All isn’t OK. Things are far from OK.
Leicester are the extreme in a season that has seen the gap between the better sides, and the lesser sides narrow- if not disappear. Unfortunately for us, we’ve been a victim of this catch up period. Like the lame buffalo in a David Attenborough documentary- on the face of it, sides have picked us out as the weakest of the pack. They’ve come onto our patch, roughed us up, and had their way as they please. Even the foxes that sit atop the premier league table have been in and mauled- what should be- the bigger, more powerful animal. If I’m going to continue to labour the tedious animal references: as others have embraced the challenge of the more competitive league, we’ve somehow managed to develop a soft underbelly along the way- we’ve become the
rhino chasing the stampeding pack in Jumanji. Grunting, tired, trudging- we’re plodding along behind the leading pack. We aren’t even close. Chaos ensues in front: Leicester(!) are top, United are poor, West Ham are getting nose bleeds, it might well be the worst Liverpool side of my lifetime, and the likes of Stoke, Southampton, and West Brom join them as some of the eleven sides that currently sit above us. Compounding frustrations is the fact that when we did have our house in order under Roberto Martinez two years ago, we had 54 points after 29 games. Which would be good enough for third this season. But we’re not, and besides- the landscape has changed since then, as I’ve mentioned. But it does add to the frustration, on some level. The year we finished fourth under David Moyes, it felt like every time we lost- Liverpool managed to. Every time we gave them a hope, they fluffed their lines. Fast forward to this year, and as teams at the top have declined- here’s us with our best squad in thirty years- and we’re badly underperforming. It should’ve been us closing the gap. We should’ve been the side lurking in the long grass after an awful season last year- ready to pounce on the champions league places vacated by the mangy, flea riddled carcasses of Chelsea and United. But we haven’t.