Did you see the flood of clips after Liverpool’s 2‑0 win over Ipswich, showing coach Andoni Iraola’s quirky celebration?
The 44‑year‑old pointed at Milos Kerkez, whose turnover sparked Alexander Isak’s opener, and at Cody Gakpo, who set up the second goal.
Sharp eyes also caught the white tape coiled around Iraola’s fingers.
Andoni Iraola enjoyed that @LFC win ❤️ pic.twitter.com/7Omdmz95QB — Premier League (@premierleague) September 4, 2026
Before each match the Basque boss rolls tape around his right index and left middle finger, just above the knuckle, as soon as he steps into the stadium.
“It’s nonsense, just superstition,” Iraola told the Daily Echo in September 2023 while he was Bournemouth’s manager.
“Referees once asked me to strip it off. I did, nothing changed. After years of doing it, I still wrap it every game, even pre‑season. It’s a habit, not a necessity,” he explained.
He first adopted the habit in Athletic Bilbao’s youth ranks, and it stuck through his playing career into management.
Superstitions run deep in football, from Klopp’s habit of averting his eyes during penalties to David James’s silent pre‑match routine before spitting at the wall at Anfield.
Former Liverpool keeper Pepe Reina used to sip wine and eat cheese‑and‑ham toasties the night before a home game, then refuel at the same Queens Drive petrol station regardless of his tank level.
“When I cross the white line I must tap it twice with my right foot,” Reina wrote, noting the odd ritual helped calm his nerves.
“Approaching the goal I hit the right post, then the crossbar, then the left post, step six yards to the edge of the six‑yard box, repeat to the penalty spot, then back again,” he detailed.
Iraola isn’t alone in his backroom; other staff cling to their own quirks.
Tommy Elphick, the first‑team coach, pounds his studs on a goalpost before games—a habit born on his Brighton debut that sparked a win and never faded.
Positive results often cement a new superstition.
Ian Rush, Liverpool’s all‑time top scorer, soaked his boots before a 1983 clash with Luton, then netted five and repeated the ritual every match thereafter.
Sports psychologist Marc Sagal says superstitions arise when a random act coincides with success, forging a mental link that endures.
He adds that the mind latches onto the tape‑and‑performance pairing, even if the tape itself does nothing.
Uncertainty fuels these habits; when control slips, players and managers cling to any ritual that offers a sense of stability, often rooted in childhood practice.
Fans join in too, clutching lucky socks, taking the same route to the stadium, or occupying a favored pub seat.
Even I, despite poor eyesight, wait until the last seconds to put on my glasses at a Liverpool match—once I didn’t, and the team lost, so the habit stuck.
Iraola carried his finger‑tape into Liverpool’s recent Champions League triumph over Atletico Madrid.
In my view, harmless rituals can boost confidence and focus, providing a psychological edge in high‑pressure games.
But break the routine and anxiety can creep in, diverting attention from the match itself.
A simple test: see what happens when the tape isn’t available—if you’re uneasy, keep a spare roll handy.