There was a lot of passion with Klopp, I felt that most in the

In the chronicles of sport, where battles are fought not with swords but with spirit, the midfielder Shinji Kagawa bore witness to a leader whose presence transformed men into warriors. He said of his master: “There was a lot of passion with Klopp, I felt that most in the dressing room before games. He always had a big smile. He hugged every player. I loved his attitude – he was never nervous. He gave us confidence.” These words are not mere description of a coach, but the testimony of one who experienced the rare alchemy of leadership—the ability to take fear and turn it into faith, to take men and bind them into a brotherhood.

The heart of this saying lies in the power of passion. Before the whistle blew, before the roar of the crowd, the true battle was in the dressing room, where the mind could falter and the spirit could wane. It was there that Jürgen Klopp wielded his greatest weapon—not tactics alone, but fire. His passion poured into his players, not as command but as gift, reminding them that the game was not merely duty, but joy. Such passion, once ignited, cannot be quenched, and it carried men into the field as though they bore the banners of an army.

And what of the smile? Kagawa tells us that before the battle, Klopp greeted his players not with cold strategy, but with warmth. A hug, a smile, a touch of humanity—these were the shields against fear. For what soldier does not march more boldly when he knows his general loves him? History recalls the deeds of Alexander the Great, who would eat beside his men, share their burdens, and call them by name. In this, he bound them with loyalty stronger than chains. So too Klopp, whose embrace was not weakness but strength, a reminder that courage is born of love.

Kagawa also speaks of his master’s attitude: never nervous, never shaken. This calm was not ignorance of the stakes, but mastery of them. Leaders who tremble pass fear into the hearts of their followers. Leaders who stand firm steady the souls of all around them. We recall the words of Winston Churchill in Britain’s darkest hour, when he declared, “We shall never surrender.” His voice, unbroken, gave confidence to millions. In Klopp, the players heard not doubt but conviction, and so they entered the field with hearts uplifted.

The true gift of such leadership, as Kagawa reveals, is confidence. For skill without confidence falters, but confidence can elevate even the humble into greatness. A man who believes in himself because another first believed in him is a man capable of wonders. How many champions, poets, and saints were born not because they never doubted, but because someone else silenced their fear with faith? Klopp’s gift was not only tactics but belief, planted deep into every soul he touched.

The lesson is clear: whether on the field, in the workshop, or in the family, true leadership is not domination but inspiration. To lead is to ignite passion, to share warmth, to remain calm in the storm, and to give confidence to others until they see their own strength. Greatness does not arise from fear, but from the courage breathed into the heart by another’s presence.

So let Kagawa’s words endure as teaching: “He always had a big smile. He hugged every player. He gave us confidence.” Let every leader remember that strategy alone is not enough, that humanity is the mightiest weapon of all. And let every follower cherish the leaders who see them not as pawns, but as brothers and sisters in a shared struggle. For passion, warmth, and faith together create a strength that no enemy can overcome.