After suffering a heart attack two weeks ago, my beautiful Mum passed away in the early hours of this morning  I am absolutely broken hearted, hasn't sunk in yet, still feel like it's all a bit of a blur, she was the one who got me into being a red so I owe everything to her.

Much love Mum and you can now be with my Dad and my Sis 

You Will Never Walk Alone which will be played at her funeral.

From Mourning Klopp, To Morning Slott

As the doors of Liverpool Football School close on the career of Mr Klopp, and his staff, they open for a new teacher, Mr Arne Slot. However not all students are ready to forget their favourite teacher.

Jones: "Ah lad, d'ya see Kloppo on the telly last night in the Madrid Dortmund game?"

Elliott: "Yes son. Made me cry it did."

Alexander-Arnold: "An' when 'e started singin'. f***in' 'ell la. I was gone."

Quansah: "Me too lad."

Jones: "Yeah but you're a wool lad so who cares?"

At that moment, Mr Slot walks in.

Slot:"Right, right, right lads. Let's settle down. Before we take the register, I'd just like to introduce myself to all of you. My name is Mr Slot. Got that? Mr Slot. Not slut just because I'm Dutch. Not slit for the same reason. Nor is it Rembrandt, Vincent, Johannes or Frans. Do you understand?"

Danns: "Yeah got that Pot Shot."

Mr Slot smirks and walks up to Jayden Danns, who himself is chuckling. Mr Slot then proceeds to slap Danns round the back of the head.

Slot: "Anybody else want to make fun of my name?"

The class all look at Danns, rolling round on the floor clutching his head and agree in unison that Mr Slot is not somebody to mee with.

Slot: "Right then, we can carry on with the register now. Number one, Becker?"

No answer.

Slot: "Come on, Alisson, don't be shy. If you're here just let me know."

Alexander-Arnold: "Excuse me Sir, but it's not shyness with Ali. It's just he's probably preoccupied with God right now. He'll be here when God tells him it's the right time to be here."

Slot: "And you are?"

Alexander-Arnold: "Trent Alexander-Arnold at your service Sir."

Slot: "Well Trent Alexander-Arnold at your service Sir, I thank you for your input but it would be better if you actually waited until it was called for in the future. If you did, things like this wouldn't happen."

Slot slaps Trent round the back of the head and just like Danns, he too falls to the floor clutching his head.

Slot: "So Alisson is not here. Next, Joe Van Gomez?"

Jones: "Van Gomez? You f***in' messin' or what Joe lad? I mean we all know you think you're Virg but changin' your f***in' name to Van Gomez. What a tit."

Slot: "Are you Van Gomez?"

Jones: "Me? No lad. I'm Curtis Jones."

Elliott: "Duck Jonesy."

But before Jones had processed what Elliott said, he was already rolling on the floor with a sore head after a Mr Slot slap.

Slot: "So, Joe Van Gomez are you here?"

Gomez: "I am."

Slot: "Good. Wataru Endo...oh wait I know he's here, he asked me for a selfie with him outside. Next on the list, Virgil Van Dijk. Are you here Virgil?"

Gomez: "He is."

Slot: "Good. Next is Ibrahima Konate. Ibrahima?"

Konate: "Ock oui de noo."

Slot: "Oh yes, you're the rather strange Frenchman who has a fetish for the Scottish accent because you can't understand a word of it aren't you?"

Konate: "Oui aye oui."

Slot: "Six... oh we don't have a six. Seven, Luis Diaz...oh he's here alright. Me and him shared some "stories" outside. And let me tell you he's one hundred percent Colombian. Eight is Dominik S...S...S...Dominik Smith?"

Szoboszlai: "It's Szoboszlai, Sir."

Slot: "It's what?"

Szoboszlai: "Szoboszlai."

Slot: "What's that? Some sort of local delicacy?

Szoboszlai: "No that's how you pronounce my name."

Slot: "What are you talking about?"

Szoboszlai: "It's Szo."

Slot: "Sir?" Yes I'm Sir."

Szoboszlai: "Not sir, Szo."

Slot: "I am Sir."

Elliott: "Duck Dom."

Szoboszlai: "No Sir, you are Sir yes. But my name is Szo."

Slot: "Sir..."

Szoboszlai: "F**k it that's close enough. Then bosz."

Slot: "Boz?"

Szoboszlai: "Lai."

Slot: "Lie?"

Szoboszlai: "So if you put it together you get Szoboszlai."

Slot: "So I take it Dominik Smith is here?"

Szoboszlai: "I suppose so."

Slot: "Good. Nine is Nunez, he's missing as usual. Ten is Alexis Mac Allister."

Mac Allister: "Present, Sir."

Elliott: "Suck up."

Slot: "Good I like presents. Cheese and clogs in particular."

Mac Allister: "Have some goya on toast Sir."

And Alexis serves up a plate of cheese on toast.

Slot: "Goya? Goya? Goya? He's a Spanish artist you stupid son of a bi*ch."

Elliott: "Duck Mac."

Mac Allister: "You misunderstand Sir, goya is the name of the cheese. It's from Argentina."

Slot: "Oh well why didn't you say."

Mr Slot takes a huge bite and licks his lips.

Slot: "It's no edam but it's damn good."

Mac Allister: "Oh very good Sir."

Elliott: "Suck up."

Slot: "Eleven is Mo Salah. He's here, I heard his fans earlier."

Mo clicks his fingers and Elliott jumps up to open the window where the kids parents are singing "...running down the wing." Mo smiles and instructs Elliott to close the window.

Slot: "Adrian is here but nobody knows why. Jones is down there with the other two. Cody is outside with Lucho. Elliott is here, he's had too much to say for himself. Twenty is Diogo Jota. Has anybody seen Jota?"

A squeak comes from under Van Dijk's table. The class monitor reaches under the table and lifts Jota up by his ankles.

Van Dijk: "He's here Sir."

Slot: "Good. Next is the Greek lad?"

Tsimikas: "Is right new Zeus. I iz loyal servant."

Slot: "Yes, well, I suppose we all need them from time to time. Andy Robertson is next."

Robertson: "Aye."

Slot: "Gravenberch?"

Gravenberch: "Ja ja my Dutchman Slot."

Slot: "Good. And we know Alexander-Arnold is here."

A cry of pain comes from the floor.

Slot: "And that is probably everybody of importance."

A number of the younger lads in the nursery section look angry.

Slot: "I'm sure we'll have a fantastic relationship you and I. As long as you all remember that this is my plane and I'm the pilot. The Dutch have taken over Liverpool. Me, Cody, Virg and Grav. So you better get used to it.

To be continued.