After Alexander Isak had lost Virgil van Dijk and half-volleyed Newcastle United towards a first domestic trophy in 70 years, Mohamed Salah put his hand on his hips and trudged silently back upfield.
To a man, his team-mates did the same. Even Van Dijk, even the skipper, was unable to raise a shout of defiance or conjure up a gesture of encouragement.
It was an empty response in a largely empty performance – a performance devoid of all the things that have turned the Premier League title race into a Liverpool lap of honour. Dynamism, determination, imagination, intelligence, physicality, fight.
Yes, if you had told Arne Slot how his first season as Liverpool manager would pan out, he would have signed for it. In a heartbeat, probably. But he would not have signed for a display as limp as this in a Wembley final.
For a while now, celebrating a tackle, or a block, has been a thing. And we are talking full-blown, fist-pumping celebrations.
Joelinton, an outstanding performer, was at it midway through the first half after tracking back for a good few yards and dispossessing Jarell Quansah. Considering it was a relatively routine piece of work, his primal scream was a bit much but Joelinton’s roar was a loud symbol of the difference between these two sides.
In the 52 minutes it took for Newcastle to take a two-goal lead – the opener a thumping header from Dan Burn late in the first half – they were so much more intense, so much more committed, so much more aggressive, it was startling. Quite simply, the Premier League champions-elect were, up until the final throes of the match, a passive shambles of a side.
Clearly, there was a physical issue in play, that extra-time against a supremely fit Paris St Germain taking an obvious toll.
Newcastle’s midfield made Liverpool’s midfield look ponderous. And there must surely have been psychological factors involved, the dramatic nature of their Champions League exit creating an inevitable sense of deflation.
Plus, with the Premier League title as good as sealed, perhaps one or two, subconsciously, feel their hard work is done. And to a certain extent, of course, it is.
The pain of this loss was immediate but there can be no diluting Liverpool’s Premier League achievement. And when the season is over, they will be able to reflect on it with pride. But you have to wonder if there will be any ramifications from this one day.
It did not help Salah’s Ballon d’Or cause, that is for sure. These last few days have not helped Salah’s Ballon d’Or cause. In fact, it is probably not even a thing any more.
It would be too easy – and unfair – to highlight Salah’s lack of impact in this final because he was just one of a bad bunch. But it was a nudge to those pundits who say Liverpool should give Salah whatever he is asking for. It was a reminder that he turns 33 in three months’ time.
It was an explanation of why Anfield executives cannot just produce a blank cheque, an explanation of why the analytics people will be giving them warning figures. And although Federico Chiesa’s late strike produced a tense finale, Salah himself might look at this team performance – as might the absent Trent Alexander-Arnold – and wonder if a new challenge is the way to go.
Again, Salah was not alone in under-performing and one game should not scar his stellar season. But no-one is indispensable to a club like Liverpool … and this painful defeat proved that.
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