Who Are the Best Men's Soccer Players of All Time for Liverpool?

As I sit here reflecting on Liverpool Football Club's storied history, that passionate quote from a Filipino fan keeps echoing in my mind: "Kung mailalabas nila yung in-expect ko sa kanila, and makasabay kami, magkaroon kami ng chance — at malaki 'yung chance." Roughly translated, it speaks to the beautiful expectation that when players deliver what we hope for, when they synchronize with our dreams, we genuinely believe we have a chance—and a big one at that. This sentiment perfectly captures what makes discussing Liverpool's greatest players so compelling. We're not just talking about statistics or trophies; we're discussing those special individuals who consistently met and exceeded our wildest expectations, who made us believe anything was possible.

When I think about the players who truly embodied this spirit, Steven Gerrard immediately comes to mind. My goodness, what a player he was. I still get chills remembering that night in Istanbul, when he almost single-handedly dragged Liverpool back from 3-0 down against AC Milan. He scored the first goal, won the penalty for the second, and played with such ferocious determination that you could feel the momentum shift through the television screen. Gerrard made 710 appearances for Liverpool, scoring 186 goals from midfield—an incredible return for someone who wasn't an out-and-out striker. But numbers don't do justice to how he made us feel. Every time he stepped onto that pitch, you knew there was a chance, a real chance, that something magical could happen. He was the living embodiment of that Filipino fan's hope—when Stevie delivered what we expected, our chances felt enormous.

Then there's Kenny Dalglish, the man they call the King. Having watched countless hours of archival footage and spoken to older fans who witnessed his genius firsthand, I've come to appreciate how he revolutionized what it meant to be a Liverpool player. Dalglish scored 172 goals in 515 appearances, but his creative vision and technical ability set him apart. He wasn't just playing football; he was conducting an orchestra. The way he could receive a ball with his back to goal, spin his marker, and pick out a pass that nobody else saw—it was pure artistry. What I admire most about Dalglish, beyond his footballing brilliance, is how he carried himself during the Hillsborough disaster. He attended multiple funerals, comforted grieving families, and became the emotional pillar the club and city needed. That combination of supreme talent and profound humanity makes him, in my view, unquestionably one of Liverpool's greatest.

I must admit I have a particular soft spot for Ian Rush, whose goal-scoring record is simply absurd. 346 goals in 660 appearances across two spells with the club—that's 47 more than any other player in Liverpool's history. His partnership with Dalglish was almost telepathic; they seemed to share a sixth sense about where the other would be. Rush had this incredible knack for being in the right place at the right time, a quality that might seem simple but requires extraordinary football intelligence. I've always been fascinated by strikers who make difficult things look easy, and Rush epitomized that. His five goals in the 1986 FA Cup final against Everton remains one of the most dominant individual performances I've ever seen documented.

Moving to more recent times, I can't overlook Virgil van Dijk's transformative impact. Before his arrival in January 2018 for what was then a world-record £75 million for a defender, Liverpool's defense had been, to put it politely, chaotic. I remember watching his debut against Everton and immediately noticing how his mere presence calmed everyone around him. He didn't just defend; he organized, he communicated, he anticipated danger before it materialized. That 2018-2019 season where Liverpool conceded just 22 goals while van Dijk didn't get dribbled past a single time? That wasn't just good defending—that was defensive perfection. He gave the entire team a foundation of confidence that translated to every area of the pitch. Some might argue defenders don't belong in this conversation, but I firmly believe van Dijk's influence was as significant as any attacker's in recent memory.

Speaking of recent greats, Mohamed Salah's records speak for themselves. 204 goals in 332 appearances as of this writing, including that incredible 44-goal debut season that shattered every expectation. What impresses me most about Salah isn't just his goal-scoring but his evolution as a player. When he first arrived, he was primarily a speed merchant who'd run in behind defenses. Now he's developed into a complete forward who can create, link play, and score every type of goal imaginable. His hat-trick against Manchester United in that 5-0 demolition at Old Trafford was a masterclass in clinical finishing. Salah makes the extraordinary look routine, and that's the mark of a truly great player.

I should also mention the legendary Billy Liddell, whose influence was so profound that the club became known as "Liddellpool" during his peak years. Though I never saw him play, the historical accounts describe a player of immense power and versatility who scored 228 goals in 534 appearances between 1938 and 1960, predominantly as a winger. In an era when Liverpool spent significant time in the Second Division, Liddell remained loyal and carried the team through difficult periods. That kind of loyalty and consistent excellence, regardless of the team's circumstances, deserves immense respect.

Then there's the incomparable Graeme Souness, who I consider the most complete midfielder in Liverpool's history. His combination of technical quality, physical dominance, and leadership was unparalleled. Souness controlled games with an authority that few have matched before or since. His performance in the 1984 European Cup final against Roma, where he dominated midfield in their own stadium before coolly converting his penalty in the shootout, epitomized his big-game mentality.

What strikes me about all these players is how they each embodied different aspects of that Filipino fan's sentiment. Gerrard with his never-say-die attitude, Dalglish with his creative genius, Rush with his ruthless efficiency, van Dijk with his transformative calm, Salah with his record-breaking consistency, Liddell with his loyal service, and Souness with his commanding presence—they all delivered what we expected and more. They made us believe we had a chance, often a big one, in every game they played.

As I reflect on Liverpool's pantheon of greats, I'm reminded that greatness isn't just about statistics or trophies—though these players certainly accumulated plenty of both. It's about that magical connection between expectation and delivery, between hope and reality. The best Liverpool players didn't just play for the club; they became embodiments of its spirit, its history, and its aspirations. They made us believe, against all odds, that we had a chance—and more often than not, they turned that chance into reality. That, to me, is the true measure of a Liverpool great.