It’s a weird sensation, feeling loss and grief over someone you never actually met, and yet the feeling isn’t lessened by the fact you only saw them running about a pitch.
Sometimes in real life, mainly on TV, but when you take in the fact you’ve spent nine months of each of the last five years watching someone in a shirt you wear every time you watch him… You realise what a big part these strangers play in your life.
And this isn’t to say that I am feeling something no one else is, of course not.
His new wife, their children, his and her families, his teammates, club colleagues, friends and international colleagues will all be feeling the loss of Diogo Jota.
But fans also have an emotional connection here, and I guess I’m just kind of processing this in real time as I type to you, my reader.
Good morning, by the way, hope you’re well.
When the news broke that Liverpool’s 28-year-old Portuguese forward had died in a car crash, it seemed almost surreal.
A friend sent me a link to a proper newspaper to be fair, even if it was one we lefties never read or trust, but the news had yet to break properly.
It must be a mistake…
But the other outlets started picking up the news.
Proper sources you could trust, that you knew had definitely checked their facts first, not afterwards.
And then it hits you.
This man, who has been in my life since signing for us in 2020, prone to injuries but a guy who knew how to score a goal, a man who had made me cheer lots every season, was gone.
Never to pull on that number 20 shirt for us again.
The world just felt slightly emptier.
Which, to non-football fans, or those who have never formed emotional connections to musicians, say, or actors, probably seems silly.
But here, now, there’s an emptiness.
A sadness.
A loss.
He scored the first goal of our title-winning season.
Also happened to be the first goal Ipswich conceded upon their return to the top flight.
But I imagine even Town fans know a little of what I’m feeling as I sit here hammering at my keyboard.
Death has a way of uniting all fans across all divides.
I remember that goal for a number of reasons.
Not just because I could imagine, in that moment, how my Blue friends were feeling, but also because of the huge sense of relief we felt.
New manager, no new signings (well, OK, one, but history was to show he wasn’t going to make much of an impact sadly), a newly promoted club, at their ground, on the opening day… opening game in fact, I seem to recall.
Then, on the hour, up pops the little Portuguese wizard to settle the nerves, shatter some hearts, and set us up for what was to come.
And how we all cheered.
Steve Hunter, the club website’s official matchday commentator, called him Jota The Slotter, given the guy’s ability to find the back of the net when missing seemed easier.
I’ve lost count of the number of times that came screaming out of my speakers.
I’ll miss that too.
I think, as well, there’s the fact that this has happened at a time when football isn’t happening, if that makes sense.
Yes, there’s the World Club Cash Grab going on in America, but for most of us, this is our rest period, when transfer speculation buzzes in the background and all we have to think about is when the season review DVD is coming out and the new shirt is being launched.
This is one hell of a dose of reality to drop into that tranquil pond.
And don’t get me started on Sky Sports News trying to deal with something this important.
They try, bless ‘em, but voices used to flippantly discussing VAR rulings and transfer fees are not best used for something needing weight and gravitas.
The one positive in all this is the reminder that, if you are a football fan, you are part of a global family, one that comes together in times of tragedy, to remember the good times, to pay moving tributes, to share stories.
We may never again see him pretending to play his PS5 after scoring, or telling jeering opposition fans where to go, but we did see these things, and they will stay with us forever.
Hopefully, this will be of some comfort to his loved ones as they come to terms with their tragic loss.
Goodbye Jota The Slotter, as Sir Elton might say, though I never knew you at all….