Liverpool are Premier League champions. The trophy confirmed it on June 25 when Chelsea did them the favour of beating Manchester City. The formality complete, Klopp’s side collected their prize at an empty Anfield, in front of nobody, in a season nobody will fully be able to explain. Congratulations are, presumably, in order.
The records deserve acknowledgement. Ninety-nine points. Thirty-two wins. A 25-point lead at one stage, the largest in English top-flight history. Forty-four league games unbeaten before Watford ended the dream on a February afternoon that briefly made the whole exercise feel human. The numbers are, objectively, historic.
And yet.
The Competition Was Barely There
Manchester City, the team that won 100 points two seasons ago and 98 the season before that, finished eighteen points behind Liverpool. Eighteen. Pep Guardiola’s side — the most dominant domestic force English football has seen in a generation — were not so much defeated as misplaced. Key players injured, others distracted by European ambitions, the defending champions collectively decided that retaining the title was, perhaps, not the priority it once was.
Faced with a City side operating at something approaching half-capacity, Klopp’s men romped to the finish line and broke records that City themselves had set. One might question what those records actually mean when the team you are breaking them against has essentially opted out. The rest of the league, meanwhile, was busy with other matters. Leicester finished fifth. Manchester United were third. Chelsea fourth. Arsenal eighth. Nobody, it seems, received the memo that this was supposed to be a competitive season.
The Trophy Arrived By Appointment
Liverpool were confirmed champions with seven games remaining, a record. They celebrated in an empty stadium, lifting silverware in front of cardboard cutouts of supporters who were not permitted to attend. The ceremony was for no one.
The season itself was interrupted for nearly three months by a global pandemic, restarted under protocols involving water breaks, biosecure bubbles and twice-weekly testing for a virus that had shut down the planet. Football resumed in June — a month when no English top-flight champion had ever previously been confirmed — and Liverpool duly collected their prize in conditions bearing no resemblance to any title race that preceded it. Nobody is diminishing the achievement. It simply diminishes itself.
Watford
On February 29, 2020, Watford beat Liverpool 3-0 at Vicarage Road. This ended a 44-game unbeaten run and was, at the time, considered a notable upset. Watford were subsequently relegated. The team that ended Liverpool’s historic unbeaten run finished the season in eighteenth place and went down.
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The Verdict
Liverpool are the worst Premier League champions in history. The ninety-nine points are real. The thirty-two wins happened. The records exist in the books and will remain there permanently. History is, after all, history.
It is simply that history has rarely been made in quite such peculiar, compromised and convenient circumstances. The league table does not lie. The context, however, tells a rather more complicated story — one that future generations will read with a raised eyebrow and, perhaps, a knowing smile.
Quietly, from an empty stadium, to nobody in particular.
