Anfield Index
·23 January 2026
Liverpool slammed for ‘boring’ Premier League performances

In partnership with
Yahoo sportsAnfield Index
·23 January 2026

Liverpool’s season under Arne Slot continues to feel like a story told in fragments. One week brings European assurance, the next domestic uncertainty. Progress and doubt coexist. Control and chaos take turns at the wheel. And somewhere in the middle of it all sits a fanbase trying to decide whether to believe what it is seeing.
Speaking recently on Scouser Tommies for Anfield Index, Jim Boardman and Jay Reid offered a candid, often uncomfortable reflection on where Liverpool stand. Their discussion captured the mood of a club caught between potential and paralysis, between tactical promise and recurring frustration.
This is a Liverpool team that can still look formidable. It is also one that too often looks unsure of itself.

Photo: IMAGO
The emotional rhythm of this campaign has been wildly unpredictable. Early optimism quickly gave way to anxiety, before European nights restored belief, only for league performances to undermine it again.
As Jim Boardman admitted, “It’s been such an up and down season. Five games in we thought, ‘Are we going to win it again?’ Ten games later we thought, ‘Are we going to win anything ever again?’”
That sense of instability has become a defining feature of Slot’s first full campaign. Liverpool can dismantle respected European sides, yet struggle to impose themselves against lower-ranked domestic opposition. They look fearless in one setting and timid in another.
Boardman also highlighted the growing emotional fatigue among supporters. “People pay a lot of money to follow this club… and the enthusiasm is getting knocked out of us,” he said, reflecting a sentiment increasingly heard around Anfield.
The frustration is not rooted in failure alone. It comes from inconsistency. From the feeling that something is almost there, yet never quite sustained.
Much of the debate centres on Slot’s tactical approach, particularly Liverpool’s ongoing difficulties against compact defensive systems. The so-called low block has become both a practical obstacle and a psychological one.
Jay Reid was blunt in his assessment. “Teams have done the low block forever. You’re Liverpool. Ninety-five per cent of teams will come and sit in because getting a result against you is huge,” he said.
The problem is not that opponents defend deep. It is that Liverpool so often fail to disrupt them. Movement becomes predictable. Passing slows. Attacks drift sideways rather than forward.
Reid summed up the Burnley performance with cutting clarity: “Against Burnley, it was the usual crab football. Side to side, ponderous, slow. We just recycle and recycle and recycle.”
Slot has spoken frequently about statistics, dominance and expected outcomes. Yet numbers have not always translated into momentum. For Jim Boardman, this reliance risks obscuring reality. “Put your stats book away… and try and watch the game. Passion plays a part in football,” he argued.
The criticism is not anti-analysis. It is anti-detachment. Football, especially at Anfield, demands emotional engagement as much as structural precision.
Perhaps the most telling development this season has been the shifting atmosphere inside the stadium. Anfield remains iconic, but it is no longer immune to disillusionment.
Reid acknowledged the tension. “What we’ve been seeing for the last three months is not working… The football is boring,” he said, describing a mood that has seeped into the stands.
Booing, once unthinkable in certain sections of the ground, has become audible. More common, though, is something quieter: resignation. Supporters leaving early. Conversations filled with weary repetition. The same complaints after the same matches.
Boardman captured the contradiction neatly. “If you watched that game in isolation, you’d wonder what all the fuss was about,” he said. “But we can do it against teams who don’t play the low block. Far too often this season, we just haven’t.”
It is not anger alone that troubles Slot. It is indifference. A muted crowd reflects a team that has stopped inspiring certainty.
European performances have offered glimpses of what Slot wants Liverpool to become: quicker, braver, more vertical. Full-backs advancing. Midfielders rotating. Attacks breaking lines rather than circulating around them.
Reid believes the answer lies in variety. “You’ve got to present different looks. Right now, we’re probably presenting two or three questions and teams already have the answers,” he warned.
When Liverpool did vary their approach, particularly in recent Champions League outings, the difference was visible. More risk. More penetration. More chaos in opposition penalty areas.
That led Reid to a simple conclusion: “If it ain’t broke, why try and fix it? That worked last night. Let’s go with it again.”
Yet this is where doubt persists. Promising performances have too often been followed by regression. False dawns have become familiar. Tactical solutions appear, then disappear.
Slot remains under pressure not because Liverpool are failing outright, but because they are hovering in a grey zone: competitive, capable, but rarely convincing for long.
This season still contains opportunity. Progress in Europe. A congested league table. A squad that retains elite talent. But time is running short for Slot to turn moments into momentum.
Liverpool do not lack ability. They lack continuity. And until that changes, uncertainty will remain the dominant theme.
Live








































