Liverpool’s season had been living on a knife edge, a constant dance between disaster and destiny. Week after week, Arne Slot’s team had been pulling off late miracles, rescuing points from the jaws of defeat, finding winners in the dying moments, and convincing fans that maybe this was a team touched by fate. But at Selhurst Park on a cold September evening, fate finally turned its back. Lady Luck, who had walked hand in hand with Liverpool since the start of the campaign, deserted them in the cruellest way possible. Crystal Palace, a side that had been written off by many before a ball was kicked, struck at the death. And the man to deliver the final blow was Eddie Nketiah, the poacher who has made a career out of sniffing out opportunities when others have switched off. Liverpool’s streak of last-minute heroics was ended by a last-minute heartbreak.
From the very beginning of the match, things felt off. Arne Slot, usually calm and composed on the touchline, lost his temper within minutes. He was shown a yellow card after berating the officials over a decision he felt went against his team. It was a sign of the tension that was brewing. Palace, roared on by their fans who had been waiting for a night like this, pressed Liverpool back and made them look uncomfortable. They were faster to every ball, sharper in the duels, and hungrier in attack. Liverpool, meanwhile, looked like strangers trying to figure out a system that wasn’t clicking.
Florian Wirtz and Alexander Isak, two signings who had cost the club hundreds of millions, once again looked lost in the setup. The German wonderkid who was supposed to be the new engine of Liverpool’s midfield seemed restricted, playing in spaces where he couldn’t influence the game. Isak, the tall Swedish striker who had been brought in to give Liverpool a new cutting edge, was isolated, feeding off scraps, his runs ignored or wasted. It wasn’t just about individuals though. The whole system looked broken. The fluidity that Liverpool fans were used to seeing under Klopp and expected to continue under Slot was missing. Possession was wasted, passes went astray, and the team looked like it was dragging itself through mud every time it tried to build an attack.
And then there was Mohamed Salah. Once the king of Anfield, the man who terrorised defenders and scored goals at will, he suddenly looked human. Slower, less sharp, unable to beat his man in the way he once did. Whisper it quietly, but Salah looked like a player nearing the end of his peak. The decline was subtle, but it was there, in the way he mistimed his touches and hesitated in moments where the old Salah would have been ruthless.
Palace sensed it. They grew in confidence as the game went on, knowing that this was their night to expose Liverpool’s weaknesses. Jaidon Anthony, Eberechi Eze, and Michael Olise combined beautifully in attack, stretching the Liverpool defence and creating chances. Chris Richards and Marc Guehi stood tall at the back, denying Isak and Salah whenever they threatened. It wasn’t just a defensive job though; Palace went after Liverpool with courage, refusing to sit deep and soak pressure. They played with freedom, and that freedom troubled the Reds.
By half-time, Liverpool were already looking battered. They had been second best all over the pitch, but somehow they survived. Slot knew his team had been in this situation before. He had seen them pull a rabbit out of the hat countless times this season, most recently against Bournemouth when Federico Chiesa had popped up with a dramatic late strike. And once again, Slot turned to Chiesa. The Italian winger, full of energy and unpredictability, carried the fight. When Liverpool needed a lifeline, it was Chiesa who delivered.
Palace had defended brilliantly for most of the game, but one lapse from Chris Richards undid all their hard work. The defender misjudged the flight of the ball, Chiesa pounced, drove into the box, and slid his shot past Sam Johnstone. Selhurst Park fell silent. Liverpool had done it again, pulling level from nowhere. The story felt familiar: Palace had worked, battled, and given everything, but Liverpool were about to steal something at the death.
The relief on Slot’s face was visible. He clenched his fists and roared to the away fans, convinced that his team had pulled off another miracle. Even VAR tried to intervene. There was a check for handball against Salah in the build-up, but after a long pause, the officials found nothing conclusive. The goal stood. Liverpool believed they had their point, maybe even more. The momentum was shifting.
But football is cruel. Just when it seemed like Liverpool were about to escape with another trademark finish, the game twisted again. Palace weren’t done. They regrouped, they pressed forward, and they refused to let the script play out in Liverpool’s favour. With the game deep into stoppage time, the ball fell to Eddie Nketiah inside the box. It was the 98th minute, and Liverpool were stretched. The striker needed only one touch, one strike, and he buried it. Donnarumma had no chance. The net bulged, Selhurst Park erupted, and Liverpool collapsed.
Arne Slot was furious. He turned on the fourth official, shouting and gesturing, his face red with frustration. But it was no use. The whistle blew moments later. Palace had won, Liverpool had been beaten, and the narrative of their season was suddenly rewritten. The team that had lived on late winners was finally brought crashing down by a late goal against them.
Chris Sutton, on BBC Radio 5 Live, summed it up best: “They were absolutely pummelled in the first half, but they just don’t stop. They are relentless.” He had been talking about Liverpool’s mentality after Chiesa’s equaliser. But the story ended differently. Ashley Williams on Final Score captured the emotion as Nketiah scored: “It is everything that Crystal Palace deserve. Arne Slot is moaning at the fourth official, but this is Palace’s night. It’s a great finish from Nketiah.”
The drama was complete. Liverpool, who had built their reputation this season on never knowing when they were beaten, had finally been beaten in the cruelest way. Their luck was gone. Their flaws were exposed. And Arne Slot, who had been hailed as the manager with the golden touch, now faced questions about his tactics, his team selections, and his ability to get the best out of his expensive stars.
It wasn’t just about losing to Palace. It was about the manner of the defeat. Slot had gambled with his system, trying to fit Wirtz and Isak into roles that didn’t suit them. He had left his team exposed in midfield, relying too heavily on moments of brilliance rather than building a solid foundation. And while Chiesa had once again proven to be Liverpool’s saviour, even he couldn’t paper over the cracks.
The fans knew it too. On social media, they raged about the waste of money on Isak, about Salah’s decline, about Slot’s stubbornness in sticking to a plan that wasn’t working. Some even began to wonder if this was the beginning of the end for Liverpool’s title hopes. It was still early in the season, but nights like this leave scars. Nights like this plant doubts.
For Palace, it was a night of celebration. For Liverpool, it was a night of reckoning. They had been outplayed, outfought, and undone. They had been given a taste of their own medicine, beaten at the death by a team that simply refused to give up. And for Arne Slot, it was a reminder that luck only lasts so long in football. At some point, systems, decisions, and performances matter more than fate.
Liverpool left Selhurst Park bruised, battered, and beaten. They left with more questions than answers. They left knowing that for the first time this season, Lady Luck had abandoned them. And they left knowing that if Slot doesn’t find solutions quickly, more nights like this are coming.
The story of the game will live long in the memory. Not just because of Nketiah’s late winner, but because of what it symbolised. The end of Liverpool’s aura of invincibility. The beginning of doubts. The night their luck ran out
