Neil Atkinson’s post-match review for The Anfield Wrap after Liverpool 2 Wolves 1 in the 2025-2026 Premier League at Anfield…
This is the truism:
There are no easy games in the Premier League.
Liverpool’s commitment to proving this is spectacular.
It has been for the duration of Arne Slot’s reign. Last season Slot’s side set a league record for the number of times they scored two or more goals. But the “or more” there is redundant, so rarely did they make it three, especially if we don’t count sides who eventually finished in the bottom three. Or Tottenham.
Today though it would have been brilliant to score the “or more” against a side that will finish in the bottom three. At any point, especially before the Wolverhampton Wanderers goal but really any time, a third would have ended the contest. But it was not to end on Liverpool’s terms, on the scoreboard terms. It was to end on the terms of the clock. It was to stay alive until the bitter end.
This made the end bitter. Liverpool’s last twenty five minutes left a taste of sheer frustration and desperation. Let’s come back to them.
Because let’s talk about what’s sweet. Let’s talk about Florian Wirtz.
Wolves turn up under no illusions but full of commitment. It’s a back five with three players who could be 6s or 8s. And they can’t get near him. They can’t stop him. The game is in the palm of his hand and time and again he stretches Wolves to breaking point.
It is all so graceful, so elegant. He brings such rich pleasure to proceedings but it is never pointless, instead always purposeful. He makes the game sit up and beg with his touch and his movement but more than anything with the pictures in his brain.
The truly great players you get to see – and it is worth saying that spending quality time at Anfield means you get to see genuine greats who wear both red and other shades – have the ability to see what you in row 30 cannot, and execute in a way which makes you breathless with excitement at the sheer brio displayed.
The great players have pictures, they have sight which is uncanny and Wirtz until 70 minutes shows in spades what he is about. His hips shimmy, his influence and his involvement is relentless. He is all of our ways home. Liverpool currently can be criticised on and off the pitch across the last six months – though we should always bear the mitigating circumstances in mind – but there honestly isn’t a single player I’d swap Florian Wirtz for.
This isn’t a partisan position as much as an aesthetic one. I just want to watch this man play football every four days for the rest of my life. Today he lit up Anfield in a way few manage.
That few is not simply a list of Liverpudlian greatness. His ball through to Hugo Ekitike immediately drew Dalglish to Rush comparisons. It is a ball I have seen Mo Salah play. It is also the sort of ball I saw Jari Litmanen or Philippe Coutinho play. Dalglish and Salah had dream Liverpool careers in terms of honours. Litmanen and Coutinho less so.
For Wirtz it is entirely about what happens next but it can also be about the process, the moment, the creation of joy and awe. I was privileged to get to see Jari Litmanen. But I want to win the world with Florian Wirtz.
And Hugo Ekitike. My god. What I love about Ekitike is what we get today – a great performance where you can’t keep him out of the action which doesn’t need a goal. He’s in the game and three centre-backs know it. He plays on them all.
Jeremie Frimpong first-half from right-back is magnificent. He creates the first because he wants to show commitment and draw commitment, leaves two irrelevant and finds Ryan Gravenberch. He’s marvellous throughout. A tremendous runner and a constant threat.
But we need to talk about what’s bitter. Liverpool’s inability to attack defensive set-pieces is going to leave their season in ribbons. Are they badly structured? Are they lax? Are they too eager and too irresponsible? Is it all the above? It usually is.
This led to Liverpool letting go of the scoreboard. It’s fair to say Liverpool should make it three but it is also fair to say that two at home against a side with 2 points at Christmas should be enough.
And so it proved. However the proving threw open other questions. This squad is short. It was short on September 1st and was short today. And this squad is lacking both fitness and being injury-free. Arguably that was also the case on September 1st, and we also got to see part of the reason why today.
Wolverhampton Wanderers were a credit to themselves on the 18th minute and in their response to the 20th. Today was always going to be emotional and going to Molyneux will be emotional when it comes round. The last couple of days Jürgen Klopp and Virgil van Dijk have made something clear that was always clear:
The footballer and person that was Diogo Jota was loved and he made it a joy to be alive for those around him. He made everything the best type of mutual endeavour, a collective conspiracy to mine the sheer pleasure out of every moment.
I mean, what a thing. I love a conspiracy, a co-conspirator. In Jürgen’s writing he mentions Leicester City in the Carabao and I wrote about that in Transformer: wrote about the journey between a game which was a chore to be got through that became a matter of critical importance, and there is Diogo Jota on the same journey. A co-conspirator.
And in the midst of Liverpool’s pre-season that person was lost along with his brother, in tragic circumstances. This whole season is a message about the importance of pre-season and Liverpool’s was on its knees, broken with loss.
There have been other issues, other complexities and away from the pitch a lot of people haven’t got things right. Liverpool have made mistakes and not engaged with reality.
All of this, the loss, the mistakes, the ineptitude from set-pieces, the injuries contribute to the bitter end and my god it is bitter. Liverpool are hanging on for dear life against a side which only has a pair of points.
Liverpool have shown sheer football joy and end on the precipice of utter despair. Liverpool end the year not quite good enough for their ultimate ambitions but just enough to win.
It has been a remarkable year. It included the greatest day in my lifetime at Anfield; I’d argue the best ever alongside April 18th 1964. It has had genuine tragedy, Liverpudlian beauty, ridiculous achievement and unbelievable and perhaps in a way unconscionable sums of money.
It has crowned an era and pointed to a new one. It has brought the sweetest joy that we could ever have shared in.
There are truisms and there are truisms. There are no easy games in the Premier League. There aren’t. Nothing should be easy. But another truism is this: drain every moment of its joy and share it with your friends. It’s how everything good starts.
All the best.
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