Watch closely when a football club smells blood in the water. The circling sharks never bite the loudest, most obvious targets. They go for the silent ones. The ones who won't splash. Last weekend, Liverpool reminded us brutally of this truth.

By dropping Mohamed Salah completely against West Ham, not even granting him the dignity of late minutes in a match screaming for his particular genius, manager Arne Slot didn't just make a tactical choice. That's the lie being fed to supporters.

This was a public execution of player reputation. A message sent in Morse code by clipboard. The message being Salah's fault for being too consistent, too reliable, too... available. For being so often the lone bright spot in dark times that he became an inconvenient contrast to systemic failures.

Consider the breath taking hypocrisy. Liverpool has lost nine of twelve matches. Yet their solution was to bench the one player who maintained excellence through this collapse. Salah has twelve goals in fifteen league matches this season. The entire midfield combined has eight.

The numbers don't lie. The scapegoating does.

Here's the first hypocrisy exposed. Clubs love their superstars when they rescue points with late winners. When they fill trophy cabinets and social media feeds with highlights. But when the collective system implodes, it's always the star's burden to bear the responsibility, never the factory owners who built the faulty machinery.

Slot praised Salah's professionalism while simultaneously undermining him. A curious definition of professionalism. Is a plumber professional when you refuse him entry to fix your burst pipes? Is a surgeon professional when you hand him a plastic knife? Salah has been the scalpel in Liverpool's operating theatre for seven years. Suddenly he's handed a butter knife and blamed for not performing surgery.

Then comes the sneering agenda the media won't address. Watch how AFCON suddenly becomes a convenient excuse. Liverpool announced Salah would leave for the tournament earlier than required. Why? Not because Egypt demands it, but because Liverpool need him physically broken and emotionally frayed upon return.

African tournaments always get this treatment. European managers act like AFCON is some rogue competition stealing their property. UEFA would never tolerate this attitude toward the Euros. Imagine Pep Guardiola complaining Spain called up Rodri for mandatory international duty during the European Championships. He'd be laughed out of football.

But when Egypt calls Salah for a tournament Africa fought decades to have recognized as equal to its European equivalent, suddenly it's an inconvenience. A burden. Proof African players can't be fully trusted with European priorities.

Which brings us to hypocrisy number two. Football can't stop virtue signaling about diversity. Black squares on Instagram. Courageous slogans on captain's armbands. Grand speeches about inclusion. Then, the moment African or Middle Eastern commitments arise, the mask slips. These tournaments become nuisances. These players become problems.

Salah isn't some academy kid Liverpool molded. He arrived fully formed, a flawless gem mined from Basel, polished at Chelsea, refined at Roma. His excellence is entirely his own. Yet the moment he needs to serve his country, Liverpool now imply his absence might cost them their season.

Brilliant gaslighting. Their poor planning becomes his patriotic burden.

Then we have the human toll nobody discusses. Salah's age. His legacy. His twilight years being treated like a rented mule by a club that knows his prime is expiring. When Zlatan Ibrahimovic entered his mid 30s, he was celebrated for his longevity. When Cristiano Ronaldo hit this stage, he became a living monument soccer tourism. Yet Salah, an African Muslim in a league still quietly uncomfortable with both identities, gets benched amidst whispers that maybe he's finally slowing down.

Never mind that he's statistically still among the top five attackers on earth in productivity per minute. Never mind his ability to singlehandedly win unwinnable games hasn't diminished. Liverpool smell the end coming, so they're trying to get ahead of the narrative. Create the impression his inevitable decline has already begun. Control the messaging before fans realize they're watching a club legend's slow walk into the sunset.

Here's your third hypocrisy. The abuse of player loyalty. Salah stayed through lean years when he could have demanded moves to Madrid or Paris. He championed the club's Muslim community outreach, visiting mosques, funding hospitals in Cairo, bridging cultural divides in ways no British born player ever has. This is how Liverpool repay that loyalty. By making him a fall guy.

Meanwhile, young Muslim players everywhere are watching. They see how quickly appreciation turns to ruthlessness. No player is safe when numbers dip. Even statues like Salah can become expendable overnight. The message echoes. Perform or perish. Lead every metric every match or find yourself publicly benched as punishment for collective failure.

The tragedy becomes these decisions never truly solve problems. Liverpool's injuries, tactical naivety against counter attacks, shaky defending will still be there when Salah leaves for Africa. They have zero replacement ready for his output because nobody can replace that output. Not at any price they're willing to pay.

So this becomes spectacle without substance. Theatre for fans seeking sacrificial lambs while the real wolves franchise mismanagement, poor investments, distracted ownership continue circling undisturbed.

A bitter pill to swallow. But football's hypocrisy extends beyond money and trophies. It bleeds into broken promises. Commercial tours that exhaust players in Miami or Melbourne, clashes dismissed as 'necessary for global branding.' But actual football commitments to real tournaments that matter to entire continents. Those become inconvenient. Those become scheduling conflicts to be minimized.

Salah will go to AFCON. He will carry Egypt's hopes. He will be expected to dominate as Salah always does. It will exhaust him, because leading both a club and country always does. Then he'll return to Liverpool in February broken, and the same people who demanded his benching will wonder why he can't immediately recapture form.

Nobody will address this cycle. Nobody will question why AFCON matches can't be scheduled with more European sympathy. But then, why should Africa accommodate? This isn't charity. It's World Cup qualification. The path to international legitimacy.

Besides, when has UEFA ever adjusted its calendar for African or Asian schedules? Thought not. Football's colonial attitude dies hard.

Salah's quiet dignity through this manufactured storm speaks volumes. He didn't slam doors. Didn't leak grievances through media pals. He simply trained. A choice some pundits will brand as weakness. They would prefer drama fits their talking points.

But his silence isn't weakness. It's contempt. For the narratives. The hypocrisy. The short memories that forget who delivered victories when others were hiding.

A footballer's career is short. Legacy long. In ten years, Salah won't remember West Ham on a rainy December night. He'll recall Champions League glories. Golden Boots lifted under Anfield lights. Echoes roared by thousands who understood his worth.

Liverpool's hierarchy may have forgotten that worth. But the fans haven't. The community he's served hasn't. That's football's eternal joke on arrogant boards and panicking managers. Supporters always know the real kings.

So bench Salah today if you wish. Try humiliating elite competitors when they've given no justification. But understand, legends write history. Temporary managers who can't fix systemic collapses rarely do.