Back to the football- the Premier League bread and butter

Back to the football- the Premier League bread and butter.

After England's crushingly anti climactic World Cup qualification and the sorry tale of Scotland's narrow failure in the same World Cup group, it was time to return to the Premier League drawing board. Quite what must be going through Welsh minds doesn't really bear thinking about. Besides, they did reach the semi- finals of Euro 2016 only to be denied by the irrepressible Cristiano Ronaldo and his slightly fortunate Portugal team who went on to win the competition. For their part Northern Ireland may have to bite their finger nails in a World Cup play off. All in all it wasn't the worst of weeks for Britain's finest in World Cup action but it could have been a whole lot better.

Back at the Premier League coal face the top has rather a juicy regional flavour about it. At the moment the top four have been monopolised by Manchester and London which has invariably been the way of it for a number of seasons. Besides if Stoke City or Bournemouth had been in complete charge at the summit of the Premier League we may have wondered whether the world was indeed flat. But the inevitabilities and certainties of life have made sure that some things never change.

At the top of the two Manchester powerhouses United and City are beginning to look like grizzly bears in the middle of a forest about to pounce unsuspectingly at their prey. Neither Jose Mourinho at United or Pep Guardiola at City can in any way be described as a latter day version of Tommy Docherty or Malcolm Allison. Mourinho, for his part, has no Scottish cousins and would never claim to have had as many clubs than Jack Nicholas. Pep Guardiola of course doesn't sit smugly in the director's box with a fedora on his head nor does he smoke a cigar when things are going well for him. Guardiola is much more restrained than Malcolm Allison ever was although he may well think he's the best thing since sliced bread at times.

Meanwhile behind the Manchester clubs the London regiment are breathing down the necks of City and United with all the fire and fury bitter rivals normally harbour for each other. At roughly this point last season Chelsea were demolished by Arsenal at the Emirates and now London has come calling again. This time both Spurs, Chelsea and Arsenal are hanging onto the coat tails of the teams above them with all the ferocious tenacity of bloodhounds scenting something in the air.

Behind Manchester United and City are a Spurs side who at times look almost sublimely perfect, an unplayable attacking force whose quick, short passing game is so hypnotic and entrancing that you begin to wonder if the spirit of Bill Nicholson is still with Spurs. Under the immensely amiable Mauricio Pochettino the emergence of Harry Kane as an explosive young striker of international stature has now sent Tottenham into a footballing stratosphere where only the best belong.

Premier League champions Chelsea, although still a formidable force against any team in the country, still get the collywobbles and the opening day defeat at home to Burnley, left a horrible scar on Chelsea's otherwise unblemished skin. The critics were sniping and snarling, quite clearly convinced that last year's imperious form had suddenly vanished and would never be replaced. But Antonio Conte's team still has that unmistakable stateliness about them that has to be reckoned with. Their lethal striker Diego Costa may well have sulked his last and left the club but Morata looks as if he has rather more to offer than childish petulance.

And then there's Arsenal. They say patience is a virtue but for Gunners boss Arsene Wenger it may just as well be a game of cards. Last season, even by their own high standards, Arsenal were very much a busted flush particularly after the 3-0 hammering by Crystal Palace at Selhurst Park towards the end of last season. But the gamblers may well be tempted to put good money on Arsenal challenging the top three and even quite possibly winning the Premier League.

But the FA Cup holders may well have to err on the side of a caution and prudence may be the watchword at the Emirates. At Anfield back in August, Liverpool trampled all over Arsenal rather like Captain Mainwaring in that famous sketch where most of Dad's Army could hardly wait to get out of the cinema. Arsenal though are now back in their groove, reverting happily back to that quick passing, cultured passing game that picks off defenders and is frequently impossible to counter.

Once the likes of Mezut Ozil and Alexis Sanchez finally decide where the future lies then maybe Arsenal can forget all about Liverpool and concentrate on the intricacies and delicacies of their beautiful passing triangles. Sometimes watching Arsenal is rather like watching a symphony orchestra where the sounds and verses are all executed with a breathtaking economical stride.

The Arsenal fans, who sometimes seem to expect perfection from their team, will now be monitoring their side rather like some very critical teacher who demands that their students are pushed to their academic limit. It is hard to know what exactly what may be going through Arsene Wenger's mind but as the years go by it does seem that management can be doing no favours to his health.

In his technical area Wenger sits there with hands stuffed firmly into his grey track suit pockets, gazing out with that grey, gaunt and haggard face, a man wrestling with some private anguish that he can never properly express. It does look at times as if Wenger is suffering for no particular reason but his team can still play some of the most artistic football ever seen. Arsenal do know how to look after and cherish the ball and do so with an almost romantic tenderness. The halcyon days of George Graham were superbly successful and the last gasp League Championship title win at Anfield in 1989 now seems a glorious microcosm of what would follow in later years for Arsenal.

So there you have it. The top five at the Premier League have revved their engines and seem to be laying their concrete foundations for the rest of the season. Some of them will have to hold onto their cement mixers and others will just have to chip and carve their way through well marshalled defences. Autumn has now well and truly settled and although Jose stubbornly refuses to smile and Pep isn't exactly forthcoming with his feelings we shall have to be content with the slow burning Arsene Wenger grin. Oh to be a Premier League manager.