In the plethora of beautiful, moving, heartfelt tributes to Diogo Jota, a common theme was legacy. Understandably so. But Arne Slot, in his own poignant words, was right when he said now was the time to mourn the loss of a ‘unique human being’. It is still time to grieve. For his family, that time will never elapse. The grief for all of us who only knew Diogo Jota the footballer - not Diogo Jota the man, the father, the husband, the son, the friend, the team-mate - will subside. And that is when we should talk about making sure his legacy lasts. Grief will subside, remembrance will not. Liverpool Football Club and Liverpool fans will make sure Jota, and all that he represented, is not forgotten. Right now, the way in which that is done is irrelevant. Having said Jota’s number 20 shirt will be ‘rightly immortalised’, the club might decide to retire the jersey. There are other tangible methods of remembrance, his name and image will, in some form, be etched into the fabric of Anfield. And when the Kop congregates for the first time in the new season, it will be for their own passionate, tearful eulogy to a player they had taken to their hearts. To one of their own. There will not be another Liverpool game, home or away, when the name of Diogo Jota is not sung. But remembrance does not have to be collective. Every individual fan will have his or her quiet moment, contemplating the unimaginable tragedy and thinking back to the joy Jota gave them. They will walk into Anfield and see a part of the pitch they remember Jota doing something special in. They will see an opposing team that Jota did something special against. And every individual player who has shared a dressing-room and a training ground with Jota will do the same. As a team, every game will always carry extra poignancy. “Your legacy will live on, we will make sure of it,” said Jota’s captain, Virgil van Dijk. They certainly will. Sadly, Liverpool Football Club, its supporters, the city and the community know about trying to cope with tragedy. Cope is probably the wrong word. They have shown previously their resilience, togetherness and strength in adversity. If - and it is bound to happen - certain players are struggling because they were so close to Jota, the club, community and city will try and lift them. No-one walks alone. A part of Jota’s legacy will be that, in an unthinkably tragic way, he brought people closer together. And maybe what has happened will have a legacy on the wider world of football, not just within the borders of Merseyside. After all, it was not only Liverpool supporters who wept when the news came through. Partiality was rendered meaningless. This was a man and his younger brother, Andre Silva, taken away in their prime. This was a 28-year-old man with three children and married only for a matter of days. These were the only two sons of proud, loving parents. This touched every man and every woman. It might be wishful thinking, it might be beyond wishful thinking, but maybe, just maybe, those who stopped to contemplate the emotional devastation of this tragedy might just think about how they behave towards the young men and women they pay to watch play football. They might just stop to make sure passion, anger even, does not become vile abuse. You never know, even those numbskulls who think tragedy chanting has a place in a football stadium might think again. They probably won’t. But if even one of them did, it would be a legacy. Most of us did not know Jota the person but, in their beautiful tributes, the people that did told us who he was. And he was someone whose legacy will live forever … in Liverpool and, hopefully, beyond.