Bradley Barcola’s world beyond football: anime tattoos, a FIFA-inspired shirt number and the story behind his celebrations

Bradley Barcola is poised to become a Liverpool player after the club agreed a £120 million package with Paris Saint-Germain for the France international. The 23-year-old winger, who was also monitored by Arsenal, has opted for Anfield as the next stage of his career. While his pace and end product on the pitch have driven the transfer, a look at his life away from the game reveals a personality shaped by Japanese animation, video-game nostalgia and carefully chosen personal rituals.

Barcola’s interest in Japanese culture began in childhood in Villeurbanne, a suburb of Lyon. Manga and anime captured his imagination early and remained a constant as he grew older. Among his favourite titles are the Studio Ghibli films Spirited Away and Princess Mononoke, along with the darker series Tokyo Ghoul and Jujutsu Kaisen. What started as entertainment evolved into a lasting influence that he has chosen to wear permanently on his skin.

A body of work inspired by manga and Studio Ghibli

The most striking expression of that passion is his collection of tattoos. A large piece covering his back depicts a samurai wearing a Hannya mask, set against blooming cherry blossoms and a traditional pagoda. On his lower forearm he has gathered characters from Spirited Away. Ken Kaneki, the central figure of Tokyo Ghoul, appears on his arm, while Ryomen Sukuna from Jujutsu Kaisen is inked on his shoulder. References to Princess Mononoke complete a visual catalogue of the stories that mattered most to him as a boy and still resonate now.

When asked about the artwork, Barcola has given a straightforward explanation. Speaking to Club Legacyz he said the designs stem directly from the mangas and animes he watched when younger. The stories and characters inspired him, and the tattoos allow him to carry those influences wherever he goes. In an industry where players’ bodies are often covered in dates, names or abstract patterns, Barcola’s choices form a coherent narrative about the fictional worlds that helped shape his outlook.

Turning passion into a collectible

Last year that same enthusiasm produced a commercial collaboration. Working again with Club Legacyz, Barcola released a limited-edition football designed around manga aesthetics. The ball featured Japanese text, cloud motifs and illustrations that included his own goal celebration together with visual nods to his path in the game. Priced at around £68, the collectors’ item sold out after its release.

Barcola described the project as a deliberate attempt to reflect his identity. He wanted the Japanese universe, the clouds and the manga style—everything he loves—to be present, along with the celebration that has become familiar to fans. The finished product, he said, felt entirely personal: a mixture of his passions and his identity on the pitch. The rapid sell-out suggested that supporters were equally drawn to the intersection of football and the visual culture he champions.

How a video-game character decided his squad number

Anime is not the only cultural product that left a mark on the young Barcola. Like many players of his generation, he spent considerable time on the FIFA series, now known as EA Sports FC. The story mode “The Journey,” which followed the fictional rise of Alex Hunter, proved particularly influential. After guiding Hunter to stardom on numerous occasions, Barcola made a private decision: if he ever became a professional, he would wear the number 29.

He has stuck to that choice. “When I was younger, I used to play FIFA,” he recalled. “In the story mode with Alex Hunter, this number became symbolic for me. I thought to myself: the day I go pro, it’ll be number 29. And here I am—I adopted it, and now I’ll never let it go.” The detail offers a small but revealing insight into how virtual experiences can translate into real-world identity for a generation that grew up with both elite academies and gaming consoles.

Celebrations with meaning

On the pitch Barcola’s most common response to scoring is to point both index fingers toward the sky. He has explained the gesture as an expression of gratitude. “Every player has their own way of celebrating, and for me it’s by pointing my fingers to the sky,” he said. “I thank God for everything He’s given me. It’s my way of paying homage to Him every time I score.” The routine is consistent and understated, a personal acknowledgement rather than a choreographed display.

One exception stands out. In October 2024, after scoring against Marseille at the Stade Vélodrome, he performed the distinctive “Charo” movement popularised by former Paris Saint-Germain midfielder Blaise Matuidi and originally associated with French rapper Niska. Barcola later revealed that the homage had been premeditated. The night before the match he had watched videos of Matuidi’s old games and decided that if he scored he would recreate the celebration. When the moment arrived the execution felt instinctive. Doing it in a packed Vélodrome, he said, was magical.

Liverpool supporters are unlikely to mind which routine they see next season provided the goals continue to arrive. Whether he points to the heavens or produces another rare variation, the celebrations will form part of the visual language he brings to Anfield.

A personality built on clear references

Taken together, the tattoos, the collaboration ball, the squad number and the goal celebrations sketch a coherent off-field portrait. Barcola is a young man who formed strong attachments to the stories and games of his childhood and has chosen to keep those attachments visible in adulthood. Japanese animation supplied characters and aesthetics he still finds inspiring. A video-game narrative gave him a number he considers non-negotiable. Faith shapes his most frequent on-pitch reaction to success, while respect for a predecessor produced a one-off tribute in one of French football’s most intimidating venues.

None of these details alters the sporting attributes that convinced Liverpool to meet PSG’s valuation. Speed, technique and a growing goal threat remain the reasons the transfer is happening. Yet for fans seeking to understand the person behind the player, the evidence is unusually clear. Barcola does not treat his interests as private footnotes; he wears them on his skin, encodes them in his shirt number and occasionally performs them in front of tens of thousands of spectators.

As he prepares for the Premier League, those same interests will travel with him to Merseyside. Whether the North West can satisfy a continuing appetite for Japanese manga is a minor practical question. More relevant is that the player arriving at Anfield already possesses a defined cultural identity—one built on animation, gaming and personal gratitude—that sits comfortably alongside his ambitions on the pitch. In an age when footballers’ off-field lives are often carefully curated, Barcola’s references feel specific, consistent and genuinely his own.