In idly scrolling the sleepless news cycle of social media, you are occasionally confronted by a headline that stops you in your tracks, a collection of words that seem so unthinkable that they surely cannot be correct. _Liverpool's Diogo Jota, killed in a car crash, only 28._ Then you see the tentative caveat of 'reports claim', and you wonder for a minute if there's been some sort of morbid mistake.
In those moments you even vainly hope for it to be the work of the lowest of social media's hoaxers, but the headlines continue to flood through, and you realise there's been an incomprehensible tragedy, that a family's world has been turned upside down.
The vast majority of us knew Diogo Jota only as the Liverpool and Portugal footballer, because that's all we ever saw him be. But then come the details of his life beyond what was captured by the Sky Sports cameras.
I don't really buy into the 'you forget that they're human' narrative that can follow high-profile footballers. Most of us are well aware that they're not machines, we just don't see much of who they are away from the pitch.
I'd argue that it's not so much people see them as robots, but as superheroes. They possess gifts that allow them to live lives that are otherworldly to you and I, and it makes them seem invincible. Until days like Thursday remind you that we are all just mere mortals.
When you first lay eyes on those photos of Jota, his wife Rute Cardoso, and their children celebrating their marriage — just 12 days ago — it becomes impossible to see him as anything but a husband and father. It is profoundly sad that images captured amid the purest joy now serve to emphasise - if it were even needed - the tragedy of his death. Jota had shared a further snippet of the wedding video on his Instagram account captioned 'A day we will never forget', just hours before his life ended.
What his family must now be attempting to come to terms with is difficult to fathom. The details of the accident are harrowing, the culmination of several twists of fate. In normal circumstances, Jota and Andre would not have been on that road in the first place.
Jota, due back for pre-season but having recently undergone a surgery, was advised not to fly to the UK. Instead he and Andre planned a long drive across Spain - where they'd spent the final days of a post-season holiday - to board a ferry to England.
Early reports suggest the Lamborghini they were in suffered a sudden tyre blowout, sending the car off the road before it burst into flames. Those of you unfortunate enough to have been subjected to images of the wreckage, depressingly shared by some national news outlets, will have seen the brutality of it.
Generally, though, there has been much care taken to emphasise the human tragedy of this incident, because it's not really a football story at all. In the end, though, it's for football that Jota will be fondly remembered by many.
Diogo José Teixeira da Silva was born in Porto on December 4, 1996. He played for his local team, Gondomar, until he was 17, before starting his professional career at Pacos de Ferreira. A pacey, nimble, intelligent forward, he was initially overlooked by other clubs due to his size. The perception has long carried that those who make it in spite of their diminutive stature have something extra special about them, and Jota's rise from the streets of Porto to starring for Liverpool confirms it still has merit.
Before Anfield, he moved from Pacos to Atletico Madrid, but never played for the La Liga giants' first team. A successful loan spell back in his homeland with Porto then drew attention from England. He signed for Wolverhampton Wanderers, initially on another loan in 2016, and the deal was made permanent a year later as Jota helped them win promotion back to the Premier League.
Scoring 44 goals in 131 appearances for Wolves put him on Liverpool's radar, and in 2020 they paid £41m for him. Amongst a galaxy of high profile stars on Merseyside, his versatility was an asset, allowing him to feature anywhere across the forward line. Playing under Jurgen Klopp and latterly Arne Slot, Jota won a Premier League title, an FA Cup, and two League Cups with the Reds.
His last ever goal was a dramatic winner in April's Merseyside derby against Everton, one that kept Liverpool on track to become Premier League champions.
Liverpool are a club sadly not unaccustomed to tragedy, and this could be their most difficult moment since the Hillsborough disaster of 1989 that claimed 97 lives. Jota's death comes mere weeks after a car was driven into a crowd at the club's Premier League title parade. More than 100 people were injured and a man was later charged with several offences.
This was supposed to be the summer when players, staff, and supporters could fully and freely absorb a Premier League title success not inhibited by the Covid-19 restrictions that hung over their 2019/20 win. The celebratory mood has given way to a period of grief and mourning that will last for a long time to come.
"What can anyone say at a time like this when the shock and the pain is so incredibly raw?" asked Slot, the Liverpool manager, in a statement released on Thursday. "I wish I had the words, but I know I do not."
And that, really, is the crux of it. There is no turn of phrase that can truly describe such events, the gravity of its awfulness and the implications for a young family that has been so cruelly torn apart.
In time, perhaps it's best to simply let Jota's legacy, as a committed family man and exceptional footballer, speak for itself.