That was the week that was

Hey, I’m the king of the Premier
A football VIP
I’ve reached the top
Ain’t gonna stop
And that’s what’s pleasing me!

Oh dear Mou
What did you do oo oo?
Don’t wanna work like you
Talk like you, be like you to oo!

(Feel free to frolic on with your own suitable lyrics…)

Keeping it Jungle Book for a minute how has Mowgli done it? In one sensational season the ecstatic swinger on the dugout has taken Jose Mourinho’s team of champs-gone-chimps, quickly re-trained the wild ones like Costa, Hazard and Fabregas back into happy, domestically house-trained pets, and brought in a couple of star newbies like Moses and Alonso. The result has been a staggering travelling circus of a reborn Chelsea who have stormed the Premier League this season, playing superb football in the process without hardly a hint of controversy. The modest Italian deserves serious recognition for a superb feat.

Jose Who? Oh him, the mediocre Manchester man… You remember, United – they used to be huge several years ago. Today the Reds are a caricature of themselves: without a certain hulking Swedish mercenary’s regular goals the rest are a nervous shambles of poor confidence, not helped by their brooding, blaming manager: the Shaw shambles is pathetic. The Portuguese man-o-war takes no responsibility for the embarrassing sixth position United find themselves in. Others were sacked for such ineptitude – hmm – so just where do United go from here? Surely it can’t go on next season? Mou’s got one close season left to do what he did when he came back to Stamford Bridge – can he do it again?

Palace 3 Arsenal 0. Laugh? I nearly bought my own beer – who’s at which end of the table? Who’d be a Gooner these days with humiliation like that? The bemused look on Sanchez’s fizzog was in line with that on Death Row on the grey-faced grey swathed duo on the away bench. Just what does Steve Bould do these days, cos whatever it is, it’s not working…

In direct contrast and 14 points above super Spurs go marching on, lately giving substandard Watford theirs: this should be a fabulous season at White Hot Lane, but for those pesky West Londoners over at the Kings Road. Still, the Great White news is that at last there is massive daylight below with Arsene’s Army contemplating mutiny in the ranks, as the cool Chilean wind of change swirls round the Emirates.

For the curious fence-sitters amongst us Liverpool continue to amaze. Main man Mane is now out for the duration, and that weak Red underbelly was exposed once again by brave Bournemouth in the week, and even Stoke on Saturday. Fortunately, Coutinho and Firmino put the ear-to-ear grin back on Klopp’s charismatic kisser, turd place for Anfield, shouldn’t his kids be doing better by now?

In the Blue corner of Merseyside it’s a pity the Toffees haven’t got a few points to challenge and upset the CitArsUtd ménage a trois, the quad banging of Leicester with Lucky in top form was good to watch. Keeping it Blue the mortality of the once-mighty king of Catalonia is there for all to see. Hardly anyone would have predicted that mightily wealthy Man City would be struggling to qualify for Europe with some very questionable performances this time round. Just where these Blues are bound no-one knows: big Pep talks needed close season at the Etihad…

It’s Swansea or Hull, isn’t it? Well, not deforably, there’s one or two more sweaty suspects, but they must be worried in the valleys – and there’s a lot riding on that for Paul Clement, what a career he’s having. Marco Silva had a lot less to lose, and the spivy-looking Tigers’ boss is doing very well. My money’s on the Swans submerging except I don’t bet (mug’s game, but I should have backed One For Arthur, my middle name).

Midland Gazette: phew, Forest won and Burton drew. OK, Leicester won’t be joining us next year if we stay up (seriously Foxes, good luck against Atletico Wednesday, you’ll need it), and hopefully Derby won’t scrape into the play-offs so here’s to next year. Lest ye all forget Forest were double European champions back when Pontius was a pilot: RIP, Brian x.