The tribute took place at Ed Sheeran’s Lisbon concert on July 5, just three days after Diogo Jota and his brother André were killed in a car accident in Spain. Though Ed and Diogo had never collaborated publicly, the two shared a quiet friendship built through mutual respect and late-night chats during Liverpool matches at Anfield.
Ed, a lifelong football fan and honorary Red, had once called Jota “a silent storm on the pitch” in an old interview. That admiration turned to heartbreak when news of Jota’s death broke.
Fans attending the Lisbon show didn’t expect a tribute. But Ed, known for his raw emotional honesty, used music to say what words couldn’t.
The arena was midway through the concert when Ed suddenly broke from his upbeat tempo and addressed the crowd in Portuguese-accented English:
“There’s someone from this country who brought a lot of joy — not just to the pitch, but to people’s homes. Diogo Jota wasn’t just a footballer. He was a dad, a brother, and a dreamer. And tonight, we honor him.”
With that, the stage lights dimmed to red — Liverpool red — and Ed launched into a haunting version of “Photograph,” changing a few lyrics to personalize the moment:
“We keep this love in a photograph / We made these memories for ourselves…
Your boots won’t walk these fields again / But your fire never left.”
As photos of Jota flashed behind him — goals, family moments, and childhood smiles — the entire stadium stood in silence. Several Liverpool players in attendance, including Trent Alexander-Arnold and Luis Díaz, were seen in tears, arms around each other.
Midway through the performance, the crowd spontaneously began chanting Jota’s name. Sheeran stepped away from the mic, letting the chant swell through the stadium like a wave of love.
He returned only to whisper:
“This one’s for a lion we lost too soon.”
In a world that often doesn’t know how to grieve its heroes, Ed Sheeran gave voice to a nation’s sorrow — through melody, memory, and simple grace.
Later that night, Ed posted a single photo on Instagram: a close-up of Jota’s jersey draped over his piano stool, with the caption:
“Rest easy, Diogo. You made your dream count. Now we’ll carry it for you.”
Sometimes, tribute doesn’t need fireworks or fanfare. Sometimes, all it takes is a guitar, a voice, and the courage to sing when the heart is breaking.
