What a season!- The Premier League season ends.

What a season- The Premier League season ends.

Phew! What a football season. So it is that the collective work forces of the footballing Premier League come to an end this weekend- or tomorrow. In the end it was all very straightforward and logical rather like a simple mathematical equation. Chelsea have won the Premier League again, Leicester City, who must have thought they were imagining things by winning the Premier League last season, didn't do quite as well this season, Hull City, Middlesbrough and Sunderland were relegated to the Championship and my horse in the Grand National is probably still running. On second thoughts I think it's probably reached its stable by now with a bag of carrots for lunch.

Anyway the football season is over for another season and a nation of women will be puffing out their cheeks once again, relieved and grateful that their men folk have finally got it out of  their system once and for all. It's been nine months of constant references to Chelsea, Spurs, Liverpool, Arsenal, Manchester City and Manchester United. Nine months of discussion, analysis, comment, in depth observations and combustible controversy, an explosion of activity.

 Of course there is a large cross section of the female population who do take an interest in the welfare of Antonio Conte, Mauricio Pochettino, Jurgen Klopp, Pep Guardiola and Jose Mourinho. But how many variations on a theme can be there on Harry Kane's hair, Diego Costa's temper, David Silva's tanned shoulders and all those Premier League players with outlandish tattooes, this generation's broad fashion statement. All in all it's been one humdinger of a season, a season of peaks and troughs, near misses, flops and fluctuations, nine months of classic conflict and major triumphs, of almost but not quite and then a good old fashioned helping of quality football.

Football loves its characters, its teams, its managers and all of their endearing idiosyncrasies. But once again the entire nucleus of Premier League managers have all undergone varying degrees of humiliation, the ultimate tests of  personality and then thrown bottles of water onto the ground like spoilt children who never seem to get their way. Some, more than others, have illuminated our lives, others infuriated with their grumpy cantankerousness while some have been just a feast for the eyes.

Antonio Conte, manager of Premier League champions Chelsea, has been a vision in black, black clothes and black hair. Yet Conte has not been a master of the dark arts. Far from it. Conte has been one of the game's most outstanding of managers. In his technical area, Conte has been restless, constantly engaged, lively, lithe, lissom, irrepressible, a bundle of energy, full of enthusiasm, jumping and jiving, perhaps too obsessed, and then hurling himself into the Chelsea supporters with all the athleticism of a true Olympian.

 He may have to calm down eventually but if your team wins the Premier League you may be forgiven just a brief spot of fist pumping and self congratulation. It is hard to imagine how Conte would react to a Chelsea Champions League final victory. He may run around the Roman Colisseum over and over again just to make sure that the moment would never be forgotten.

Mauricio Pochettino, manager of Premier League runners up Spurs has experienced all of the game's most precious moments. Once again Spurs have fallen short and may think they've been hard done by but for Pochettino there have been redeeming features. Last season Spurs imploded in the closing stages of the season while this season their football has been richly refreshing, impeccably entertaining and delightful on the eye. Their football has been immensely pleasing on the eye, full of exotic flicks, tricks and short passing brilliance at its best. Spurs football has had a real sense of geometry and symmetry, a side with quick, vivid passes along the ground and the game's most gratifying grammar.

Pochettino has been a study of calm on the touchline, invariably clothed in that dark navy tracksuit, arms folded, concentration personified and never fussing or fretting when things go completely wrong. This season Pochettino has been part of a team who have brought the very best out of him. Pochettino is one of those quiet and analytical figures who never seem to look even remotely flustered at any time during a match. For most of the season the cool Argentinian has carefully assessed and dissected his team rather like a scientist in a laboratory.

Pep Guardiola, once one of Barcelona's most revered of managers has been notably less successful at Manchester City. For Guardiola, this has not been a Championship winning season so it might be thought the demanding owners at the Etihad would have been sharpening their guillotine. Off with your head Pep or that maybe prematurely rash and hasty. You have to give Pep time because Manchster City were never built in one season  and these things require patience.

Guardiola looks like something straight out of a fashion catalogue. Once again the theme has been black, dark and broodingly menacing. What is it about that smouldering eyed Latin look that is Guardiola's chief characteristic. For all the world Guardiola looks like a handsome film star, greying stubble on his chin. beautifully tailored suits from the finest of Spanish tailors, permanently tanned and all the charisma of a man who knows exactly how to charm the very best from his teams. Occcasionally he seems outraged and horrified by all of football's injustices but for all City's at times pulsating and perfect football, Guardiola still wants more from his teams and won't be happy until he gets it.

At Liverpool it's been another one of those seasons where everything looked both neat and well proportioned but without that polish and varnish that completes the finished article.  Liverpool have now been without a Premier League title for 27 years and there are those in the Anfield boot room who may privately hark back to those years of greatness and pre-eminence when Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Joe Fagan and Kenny Dalglish were delivering League titles as if it were one of the most natural acts in the world. And yet the Kop end at Anfield has been silenced, totally subdued by a horrific crowd tragedy, a recent and expensive re-development of the ground and a 21st century reality check.

Now though they have a German boss, name of Jurgen Klopp. Now Germany is now renowned for its meticulous attention to detail and thoroughness. Klopp has almost characteristically done things his way without ever taking leaves from the book of the great and good of Liverpool. His record at Borussia Dortmund was unquestionably brilliant and throughout this season Klopp has done his utmost to pick up the template of the Liverpool of old and incorporated his very unique style onto the present day Liverpool.

What do we make of Klopp?  He. rather like the aforementioned managers, looks reasonably relaxed and easy going but underneath that stern, serious and occasionally smiling  manner there is a man who would if he could head every ball, tackle with thunderous ferocity and generally give blood, sweat and tears for Liverpool. But he can't do that so he'll have to be content with the trials and tribulations of football management.

