B🔴

[B🔴 @b1838928]

Any spares for Blackstone on Sunday?

[B🔴 @b1838928]

Spare for today there

[B🔴 @b1838928]

Spare lower main there

[B🔴 @b1838928]

Spare lower main there

[B🔴 @b1838928]

Anything there for tonight?

[B🔴 @b1838928]

Anything there for tonight for me mate?

[B🔴 @b1838928]

Anything there for today? Will box off with future aways

[B🔴 @b1838928]

Any spare palace kops there for me mate?

[B🔴 @b1838928]

Any spare palace kops there for me mate?

[reece @_______reece]

Another European, him again on the missing list, decide to try and walk through the forest by himself and he’s not been seen

[B🔴 @b1838928]

Anything for Sunday? Will box you off in future

[B🔴 @b1838928]

Anything for tomorrow? Mate still needs one

[B🔴 @b1838928]

Still need one for tonight if there’s anything knocking about. Can help out in future

[B🔴 @b1838928]

Anything for tomorrow?

[B🔴 @b1838928]

Stussy Blackstone ticket there

[B🔴 @b1838928]

Any Saturday creams spares?

[B🔴 @b1838928]

Any spares for Newcastle?

[B🔴 @b1838928]

We’re back❤️

[Ed Scott @scotted1906]

Need a couple of spares for a mate on Sunday, please let me know 👍 can help in future #LFCSpares

[Peter Bolster @peter_bolster]

The worst punch in the world is the punch you don’t see.

There are moments in life when the world just stops. When everything that used to matter suddenly feels hollow, and all that’s left is a numb, crushing grief. No words can soften it. No routine can distract you long enough. That’s what we all experienced yesterday as a fanbase. And that’s what was most surprising to me, that everyone felt the same way about someone we had no personal connection to.

But that’s not true, is it? We do have that personal connection. We do know these people as we turn up week in, week out. That’s the strange dynamic we have with these people. Once you’re part of Liverpool FC, you’re part of it forever. We’re all in unity.

The quiet hours are the hardest, the times when you’re left alone with the reality of what’s happened.

All the sadness so many of us feel now is real because football becomes part of your life. We’ll sing ‘he’s a lad from Portugal’ for a hundred years, not because of what happened, but because certain footballers deserve it, and there’s no doubt he does. Only the special ones get songs of that nature—and how Diogo Jota was special.

That’s all we can do, but that will be little comfort for the Jota family.

In a few months, a last-minute winner will go in at Anfield and the Kop will erupt. We’ll be okay. Our lives will go on. But somewhere, there will be a family who might not even have the TV on because the thought of watching football again is too much to bear. That’s the reality, the moments when you remember that it’s not just a footballer who’s gone, but a son, a brother, a father, a person who was loved beyond measure.

And that’s why it’s the person and family I’ll be thinking of this weekend as they lay two beautiful souls to rest.

Grief doesn’t fade in neat stages. It catches you off guard, over and over again, reminding you how unbearably real it all is. That’s now their lived reality. That’s what’s ahead. And all any of us can hope is that, one day, the memories, and the love, respect and remembrance we as Liverpool fans will show over the weeks, months and years ahead, will hopefully be some small measure of comfort, even if the loss itself never feels any smaller.

You’ll never walk alone, Diogo. ❤️✊🏻