I am going to be very honest with you. I am not a Liverpool fan. In fact, there are days when I cheer loudly against them, hoping they fall apart in the Premier League or in Europe. But football has this strange power, it can turn even the strongest rival into a believer for a moment. That is exactly what happened to me during the recent international break when I sat down, almost casually, to watch Andorra play. I expected nothing. I expected an easy stroll, a match that would fade quickly from memory. But what I witnessed that night made me scream in disbelief. I could not stay calm. I could not stay neutral. I saw something that shook me to my core: a player so good, so elegant, so controlling, that my mind immediately screamed—Liverpool must sign him now. If they want to stop Manchester City, if they want to lift the Premier League again, if they want to dream of conquering Europe, then this is the man. No one else. Just him.
The performance was not normal. It was not the type you see every weekend in domestic football. It was a statement. A declaration. A sermon delivered through football boots. Every touch was deliberate. Every pass was perfect. Every decision looked like it was taken two steps ahead of everyone else. He did not just play football; he dictated football. He was the conductor, the orchestra, and the music all at once. And the question that burned in my mind was simple: how is this man not already wearing the red shirt of Liverpool?
Let me break it down. There are players who impress you with one moment of brilliance, maybe a stunning goal or a fancy dribble. But this man? He impressed with every single movement. When the ball came to him, it looked like it had finally reached its home. Under pressure, he did not panic. Surrounded by defenders, he did not shrink. Instead, he thrived. He turned with grace, he passed with precision, and he controlled the tempo of the entire game like a magician.
I could not help but think of Luka Modrić. In fact, I thought of three Luka Modrićs because that is what it felt like—three versions of the Croatian legend rolled into one younger, sharper, hungrier player. He covered the ground of three men, saw passes no one else could imagine, and played with the arrogance of someone born for the biggest stages. It was, without exaggeration, ridiculous.
And here is where Liverpool come in. Because as much as I dislike admitting it, Liverpool right now are close. Very close. They have rebuilt their midfield under Arne Slot. They brought in energy with Alexis Mac Allister. They brought in creativity and dynamism with Dominik Szoboszlai. They still have the intelligence of Thiago when he is fit, and the industry of Curtis Jones when he is trusted. But one thing remains missing. That pure conductor. That midfield general who not only plays the game but defines it. The player who slows it down when needed, speeds it up when demanded, and makes opponents feel like passengers on a ride they cannot control. That player is this man. The one I saw against Andorra. The one who should already be packing his bags for Anfield.
If Liverpool do not act now, they will regret it. Because the world saw what I saw. Clubs like Real Madrid, Bayern Munich, PSG, and even Arsenal will already be preparing scouting reports. The value of this player is climbing with every performance. And when a player like this explodes onto the scene, there is no time to hesitate. The moment to move is now. Liverpool cannot wait until next summer, they cannot hope that no one else notices. Everyone has noticed. Everyone is watching.
And what happens if Liverpool hesitate? Then they kiss goodbye to their dreams of reclaiming the Premier League. They wave farewell to their hopes of another Champions League run. Because if Manchester City, already stacked with world-class players, get their hands on him, the gap will only widen. If PSG bring him in, they will dominate France and threaten Europe. If Madrid secure him, they add yet another jewel to their crown. But if Liverpool act first, if they make the bold move, then suddenly the balance shifts. Suddenly, Liverpool are no longer chasing—they are leading.
Let me paint you a picture. Imagine him at Anfield, standing in the tunnel with Virgil van Dijk beside him, Mohamed Salah ahead of him, and Darwin Núñez ready to run into his passes. Imagine him with the Kop roaring, dictating the game, spreading the ball wide, cutting through defenses with surgical precision. Imagine him walking into the Etihad, calm as ice, and silencing Manchester City with one performance that leaves Guardiola scratching his head. This is not just fantasy. This is possibility. This is reality waiting to happen—if Liverpool are brave enough.
Slot’s Liverpool already have the energy, the pace, the intensity. What they lack is the brain. The ruthless elegance. The metronome that keeps everything in rhythm. He is that metronome. He is that missing puzzle piece.
And let us not sugarcoat this: Liverpool’s rivals will not sleep. City are ruthless in recruitment. Madrid do not wait. Bayern act when they must. If Liverpool think they can watch quietly and hope the world looks away, they are mistaken. The value of this player is rising every minute, and soon it may be too late.
The cost of missing out will not just be financial. It will be historical. Liverpool have the chance to build something truly special under Arne Slot. They have the chance to rise again and write new chapters in their incredible story. But to do that, they need to strike at the right time. That time is now. Not tomorrow, not next window. Now.
Because here is the truth: treble dreams do not wait. They are fragile, rare, and demand perfect squads. Miss this signing, and Liverpool risk seeing their rivals lift trophies while they wonder what might have been. Get him now, and Liverpool become a nightmare for Europe. No one will want to face them. Not City. Not Madrid. Not Bayern. Not PSG. Nobody.
I say this not as a Liverpool supporter, but as a football lover who recognizes genius when I see it. What I saw against Andorra was genius. What I saw was a player who could define a generation. He has the intelligence of Xavi, the calmness of Modrić, and the swagger of Zidane. Players like this do not come often. They appear once in a decade. And when they do, you do not hesitate. You do not wait for the perfect deal. You do not calculate and overthink. You move. Because if Liverpool move now, the Premier League tilts. The balance of power shifts. And rivals should be very, very afraid.
This is not hype. This is not a dream. This is reality. And Liverpool must act.
