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·08 de dezembro de 2025
A rift too far? Salah, Slot and the battle for Liverpool’s future

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·08 de dezembro de 2025

By any measure, Mohamed Salah has earned the right to be spoken of among Liverpool’s greatest forwards. Since arriving from Roma in 2017 for £34m, he has scored 188 goals, won the Premier League, the Champions League, the Club World Cup, and collected a haul of individual honours that place him alongside the likes of Ian Rush, Roger Hunt, and Kenny Dalglish in the club’s modern folklore. Yet in the space of one extraordinary interview, the relationship between Salah and Liverpool feels closer to rupture than renewal. The Egyptian has never been one for public confrontation, which makes the timing, tone, and content of his outburst all the more significant, and, perhaps, all the more damaging.
What unfolded in the mixed zone at Elland Road was unprecedented for Salah. A player who has long preferred silence over speculation chose to break it in the most dramatic of ways. His claim that he had been “thrown under the bus,” his suggestion that someone inside Liverpool “wanted him to get all of the blame,” and his admission that he no longer has a relationship with Arne Slot marked a line that will be difficult, perhaps impossible, to redraw.
Salah has never been the dressing-room spokesperson. In moments of turmoil, it has been Virgil van Dijk who fronted cameras, defended the team, and even clashed publicly with Wayne Rooney. Salah, by contrast, has preferred silence. That is his right. But that is precisely what makes his intervention now feel pointed. He did not speak when Liverpool needed defending; he chose to speak when he felt wronged. To some supporters, that distinction matters. To others, his brilliance over eight seasons excuses almost any misstep. But even his staunchest admirers would concede that he cannot claim to be targeted while simultaneously opting out of the moments when unity required a collective voice.
It is difficult to avoid comparisons with Cristiano Ronaldo’s departure from Manchester United. The Portuguese forward had his grievances, some valid, but the manner of delivery made his position untenable. Salah’s words were less inflammatory, yet they carried a similar implication: an erosion of trust between star player and manager.
Liverpool’s immediate response offered its own clue. Salah was omitted from the travelling squad for the Champions League tie against Inter Milan, a decision that suggests the club no longer views reconciliation as straightforward. Slot cannot afford to cede authority. Salah, by the tone of his remarks, is in no mood to compromise. Something must give.
The club now faces a binary decision: Salah or Slot. The idea that supporters will back the manager over Salah seems fanciful. Slot, despite winning the league last season, has not yet built the emotional capital to outweigh a modern icon. Many fans will instinctively side with the player who has delivered for nearly a decade, particularly when the team sit ninth and the football has turned stale.
But loyalty cannot disguise reality. Salah’s form has dipped, even if his overall Liverpool record remains extraordinary. In 2024–25 alone, he produced a remarkable 29 league goals and 18 assists, earning the PFA Players’ Player of the Year award. That peak, though, has given way to a period of inconsistency, and his assertion that he “doesn’t have to fight for his position because he earned it” jarred with those who consider football a meritocracy.
In the immediate aftermath, reactions from pundits were as split as the fanbase. Wayne Rooney delivered the most severe verdict, claiming Salah was “destroying his legacy” and insisting Slot must “show his authority” by excluding him from upcoming fixtures. Others, including Rob Green, framed Salah’s words as a misjudgment, an emotional response that gifted Slot the upper hand. Shay Given sympathised, painting a picture of a frustrated substitute whose emotions overwhelmed his judgment, while Thomas Hitzlsperger called the comments wrong but ultimately repairable. Even Michael Owen, who has endured his own complex relationship with the Liverpool fanbase, urged Salah to “bite his lip,” arguing that he could have avoided a crisis simply by letting time do the work.
Salah is unquestionably an admired figure who has brought Liverpool success that would have been unthinkable upon his arrival. Yet, the strongest criticism, that Salah was wrong to speak publicly, is not aimed at diminishing his achievements but at upholding the standards he helped create. Liverpool’s greatest dressing rooms have handled conflict internally. Slot, like any manager, has the authority to select based on form, fitness and tactical needs. Salah’s frustration that others, Ibrahima Konaté, van Dijk, or any number of out-of-form players, continue to start does not, by itself, justify the belief that he must be in the XI. That argument cuts both ways. If the team’s standards have dipped, then the response expected from a leader is to help raise them, not to explain to reporters why he is exempt from the competition.
That Salah has avoided public defence of his teammates at earlier points this season complicates his claim of being unfairly scapegoated by the media. While van Dijk shouldered criticism when the squad was under fire, Salah remained silent then. That silence becomes a factor now.
Still, the claim that these comments will taint his legacy feels premature. Legacies in football endure far beyond weeks of turbulence. Salah has won everything there is to win with Liverpool. He has been their saviour on too many nights, too central to too many memories, to be diminished by one interview. If this is the beginning of the end, and it very well may be, then it is a messy ending, but not a disqualifying one. Time softens everything. In a decade, supporters will remember a legendary scorer, not a disgruntled substitute at Elland Road.
What remains unclear is whether Salah will play for Liverpool again. Slot must now weigh the immediate cost of indulging a player who has challenged his authority against the broader cost of discarding a legend midseason. The Champions League squad for Inter Milan may provide the first answer, particularly given Salah has now been left out of the travelling party. But there is another factor at play: the Africa Cup of Nations. In ordinary circumstances, AFCON’s timing is framed as an inconvenience to the club. Now it may be the opposite. A month away offers the cooling-off period Salah’s comments did not allow. It gives Liverpool space to plan, Slot space to assert control, and Salah space to reflect without microphones following him down corridors.
And there is the Saudi question. Al-Hilal remain interested, and Liverpool, privately, pragmatically, have made clear they are open-minded. Salah’s contract is lucrative and short-term; next summer would have been a natural crossroads even without this rupture. A January move is not unrealistic, particularly if the club concludes that his public stance renders reintegration impossible. Yet it is also possible that both sides see value in a temporary ceasefire. Liverpool need goals, leadership, and experience. Salah still wants to leave a season in England on his terms.
What complicates matters most is that Slot cannot afford mutiny, nor can he afford to appear weak. Supporters may prefer Salah in the short term, but the club cannot build a functional future if the manager’s authority is undermined. Salah’s interview, intended or not, made this a test of that authority. Slot’s response, whether he ostracises Salah or reintegrates him with firmness, will define his credibility as much as any result.
There is a version of this story in which both will swallow their pride, find common ground, and continue. There is another in which AFCON becomes a graceful exit ramp. There is a third in which Salah returns, and this saga becomes a footnote in an otherwise glorious career. But for the first time in his Liverpool life, none of those outcomes feel guaranteed.
What is certain is this: Liverpool supporters may disagree about Salah’s interview, but they know what he has meant. Legacies are not erased by microphones, they are built over years, and Salah’s remains intact, perhaps dented, perhaps complicated, but still towering.
The ending, however, is now out of his hands. It will be written by Slot, by circumstance, and perhaps by AFCON.
GFN | Finn Entwistle









































