Andoni Iraola might not be one for obsessing over statistics, but there is one figure from this calendar year that cuts right through any philosophical arguments about metrics. Liverpool have won just four of their 12 home Premier League matches in 2026. Four. At Anfield. The stadium that was, not so long ago, considered among the most intimidating venues in European football.

Saturday's turgid draw with Fulham was the latest entry in that sorry ledger. The Reds were flat, creativity was almost entirely absent, and the attacking threat never really materialised in any meaningful way. Fulham, to their credit, were no bus-parkers either, which makes Liverpool's inability to manufacture clear-cut chances all the more concerning. When even willing opponents cannot drag a performance out of you on your own pitch, you have a genuine problem.

The empty seats before the final whistle on Saturday said everything. Supporters were filtering towards the exits with four minutes of added time still to play, having long given up on a late winner arriving. It carried echoes of an altogether different era, the early weeks of Jurgen Klopp's tenure, when he famously said he had never felt so alone in a stadium as fans streamed out during one of his first home matches in charge. The difference now is that no one is storming the Kop in jubilation to rebuild that connection.

The Champions League atmosphere three days earlier, when Liverpool came from behind to beat Atletico Madrid, offered a brief reminder that the positive force of Anfield has not entirely disappeared. But the crowd that turns out for European nights under the lights is a different beast to the season-ticket holders who fill those seats week in, week out in the Premier League. Those are the supporters who have seen everything, who are the hardest to move, and who have quietly stopped giving the benefit of the doubt. The grumbles started early on Saturday, adding yet another layer of weight onto the shoulders of players who are already struggling to impose themselves.

Last season, Alexis Mac Allister, Cody Gakpo and Arne Slot himself bore the brunt of supporter frustration. This time around, the ire is moving in different directions within the squad. The source material pointedly notes that Gakpo has managed to reverse his fortunes this season, proof that it can be done, but it also notes that he had previously demonstrated his value to Liverpool's cause before the criticism mounted. Not every player who started against Fulham can say the same.

Iraola is only four Premier League matches into his reign and it would be deeply unfair to draw sweeping conclusions from so small a sample. There will likely be more uncomfortable afternoons before things improve. But the reality facing him is straightforward: the only currency that matters with this Anfield crowd right now is winning. Not promising football, not encouraging signs, not post-match rhetoric about processes. Wins. Home wins specifically.

The relationship between a squad and its supporters is never truly broken by one poor run, it is built or destroyed slowly, through moments that accumulate into something bigger. Klopp understood that instinctively, and he found his way to it even in the difficult early months. The task for Iraola is to find his own version of that, and to find it before the goodwill that remains runs completely dry.

Anfield has not forgotten how to roar. It simply needs something worth roaring about, and the next home fixture feels like it matters more than it perhaps should at this point in the season.