Slotball is killing him.” Liverpool fans have torn star to shreds after a truly awful performance against Leeds United.

Anfield has seen many difficult afternoons over the years, but this New Year’s Day stalemate against Leeds United felt especially painful for Liverpool supporters. The scoreboard showed 0-0, yet the frustration inside the stadium told a much louder story. Scarves were raised, voices were loud, but belief was missing. For a club that prides itself on intensity, control, and attacking football, this was another worrying step backward under Arne Slot, and the fans did not hide their anger when the final whistle blew.

Liverpool came into the match knowing exactly what was at stake. A three-match winning run in the Premier League had given hope that momentum was finally building. Confidence, even if fragile, was starting to return. The narrow 2-1 win over Wolves the previous weekend had not been pretty, but it had delivered the most important thing in football: points. Against Leeds United, a team battling near the bottom of the table, most supporters expected improvement. Instead, they got ninety minutes of slow, flat, uninspired football.

From the opening minutes, something felt off. Liverpool had the ball, but not the purpose. They passed sideways, recycled possession endlessly, and struggled to move Leeds out of shape. Leeds, well organised and disciplined, sat deep and waited. They did not need to press aggressively. Liverpool were doing the hard work for them by playing at a pace that suited the visitors perfectly.

Arne Slot stood on the touchline with his hand on his face more than once, a picture that quickly spread across social media. It summed up the mood. Confusion. Frustration. A sense that his ideas were not translating onto the pitch. This was supposed to be a new era, a fresh start after the emotional end of the Jurgen Klopp years. Instead, many fans are starting to worry that Liverpool are losing their identity.

The game drifted. Chances were rare. Anfield grew restless. Every misplaced pass was met with groans. Every failed dribble drew sighs. And when Liverpool did manage to threaten, the execution was poor. Shots were rushed. Crosses were overhit. Movement in the box was predictable. Leeds defended comfortably, growing in confidence with every minute that passed.

By the time the hour mark arrived, it was clear this was not going to be Liverpool’s day. The substitutions came, but they changed very little. The rhythm remained slow. The ideas remained limited. And when the final whistle sounded, it felt like two points had been thrown away rather than one earned.

While many players struggled, one name quickly became the focus of fan anger: Florian Wirtz.

The reaction to Wirtz’s performance was brutal. On social media, Liverpool fans did not hold back. Words like “abysmal,” “horrendous,” “terrible,” and “ghost” flooded timelines within minutes of the match ending. It was a sharp contrast to the praise he had received just weeks earlier.

Wirtz arrived at Liverpool with huge expectations. Young, talented, creative, and already proven at a high level, he was seen as a statement signing. Someone who could carry the torch into a new era. In recent weeks, there had been signs of that promise. Against Tottenham, he looked lively and dangerous. Against Wolves, he scored and showed composure in key moments. Many believed he was starting to settle. But against Leeds, all of that disappeared.

From the first half, Wirtz struggled to impose himself on the game. He found little space between the lines. His touches were heavy. His decision-making was slow. When he did get into shooting positions, his efforts lacked conviction. Four shots told a misleading story. Only one tested the goalkeeper. None truly threatened to change the game.

Perhaps the most worrying aspect was his inability to beat his man. Not a single successful dribble in 66 minutes. For a player whose strength lies in creativity and unpredictability, that statistic hurt. Leeds defenders doubled up on him and he had no answer. Instead of finding clever angles or quick combinations, he often drifted wide, where he became isolated and ineffective.

When Slot substituted him just after the hour mark, the reaction from the stands was mixed. Some applauded politely. Others made their frustration clear. It was not the first time this season Wirtz has been taken off early, and that pattern is starting to raise uncomfortable questions.

The numbers from the match painted a harsh picture. A passing accuracy of 80 percent is not disastrous on its own, but context matters. Many of those passes were safe. Sideways. Backwards. When Liverpool needed risk and invention, Wirtz did not deliver. Creating two chances was a small positive, but it was not enough to outweigh the overall lack of impact. Still, not everyone agreed with the idea of singling him out.

A large section of the fanbase turned their anger toward Arne Slot instead. They argued that Wirtz is being misused, asked to play roles that do not suit his strengths. Playing him wide left against a deep, compact defence was described by some as “scandalous.” Others went further, claiming that Slot’s system is draining confidence from multiple players, not just Wirtz.

One fan summed it up bluntly by saying that all of them were awful, not just one player, and that it cannot be coincidence that so many individuals look worse at the same time. In their eyes, the problem is tactical, not personal.

There were even comparisons made to how Jurgen Klopp might have used Wirtz. Some fans claimed that under Klopp, Wirtz would already be thriving, comparing the situation to Philippe Coutinho’s rise during his Liverpool peak. Whether fair or not, it shows how quickly nostalgia is creeping in, something that rarely bodes well for a new manager.

Slot’s “Slotball,” as some fans sarcastically called it, is coming under increasing scrutiny. The possession-based approach, the slower build-up, the emphasis on control over chaos, all feel alien to supporters who grew used to Klopp’s high-energy, aggressive style. While change always takes time, patience is wearing thin when results do not follow.The bigger picture is what truly worries Liverpool fans.

This draw was not just a bad performance. It was another missed opportunity. Another failure to capitalise when rivals slip. Another reminder that consistency remains a serious issue. Liverpool’s aim this season, realistically, is Champions League qualification. The title feels out of reach. But even that target now looks uncertain.

Dropping points at home to a relegation-threatened side is the kind of result that comes back to haunt teams in May. These are the games you must win if you want to finish in the top four. There are no excuses. Injuries, fatigue, transition, all of that fades when the opposition is there for the taking and you fail to deliver.

For Wirtz, the pressure is only going to increase. Big signings attract big expectations. Fair or not, fans judge them harshly. Inconsistent performances quickly lead to labels that are hard to shake. The word “flop” has already been whispered by some, and that is dangerous territory for a young player still adapting to a new league, a new country, and a new system.

Slot now faces a difficult decision. Does he persist with Wirtz, trusting that form will return? Or does he take him out of the firing line, risking backlash of a different kind? Dropping a high-profile signing can send a message, but it can also damage confidence further. Managing this situation will test Slot’s man-management skills more than any tactical tweak.

The mood around Anfield is uneasy. Supporters want to believe in the project. They want to back the manager. They want to see progress. But football is ruthless. Results matter. Performances matter. And right now, Liverpool are delivering neither consistently enough.

The irony is that this season still has time to be saved. A strong run, a clear identity, and improved performances could quickly change the narrative. Fans are emotional, but they are also loyal when given something to believe in. The problem is that matches like this drain belief rather than build it.

As the calendar turns to 2026, there is hope that this was just a bad day at the office. That lessons will be learned. That players like Wirtz will rediscover their spark. That Slot will adapt, adjust, and grow into the role. But hope alone will not be enough.

Liverpool cannot afford many more afternoons like this. Not if they want to return to Europe’s top table. Not if they want to convince supporters that this new era is moving forward, not backward.

New Year’s Day was meant to be a fresh start. Instead, it felt like a warning.