Liverpool’s Lost Conductor: Life After Trent Alexander-Arnold

A System Without Its Anchor

Since Trent Alexander-Arnold’s departure in the summer, Liverpool have not simply lost a right-back — they’ve lost the man who made the entire right-sided structure function. Arne Slot has a tactical conundrum, one that goes far beyond defensive solidity or positional rotations. The Englishman’s absence has removed the team’s deep-lying playmaker, the player capable of turning defence into attack in one sweeping motion. Forget the defensive issues, this was a man who was ingrained within a system that controlled games at would often become the instigator of attacks.

For years, Liverpool’s tempo and attacking geometry were dictated by Trent’s cross-field switches, those piercing line-breaking passes, and the ability to release Mohamed Salah into isolated one-v-one situations. His involvement was about far more than creative delivery — it was about progression, balance, and rhythm. Love him or loathe him, it’s impossible not to see how vital he was to the system.

Now, without that orchestral right foot dictating the tempo, the ball moves more slowly, transitions feel laboured, and the opposition has time to assemble their shape. Slot’s Liverpool aren’t short on technical players, but they are short on players who can accelerate play from deep, which is why it was a frustrating decision not to move for Adam Wharton in August.

Arne Slot on Mohamed Salah and Alexander Isak:

“The more they play together the more they will connect.”

“In the second half, we were able to get our attacking players in much more promising positions than the first half.”

“For me, it wasn’t a disconnect or time needed for the… pic.twitter.com/kGYUhHJGHb

— DaveOCKOP (@DaveOCKOP) October 5, 2025

Disconnection Down the Right

What we’ve seen since August is a right flank that no longer flows. Ibrahima Konaté, for all his athletic strength and defensive quality, simply doesn’t connect the dots in the same way. His passing lacks incision, his confidence in the ball isn’t built for orchestration, and it’s showing. It is showing to a point where teams are openly targeting that area to create turnovers.

Conor Bradley, when given minutes, looks tentative and often starved of the early service that Trent used to deliver. Jeremie Frimpong, in his occasional role, operates far higher up and offers dynamism rather than build-up security. The chain of connection between centre-back, full-back, and winger — once a defining Liverpool weapon — has broken and is an ongoing struggle that looks difficult to solve.

It’s telling that Dominik Szoboszlai has arguably looked more comfortable than either specialist right-back when asked to fill that space. The Hungarians’ ability to carry and distribute offers a temporary solution, but it’s also a reflection of the tactical void that remains unfilled. You lose his physicality in midfield when he is switched and it seems like a short-term remedy that has no longevity.

Every hesitant touch, every square pass across the back line, gives opponents time to settle into a low block. And once that block is set, Liverpool’s once-suffocating front three are starved of momentum. The press no longer feels threatening — it feels reactive.

Trent Alexander Arnold was the Most important player in Liverpool after Salah and we lost him . He is irreplaceable #CHELIV

— Steve Jordan 🇨🇲 ⚽ 📸 (@Steve_Labile) October 4, 2025

Slot’s Tactical Dilemma

Arne Slot’s system is built on rhythm, automatisms, and positional control, something which worked wonderfully last term. But for those principles to work, the first and second phases of build-up must function cleanly — and right now, they don’t. The lack of a ball-dominant right-sided defender has become an Achilles’ heel that Premier League teams are exploiting with ease. For years there was a knowing that Trent could be trusted on the ball and that any delivery was possible, now, however, it’s merely a safe square ball into Gravenberch or a retreat to the central defensive lair or goalkeeper.

The question now isn’t simply about adaptation; it’s about identity. Can Slot recreate Liverpool’s progressive spark without the player who symbolised it? Or was the failure to sign a technical, line-breaking right-back in the summer a critical oversight from Michael Edwards and Richard Hughes? I marvelled at the signings and have the confidence that I was not alone. Time has created the knowledge that not all bases were covered and that this summer window is only the start of two or three periods to get the new squad to where it needs to be.

In truth, the answer may be both. Slot is still imposing his methods, still aligning profiles with principles, but time is not a luxury afforded in a title defence. The rhythm that once defined Liverpool’s best is gone, and until a new conductor emerges — either through tactical innovation or January recruitment — the champions will continue to look like a team without a map.