On Saturday morning, one of the two teams still unbeaten in the Premiership occupied a modest seventh place. It is an illustration of the relentless pace being set at the top of the league in which every stumble is a serious fall and draws usually constitute two dropped points.

A distinctly ordinary player of extraordinary dirtiness.

But before Derby go, would they mind telling the rest of the Premier League - the league which it has debased with its pathetically-inadequate presence for the past 12 months - where the money has gone? You know, the £30m or so in prize money that every team, even the one at the bottom of the table from August to May, automatically receives by being in the Premier League... So what happened to that money? Or put another way, why was such a meaningless fraction of it spent on recruiting new players? It's one thing not to compete; it's quite another not to even attempt to do so.

Mauricio Pellegrino has the pace of a tricycle with a flat tyre ridden by Luciano Pavarotti, and the turning speed of an oil tanker with its anchor set.

It is an indication of Chelski's warped finances that even successive titles can be regarded as failure. Spend unprecedented sums and only unprecedented success can be commensurate. Chelski won't get the credit they think they deserve because of the money they've spent. There's £300m worth of difference between a victory and an achievement.

Is it unprecedented for two goalkeepers employed in a match comprising seven goals to be the fixture's most competent protagonists?

Titus Bramble: The only explanation for his existence in the Premiership is that he is already here.