Always feels like the club is more interested in signing 2-3 players for £10m each who might make it, than 1 player for £30m who is a top player
It's not even a question of big money transfers for me.
It's about buying players that fit a system.
Why buy a keeper who is not comfortable with the ball at his feet and doesn't communicate with his defenders for a manager who wants to play from the back?
Why buy a striker in Aspas who is nowhere near physical enough for this league, or like Alberto who is nowhere near fast enough for this league?
Why buy the slowest player and an immobile striker we've signed this century to replace the most hyperactive sportsman in the world, who spearheaded an attack all based on speed, pressing and infinite mobility?
Why scout Luis Suarez for 3 years, buy him to pair him up with Fernando Torres (a striker who plays off the shoulder, is mobile and can drift to the wings) then replace Torres with a player who is his antithesis in every single fucking way?
Why buy a player with never ending injury problems to come play in the most physical league in the world and replace the brains of your midfield, that makes everything tick?
Why replace a terrier in Javier Mascherano, a pacey defensive midfielder who would hunt down players anywhere on the pitch with the 2nd slowest player we've had this century?
Manager after manager, owners after owners, scouts after scouts.... They buy players that do not fit the system, players that make absolutely no sense.
Every transfer has risks, every clubs make bad signings. I can live with that. If Lallana or Markovic fail, then so be it. They're both players which make sense, they fit the system.
What I can't accept is this constant ability Liverpool Football Club have of buying players that make absolutely fuck all sense for the way you play. I don't think there's any other club in the world that do this on a constant basis.
"I am the most expensive player they've ever bought, but they want me to change the way I play completely. What was the point of buying me then?" Stan Collymore, 4-4-2 magazine 1995.
19 years on, and we're still at it. It is absolutely bewildering.