Wolves 2-1 Liverpool: Reds' season hangs on the precipice after being outfought by Rob Edwards' battlers, writes DOMINIC KING - and the new Premier League record that should embarrass Arne Slot's side

This was joy unconfined for Wolves , turning Liverpool manager Arne Slot 's statement on its head.

Slot had been invited on Monday to offer a view on the standard of the Premier League and, listening to his 'football heart', he explained that he wasn't enjoying what he was seeing.

Well, he didn't enjoy this - not by a long way. Liverpool, on a charmless night, had played as conservatively as a batsman eschewing boundaries in favour of a poked single and ended up having their stumps knocked out of the ground.

What a triumph this was for Wolves. There hasn't been too much cheer around here this season but Rob Edwards has done super work since coming in as manager, restoring some pride and picking up some terrific results and this was the best of the lot. How he enjoyed it, racing down the touchline, arms spinning like windmills.

He deserved to, too. Wolves had spirit, heart and desire, which Liverpool horribly lacked.

Rodrigo Gomes, on as a substitute, struck first, streaking clear of Ibrahima Konate in the 78th minute before deftly clipping a finish over Alisson Becker after Tolu Arokodare had got the better of Virgil van Dijk .

Andre's deflected strike in stoppage time gave Wolves a famous win over Liverpool

The Brazilian's effort hit Joe Gomez and looped up and over Alisson to give Wolves victory

Then, though, Mohamed Salah arrived. It had been a torturous night for Liverpool's shooting star, his touch deserting him and confidence appearing to drain away, but he quarried deep into his reserves to find a goal that seemed set to avert a calamity.

Even then, Slot was not celebrating. A game that should have been straightforward for a team that are pursuing a place in next season's Champions League morphed into the equivalent of listening to a sermon on economics in a stuffy, poorly ventilated lecture theatre: a recipe to leave you dozing. Until the late flurry.

These two clubs would never have envisaged being united in grief but the tragic event of last July — the car crash that claimed the lives of Diogo Jota and his brother, Andre Silva — means there will be a permanent link between Wolves and Liverpool. As such, this match was always going to be emotional.

It never cut as deeply as it did at Anfield in December, when Jota's widow, Rute, and their children led the teams out, but the chanting of Jota's name around every part of this stadium, from the 18th to the 20th minute, reminded you, once again, what has really mattered this season.

Don't doubt that it still hurts everyone. In a quiet moment on Monday, Slot mentioned Jota and his demeanour instantly changed — this isn't to make an excuse for performances, it is simply an awful reality.

You could understand, then, why the atmosphere was so flat for a spell afterwards. The home fans are seemingly resigned to the fate of relegation and, with Liverpool having so much of the ball, there wasn't much opportunity for them — of their team — to build up a head of steam.

Rodrigo Gomes' superb finish put the Premier League's bottom side ahead in the second half

Mo Salah equalised shortly after to give the Reds hope of a late comeback at Molineux

But Arne Slot's side were beaten at the death in a huge blow to their Champions League hopes

For all Liverpool had the ball, however, they did next to nothing with it. There was one moment of light, when Hugo Ekitike set off like a tap dancer, all fast feet and elastic legs, but after covering 60 yards with grace, Jeremie Frimpong bludgeoned the resulting chance over the bar.

This was Liverpool in a nutshell. As Wolves worked stoically, with the impressive Joao Gomes catching the eye, the overriding impression was that Slot's men had, carelessly, allowed another 45 minutes to pass them by.

It wasn't in the realm of their abject efforts the last time they were in Middle England, at Nottingham Forest, but it was laboured. Horribly so. Slot spent plenty of time pacing, head bowed with his hands stuffed in his pockets. These were the nights when, historically, Salah would shatter the gloom like a bolt of lightning, hurtling in from the right with the ball glued to his foot, taking the responsibility to find a way forward for his team.

Salah had scored the winner at this stadium last season, but last night the man who looked like he could walk on water resembled someone wading through treacle, the pizzazz worryingly absent.

The incident which summed up his night more than anything came in the 66th minute when, after more patient play, Alexis Mac Allister rolled a pass out to him on the corner of the area but the Egyptian's shot cleared the bar by a bigger distance than Frimpong. History also tells you it is wrong to make a definitive conclusion on Salah. He has been too ferocious a competitor and too consistent with his numbers to make a snap judgement, but this worrying sequence was heading to an 11th Premier League game without a goal.

But just when all seemed lost, he burst into life. A loose ball arrived at his feet, he charged forward as those in Old Gold backed off and, with just enough goal to aim at, he fizzed a shot that beat Jose Sa.

He didn't celebrate, mind you. It wasn't a night for merriment. And there would be a sting in the tail.

Alisson's poor kick put Liverpool into trouble and with the lines not cleared, they had a chance to shoot. Andre's effort took a deflection and looped over the Brazilian keeper. And how Wolves enjoyed it.