strategic thinking behind it all.

For example, as noted above, all signs pointed to Slot staying on. What additional information – besides a generally low-stakes finale – could have been gleaned that the club hierarchy didn’t have access to before that week? Was it Slot’s assessment of things during the post-season review? Was it external factors, such as the aforementioned availability of Iraola?

These are the types of questions that I know have to weigh on the administrators of any enterprise. Something that both appreciates the needs of the present moment while counterbalancing it against the type of forward-thinking that makes a project sustainable.

Which is to say that I’ve been thinking a lot about leadership lately. The types of decisions that folks in management have to make, for example. And also thinking a lot about the ways in which a leadership role impacts those that hold it.

I’ll get this said right off the bat: leadership is lonely. There’s no way around it. Often times the structures we have – at least in the West, given that’s what I’m familiar with – really offer no way around it. At each tier in any organization, one person ultimately holds accountability either for a project or the output of a group of people or for the whole enterprise itself. Even in flat, non-hierarchical organizations, responsibility and accountability often generally live with one person when it comes to specific endeavors being worked on by the collective.

And when you’ve got one person who is ultimately responsible for the success of a project – even if other people are collaborating and supporting the work broadly – I’ve found that the person holding that role often lives on the outside of things. It doesn’t happen all of the time and I’ve envied figures like Jurgen Klopp or other colleagues who seem to be able to move seamlessly in the work, challenging the team they shepherd while also retaining their respect and trust. I’m not saying that those folks don’t have challenges nor am I saying that it doesn’t come back my way either. More that the inevitable cycle of tension that comes from forcing high-stakes circumstances and people deeply motivated to be good at what they do isn’t a dynamic I enjoy. It is not the part of leadership that leaves me feeling fulfilled.

It is, though, an absolutely universal aspect of the job. And the thing I always come to that knocks out any kind of day dreaming about the life of manager or head coach in elite athletics is that it’s a job that is done almost entirely under public scrutiny. With the thing that probably would be soul crushing or, at the very least, deeply irksome being that the majority of those critics would do a much poorer job at it than you.

I thought a lot about that as I watched Arne Slot’s Liverpool flop and gasp and thrash about without settling on an identity. Well, I suppose, an identity that wasn’t what we hoped might be a mirage: a team with limited options to pick apart a defensively resolute squad. Or, put differently given the number of late goals surrendered, one that could never seem to keep their nerve when it mattered most.

Slot’s main responsibility was to take the players given to him and to organize them in a manner that made the most sense given the skill sets at hand. Essentially to put everyone in the best position to succeed week in and week out. He had failed in figuring that out and, at any other club, it likely would have been a given that he’d be on the outs. But this is Liverpool and given the weight of its history as the most successful club in British history as well as acknowledging that winning a Premier League title is as difficult as advertised given the hyper-spending by certain clubs across Europe, there seemed to be an acceptance that moving on this quickly would feel uneasy.

At least, it felt that way until the quality of play became an absolute slog to get through. Without results, the fans began to tire. And without the fans, it becomes easier to do the hard thing.

If there is a shout for Slot’s defense – and I’m far from an apologist – it has to be said that Liverpool dealing with the death of a teammate and friend had to be the piece in all of this that was impossible to quantify. None of the folks involved would deign to use the passing of Diogo Jota as an excuse, but the connotation of that words robs us, I think, of accurately assessing just how heavy a weight the entire year had to be on everyone.

It felt relatively little remarked upon or, in the case of even my most favorite and level-headed of analysts, a sort of throw-away line used to mildly cushion what would be a scathing – and likely valid – assessment of the season. Which is a disservice to the players and to the year the club had.

I can’t imagine managing a project like Liverpool Football Club in the best of times. Doing so while mourning the loss of a team member? While managing other people mourning that same loss? It feels quite unfathomable.

It is through that window, though, that I’d always found a way to empathizing with the Dutchman; I’d lost a colleague in the Spring of 2025 and I feel we’re all sort of still dealing with that even over a year on. It’s why when the rash of folks indicating they’d be leaving – including the late announcement by Ibrahima Konate – all felt like it made some sense. This was still a core group of players dealing with grief.

Liverpool’s future as a sporting project now lives with Andoni Iraola. I have high hopes given what he’d achieved at Bournemouth. But I also have a bit of fear – a desire to be protective of someone in leadership – because there’s no doubt that the fan base will feel rather free to let loose with their criticisms. It is, after all, part and parcel of being in elite sports.

Here’s hoping that Iraola is met with grace and patience as he tries to chart a path forward for a club that is truly and finally beyond the Jurgen Klopp Era. Some might say we are now in unchartered territory.

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