The joy of watching Diogo Jota

We watch football because it makes us feel things.

Happiness, yes. Tension, far too often. Delirium, not often enough. Sadness, of course; the highs aren’t highs without lows to balance them out.

And now, grief. Diogo Jota and his brother died in a a car crash yesterday. He was just 28.

Jota arrived at Liverpool in September 2020, and, I have to admit, he wasn’t a signing I was especially overjoyed with.

Months before, it seemed certain that Liverpool would move for Timo Werner. Werner was on a run of blistering form and seemed to be a perfect fit for Klopp’s system. But, amid the financial uncertainty from Covid lockdowns, Liverpool decided it couldn’t afford a move for Werner. We didn’t know then that Werner would end up being a bust; at the time I was shocked and saddened. We moved for Jota instead. He felt like a cut-rate consolation: a decent player, sure, but not the prize we were promised.

It didn’t help that he was coming in to a team that didn’t have a place for him. The trio of Mohamed Salah, Sadio Mané and Roberto Firmino were at the peak of their powers: Salah and Mané had just shared the Premier League Golden Boot, and two seasons earlier, the trio scored 10 goals each in a single Champions League campaign. The idea of any player breaking up this attack, competing with them for spots, seemed insane — let alone a guy we signed on the cheap from Wolves. You really telling me Jota’s going to be able to compete with them?

Then he went and scored on his Premier League debut for us against Arsenal. Ah, okay, that’s why we signed him. He’ll fit right in.

He went on scoring. He scored tap-ins and headers. He scored against Arsenal, again and again and again. He could place it past the keeper or smash it. Open goal, tight angle, it didn’t matter: he’d score.

Jota’s last two goals for Liverpool were so typical of him. One was a header from a corner to secure a point away to Nottingham Forest. Jota was by no means a tall player, but he was exceptional in the air. Whenever the ball flew into the box, he'd find a way to spring above taller players and use his exceptional technique to direct the ball into the corner.

His final goal was the winner in the Merseyside Derby and it showcased so many of his talents. First, he worked hard to pressure an Everton defender into giving the ball away. He took the pass under control, kept the ball close and slalomed past a couple of defenders. Then, he gave the keeper a look to send him the wrong way before Jota slammed the ball into the other side of the net.

It’s that coolness, that ability to keep his head that marked Jota out. He was arguably the most natural finisher Liverpool had seen since Robbie Fowler. And a lot of that came down to Jota being the one guy who kept his head in the most frantic of situations.

My favorite Jota goal came in April 2023. Liverpool flew out of the traps to lead Tottenham 3-0 after just 15 minutes. It’s over, right?

Spurs get a goal back. Eh, just a consolation.

Spurs score again. 3-2 isn’t good, but we can manage this.

Spurs score AGAIN. It’s 3-3. We’ve thrown away a seemingly unassailable lead. There are just seconds to go and we’re going to draw. At home. With Tottenham.

And then, in those few remaining seconds, Spurs make a mistake. Jota is through on goal.

If it’s anyone else — even Salah — I’d be clenching nervously. But it’s not. It’s Jota. He takes a touch, sending us into that glorious twilight zone of anticipation where time seems to stand still. It’s only a couple of seconds, but it feels so much longer. The defender can’t reach him. It’s all on Jota, everyone in the stadium and around the world watching him and waiting. The angle’s tight, possibly too tight. Doubt creeps in: has he waited too long to shoot? No, he was waiting for the keeper to commit. Jota casually slots it past him with ease. Liverpool win 4-3.

From early elation, to a growing sense of dread, to facing humiliation... to an unreal, giddy high, all in a couple of hours.

We love football because it makes us feel things.

Diogo Jota made us feel things. You’ll Never Walk Alone, Diogo.