Cup Final tomorrow and heading for the final straight in the Premier League season.

 FA Cup Final tomorrow and heading for the final straight in the Premier League season. 

Can you believe it? Tomorrow Chelsea meet Leicester in the football season's end of season grand finale, the FA Cup Final at Wembley Stadium. How quickly the season has flown by and yet it only seems like yesterday since the end of the last season which only resumed at roughly the beginning of last July. How totally confusing and yet some of us are still wondering what happened to the season that is now approaching its last three games of this season. Some of us need a lie down in a dark room. 

Here we are at the end of one of the craziest, novel, unprecedented and strangely designed football seasons ever to enter our living rooms. The fact of the matter is of course that the living room was the only one place you could safely watch the season unfolding without infecting somebody. But finally in what promises to be a very special last day of the season football will be rubbing its hands with glee in anticipation of humankind. Now who thought we'd ever utter that sentence again. 

Now the chances are that there won't be a full complement of home and away football supporters in the game's final chapters but it's a start, a tentative start admittedly but a start nonetheless. Tomorrow's FA Cup Final will welcome 21,000 fans into Wembley Stadium although that may be a rough estimate. But just when you'd given up all hope of any football supporters filing through the turnstiles again, tomorrow will be the launch pad for something much more ambitious- a full ground perhaps. 

But surely congratulations should be extended to Pep Guardiola's exceptional, pre-eminent, all conquering, sublimely beautiful Manchester City. Once again City are splendidly deserving winners of the Premier League and it almost seems as if we've been here before in the not too distant past. Last season Jurgen Klopp's all purpose, at times spellbinding Liverpool ran away with a Premier League title that was so convincing and comprehensive that the pace makers behind were puffing and panting in Liverpool's wake. 

Then again though Liverpool had to wait until some anti-climactic point in the middle of last summer to pick up their first Premier League winning trophy and their first League title for 31 years now. Anfield was a riot of glitter, confetti and what can only be described as silvery scraps of paper by way of that final confirmation of  a richly rewarding season. Liverpool played the kind of astonishing football that some of us used to expect of them. Their game was seasoned with a  remarkable style and an enthralling ingenuity that quite took the breath away. It was precise, counter attacking football that even Manchester City couldn't quite keep up with. 

And once again one man in a light blue Manchester City shirt took all the bouquets of praise, garlanded with the rightful honours that can only be bestowed on the best. Kevin De Bruyne, Belgium's greatest player since goodness knows when, enjoyed one of his most superlative and scintillating seasons quite certainly since the last time City won the Premier League season. It is hard to categorise Bruyne in any football Hall of Fame and greatness is simply subjective. 

The bottom line of course is that genius in a sporting context is simply indefinable and Bruyne remains one of the most consistently brilliant playmakers in the club's history. Of course there had to be the lovable rogue who was Rodney Marsh, the beloved Colin Bell, the bustling Francis Lee, City's dynamic three musketeers, Maine Road cavaliers and show offs. But De Bruyne was no mere Belgian waffle more of a Black Forest Gateau with pretty cherries on top. 

But as City play out another season of  gold nuggets and decorative football to smarten up any League in the world it is easy to take them for granted. Liverpool, you suspect, were just keeping the Premier League title warm for their North West England rivals and City have been models of versatility and flexibility, a team of highly minted footballing all stars, footballers of the highest pedigree and stature. Two seasons ago City were almost untouchable, unsurpassable, almost invincible but not quite in the way of Arsene Wenger's Arsenal masterclass. They won the Premier League with a record breaking century of points and none could even remotely come close to them. 

Now though they're Premier League champions again and deservedly so. Their football has been overwhelming, beautifully co-ordinated, almost mellifluous at times reaching the highest notes and scales. They have been technically superb, polished and professional at all times and utterly ruthless in their finishing. When they come to write the definitive history of the game, City will be right up there with their noisy neighbours Manchester United, Liverpool, Arsenal and Spurs who last won the old First Division championship 60 years ago when everything seemed possible. 

The chances are that Manchester United, Leicester, Chelsea, Liverpool and one of many contenders will also be challenging for places in both the Europa League and Champions League. Your heart tells you that your claret and blue heroes West Ham will also join Europe's top table for a slap up, lavish meal in Europe's elite and not so elite clubs but the head is far more realistic.

Chelsea return to Wembley for their second consecutive FA Cup Final and Leicester can only be hoping that the Stamford Bridge team have fluffed their lines or suffered stage fright. During this week Chelsea came unstuck at home to Arsenal and may be slightly unnerved by the big occasion again. It would be fascinating to be a fly on the wall in the Jose Mourinho home. Mourinho once had the Midas touch but after another miserable period at  Spurs, Mourinho now contents  himself with TV advertisements for a betting company. We have no reason to think that Mourinho loves a flutter or two but Chelsea will be trying to emulate the achievements of the Portuguese miracle maker because Chelsea have come a long way since the so called 'Special One' parked his bus on a West London piece of turf.