It had been a tough week for Liverpool manager Arne Slot. The pressure was mounting following a crushing defeat to Tottenham, and much of the blame was being placed squarely on one player—Maximilian “Max” Rieder.
Once hailed as a rising star and the future of the club, Max’s recent performances had been abysmal. A series of costly mistakes, poor decisions, and lack of effort had jeopardized Liverpool’s chances in their title race.
Sitting in his office, surrounded by the echoes of Liverpool’s storied history, Arne stared at the tactical board in front of him.
The door creaked open, and Max entered, his face a mixture of determination and unease. He knew this was going to be a difficult conversation.
“Sit down, Max,” Arne said without looking up.
Max obeyed, trying to steady his nerves. His usual confidence had been eroded by weeks of poor form, and now he felt like he was walking a tightrope.
After a moment of tense silence, Arne turned to face him, his expression cold and filled with disappointment. “After your performance against Tottenham,” he began, his tone measured but cutting, “do you honestly think I can trust you in another critical match? My reputation is on the line at Liverpool, and I can’t allow one player to undo everything I’ve worked to build here.”
Max’s stomach dropped. He had known his mistakes were costly, but hearing it directly from Arne felt like a crushing blow. This wasn’t just about a bad game—it was about his entire future at the club, the future he had dreamed of and worked so hard to achieve.
“You were out there, Max,” Arne continued, pacing now. “But instead of playing with the heart and intelligence this team is known for, you became a liability.
I’ve given you plenty of chances, but against Tottenham, you let us down. I can’t let that happen again, especially with so much at stake.”
Max wanted to respond, to apologize and explain how hard he was trying to get back to form, but the words caught in his throat.
He knew Arne wasn’t interested in excuses. The manager had seen his potential, but the growing cracks in his performances had become impossible to ignore.
Leaning forward, Arne’s gaze intensified. “This isn’t about you, Max. It’s about the team and the legacy of this club. If you can’t focus and deliver, you’ll have to find somewhere else to do it.”
Max swallowed hard, the gravity of the situation sinking in. He knew his time at Liverpool could end just as quickly as it had begun. He had been given opportunities most players could only dream of, but now, he stood on the brink of losing it all.
“I’ll fix this,” Max said at last, his voice quiet but determined. “I promise. I’ll work harder, and I’ll make things right.”
Arne nodded, though his expression remained firm. “I hope you do, Max. But until you prove it on the pitch, I can’t afford any more risks. Remember—you’re not irreplaceable.”
Max left the office, Arne’s words echoing in his mind. As he walked toward the locker room, he wondered if he could regain the trust he had lost. Would he find a way back into the team? Or had his mistakes cost him everything he had worked for at Liverpool?
