Liverpool's Unbeaten Run Masks Deeper Malaise as Van Dijk Points to Familiar Failing

Ten consecutive matches without defeat sounds impressive on paper. For context, it surpasses what West Ham, Sunderland, Stoke, Brighton, Fulham, Southampton and Bolton have ever achieved in their Premier League histories. Only Arsenal's run this season has bettered it, and should Liverpool avoid defeat against Bournemouth and Newcastle at home, they would eclipse even that.

Yet the devil lurks firmly in the details. Arsenal's 11-game unbeaten stretch yielded 27 points. Liverpool's current 10-match sequence? A meagre 18 points. The difference is stark: four unconvincing victories against sides ranked 12th or lower—two of which occupy the relegation zone—combined with six draws. In essence, they're barely better off than when this streak began in earnest.

That starting point came after back-to-back 3-0 thrashings by Manchester City and Nottingham Forest, a period when Arne Slot's position wobbled and the club sat two points adrift of the Champions League places. They remain in that exact position now.

The comparison inevitably recalls Jose Mourinho's time at Old Trafford, when Manchester United strung together 25 Premier League games without loss, climbing from eighth to fifth—yet drifting from eight points off top to 16 behind. Mourinho, characteristically unbothered, mused that an unbeaten run carried its own merit regardless of points accumulated. Better to draw ten times and maintain mental solidity, he reasoned, than win five and lose five. Never mind that the latter scenario yields more points.

Slot, mercifully, has avoided such philosophical gymnastics. Even with a title-winner's pedigree, he knows that argument holds no water—particularly after Liverpool became the first reigning Premier League champions to fail to beat any newly promoted side at home in a single season.

Draws against Burnley and Leeds, plus that stumble at Craven Cottage against Fulham, hardly suggest momentum building. They suggest the opposite: a side playing nervously, acutely conscious of how fragile their position remains. As matches wear on, this anxiety intensifies.

Virgil van Dijk articulated the issue with weary familiarity following another sluggish second-half showing. "After 60 minutes, we started to become sloppy and it's not the first time," the captain noted, his tone one of disappointed resignation. "It's been spoken about already but we have to address it again apparently."

Whether such conversations have occurred or are yet to happen, the broader picture is troubling. When decent Liverpool performances this season barely fill a hand's worth of fingers, when their star-studded squad continues to underperform expectation, and when a dozen unbeaten matches leaves supporters more exasperated than encouraged, one must ask: is sloppiness truly the enemy, or has something else gone awry?