There is romance in persistence, but folly in ignoring the evidence. Darwin Nunez came to Liverpool as a chaos merchant, a whirlwind of limbs and energy, a forward whose rawness was part of the appeal. For a time, it felt like unpredictability might become unpredictably brilliant. But unpredictability without control is just waste, and the fun has drained from the experiment.
The goals never flowed with any consistency, the decision-making rarely improved, and by the end, he looked more burdened than buoyant. Not even Anfield’s defiant optimism could disguise it. The trust eroded, quietly at first, then fatally, as team sheets omitted his name and talk of a £10m Benfica appearance clause materialised.
Now he wants Napoli, and Napoli want him. It is a fitting escape. He belongs to that footballing theatre, to a touchline prowled by Conte, to a city that will embrace his madness as passion. Let him run riot under Vesuvius, where chaos is not just tolerated, but celebrated.
Liverpool, though, must be colder. This team is evolving, shedding sentiment and sharpening its edge. Hanging on to Nunez would be an act of hope disguised as belief. A clean break suits all parties.
There is no shame in it. Not every dream survives reality. Let him go.