To the very end, Jürgen Klopp’s sense of theatre never left him. The little pregnant pause at the start of the video where he announces his departure, when everyone knows what’s coming but still wants to hear him say it out of his own mouth. The way his voice cracks and breaks. The way he stares straight down the camera, so you can’t look away. And of course the immaculate timing, the disorienting flourish, a sense of pure shock that will reverberate through the last four months of this season. One last mind game. One last competitive edge. For Klopp the business and the pleasure of football were always symbiotically linked, one in the service of the other.
This was the talent, and these were the convictions, that could hold a dressing room, an auditorium or a stadium in the palm of his hand. In a foreign country, and in his second language, he forged lasting connections in this most entropic and acrimonious of sports. He changed the way people thought of one of England’s most maligned cities. To this day Christian Benteke – a striker whom Klopp never remotely rated, played as little as possible and sold to Crystal Palace at the first opportunity – describes Klopp as “the best manager I ever worked with”. This too is talent, and it also tells you pretty much everything you need to know about Jürgen Klopp.
