Morning:
6°c
Perhaps it's just the appetite being sharpened by a summer bereft of a major tournament, but the eve-of-first-game tingle of anticipation feels especially acute this year. Giant question marks hang over each of England's mightiest clubs, and if the most intriguing surrounds Manchester City's bid to become one of those, others seem more relevant to events come May when they're handing out the trophy.
Can Manchester United survive losing Cristiano Ronaldo? Will Carlo Ancelotti adapt to the demands of the English game in time? Are Liverpool capable of shrugging off the financial chaos to claim their first Premier League title? And have Arsene Wenger's precocious toddlers matured sufficiently to neutralise the lack of experience and transfer spending power?
With Ronaldo's departure further narrowing the slender gulf between (apologies to Gooners) the Big Three, predicting is more than ever an imbecile's game. So here goes. Chelsea's solidity, resilience and consistency will give them the title by the narrowest of squeaks. They won't please the eye, Ancelotti hardly being one to obsess about aesthetics, but the ability to strangle more creative opponents, as they stifled Barcelona in the Champions League, will make them horrendously difficult to beat.
If United pick up where they left off against Barca, they'll be lucky to finish fourth. Their capitulation was shocking that night in Rome, and you wonder what scarring the surgical slicing delivered by the wondrous Andres Iniesta may have left behind. For all that, and however depleted their attacking potential (Michael Owen equals Ronaldo plus Carlos Tevez? You needn't be Carol Vorderman on triple Omega 3 rations to question that equation), their underrated defensive brilliance gives them every chance.
As for Liverpool, they rely heavily on two of the planet's greats. If Fernando Torres and Steven Gerrard stay fit, as they selfishly refused to do at pivotal moments last season, nothing is beyond Rafael Benitez's team. But too many eggs and not quite enough baskets come to mind.
With Man City, history teaches that coaches need a full season to meld a clutch of costly imports into an effective unit. Mark Hughes may not have that kind of time, and it's unthinkable that City will concede their reputation as the home of footballing slapstick without a desperate rearguard.
There is an excellent chance, then, that Arsene Wenger will cling to that final Champions League berth. I hope so. For all the lack of trophies, the mellowing Alsatian remains a hero for his purist commitment on a relatively tight budget. He will need Andrey Arshavin at his most lethal, and Cesc Fabregas at his imperious best. But if young Jack Wilshere is half as good as some think, the prospect of him and Theo Walcott combining in a successful side will enthral those of us with insanely misguided hopes for England in the World Cup.
So it's Chelsea, United, Liverpool, Arsenal and City for me, in that order, as it is for the bookies. Of the rest, Spurs, West Ham and Fulham have each other, Aston Villa and Everton to battle for the Europa League scraps. At the southerly end of the table, Portsmouth's disintegration might permit one of the new bugs (most likely Wolves) a stay of execution. On the other hand, it might not. In this riot of doubt, there is only the certainty of uncertainty to cling to as the roller-coaster sets in motion.
Whatever else happens in the months ahead, we will be spared the vision of morbidly obese Geordies flaunting their bellies in a snowstorm, and for that relief much thanks.
