Who knows what’s gonna happen next!

At least these guys are consistent in their inconsistency. Last week Arsenal did the hard bit and beat Bolton away, looking the business as their slick passing game beat the Bolton bruisers. Liverpool had drifted and drawn at home to Stoke. And Manchester City had thrilled all and sundry against a hapless Portsmouth.

Fast forward a week, and how things have changed. Arsenal somehow contrived to serve up only a second ever league loss at the Emirates against a brave but limited Hull City. Liverpool, inspired by El Nino, went across the road and won the Merseyside derby and City, attacking like millionaires but defending like paupers, showed that money cannot mask their lifelong inability to back up amazing performances with hard-ground results away from home.

This league season is about as predictable as the next twist in a soapie – you just never know …

I have tried hard to ignore what happened at Old Trafford on Saturday. I mean, of course Ronaldo made his return to the league, and yes United won at home. But there is just one small matter of a truly, stupefyingly diabolical decision by one Mr Rob Styles. What an absolute plonker! Not even serial diver Ronaldo really bothered to appeal for a spot-kick, but old Styles felt the need to change a game that Bolton had done very well to hold on to. Words fail me. As howlers go, that was up there with the werewolves on Halloween. Just terrible.

Reassuringly though, there were a few results that were true to form. Newcastle lost. At home. Again! Spurs lost. Again. How the supposedly mighty have fallen. Spurs apparently had top four ambitions this season. Top fourteen would do them rather nicely right about now.

As for the (car)Toon army, nothing that goes wrong there is met with surprise anymore. The calamity of all calamities has fallen upon St Shame Park – St James does not seem an appropriate name anymore. The latest takeover bid by a few Nigerian businessmen is one I am not too sure of.

On the one hand, it would be rather refreshing for an English club, the epitome of wealth in today’s world, to be the ultimate plaything of a few of our brothers. But, at the back of my mind are those endless e-mails I receive from Lagos, requesting my bank details in order to store a few bob for an ailing relative.

It all sounds too good to be true …