Klopp has conducted himself admirably in his technical area, nervelessly phlegmatic yet genuinely itching to rip off his  track suit and charge around the pitch like a reckless bull. Klopp, complete with the bushiest of black and greying beard, has been one of this season's most amusing sights. At frequent points during the season Klopp has wrestled with his glasses, dropped his glasses, hugged the players who have scored for him with a deeply affectionate squeeze and then grinned like a Cheshire cat. If there any sitcom writers out there in desperate need for a leading role then Jurgen may be your man. Klopp and his glasses have been inseparable this season so this could be his year.

For Arsene Wenger this season has been one of the longest and most painful of all time. Of course Arsenal have played some of the classiest and most sophisticated football in the modern League but then they've been doing much the same for well over 20 years now. It is hard to know whether Wenger will go or not but the hardened critics may come to regret their actions if Arsenal do decide to dispense with his services. Arsenal are still a great football club but for those who were brought up with a diet of good times and prosperity this may be the most difficult of decisions.

Jose Mourinho formerly of Chelsea and now Manchester United's prime asset as manager has endured one of the most awkward of settling in periods. The Mourinho moodiness and moroseness are almost part of the Premier League furniture but Mourinho may come to believe that if United beat Ajax in the Europa League final then some of the more disgruntled members of Old Trafford's Stretford End may have to form a different re-appraisal of their team's season. Mourinho still sulks and moans, mopes and sneers when things go disastrously wrong but can only resort to feeble excuses if it all looks disjointed and disconnected. The chances are though Mourinho may still be guiding United to European football next season so it may be time for Jose to crack his face into a beaming smile.

And what about the rest? There's Ronald Koeman, another experienced footballing figure whose Everton team regularly showed flashes of brilliance and consistency but then floundered and stumbled around like a young calf finding its feet. Everton are almost  historically programmed to playing top flight football having been one of the longest standing residents of the Premier League. But the memories of Harvey, Kendall and Ball alongside the likes of Heath, Sheedy and Reid may be beginning to pull Everton down like a cumbersome weight.

Then there are the middle of the road teams such as relative newcomers Bournemouth who are about to enter their third season in the Premier League. Eddie Howe, their clever and progressive manager may be young and wet behind the ears but Howe is intelligently carving out a well balanced team whose football purists love. Could it be that a gentle, likeable South Coast seaside resort have found a football team who know how to play football the right way? The answer probably lies in their mid table Premier League finish.

Finally there were are the lower orders in the Premier League. Crystal Palace have ploughed their way often laboriously through the season but survived because of one man whose reputation for survival is almost common knowledge now. Sam Allardyce is beginning to accumulate football clubs like a coin collector and once again Allardyce has found the Midas touch where most doubted. Once again Allardyce has polished off so many packets of chewing gum that it often looks as though he may have shares in Spearmint or Wrigley's. But the man from the Midlands, and the man who seemed to self destruct as temporary England boss, is passionately devoted to the cause and will continue on his one man crusade towards the promised land.

 Palace will start next season with a fresh slate in the top League but only modest hopes. Here is a team that seems blithely content to tread water and keep afloat in the Premier League but then this may be their default position anyway. Towards the end of the season though Palace did produce one or two excellent results and victories and in Wilfred Zaha they possess one of the games' brightest talents, an outstanding winger who knows his way to goal and is impossible to dispossess once in possession.

Then there's the marvellously cheerful and down to earth Tony Pulis at West Bromwich Albion, one of football's great thoroughbreds, a side with few pretensions but never really good enough to challenge the elite. Pulis is one of life's happy go lucky figures, always available for a joke and laugh but never despondent because he simply adores the cut and thrust of the game. Pulis, complete in track-suit top and bottoms, breathes footballing knowledge and that cap will be forever his and his trademark image. Ah, the Tony Pulis cap. It fits so well and is synonymous with the Pulis school of management. With glasses neatly perched and fingers in full flight Pulis prowls the touchline like a man looking for a fiver and then settling for a pound if he can't find that elusive fiver.

With Mark Hughes still performing miracles at Stoke City and Sean Dyche mixing and matching at Burnley, the Premier League may look back on the season as the one when the good guys got their just desserts and those with equally as mundane ambitions were just glad to be where they always were. Not a great deal changes in the great Premier League roadshow. The wannabes, the middle of the roaders, the aspirational and the legendary will all have their point to make next season.

Before I go. This is just a personal observation but has anybody noticed a couple of consistent patterns that seem to be emerging in the Premier League? Last season the Premier League bore a remarkable resemblance to the old Third Division with Bournemouth, Hull, now sadly relegated, and Watford all jostling for attention and adulation.

And now we have two seaside resorts in the Premier League with Brighton and Bournemouth battling it out on the welcoming promenades of football's top Division. Brighton will be joined by a resurgent Newcastle United who seemed to be yo yo ing between the divisions but who remain one of those big time and celebrated clubs who can never seem to get it right when it matters. Their manager Rafa Benitez should stabilise this grand liner of a club but with Newcastle you never know.

As I write this piece the other club to join Newcastle and Brighton are yet to be established but Sheffield Wednesday or Huddersfield are rather like a direct throwback to the 1960s and in the case of Wednesday both the 1960s, 70s and 80s. Isn't it strange how football does things in cycles? How to explain the downfall of those other notable English clubs who once graced the old First Division. Oh for the likes of Ipswich Town, Wolves and the brilliant Leeds United. Football can be so cruel and spiteful at times. We may hope that one day, one day they too will return with a vengeance.