Only one club are sitting pretty at the top of the Premier League, but the supporters’ anxiety after 22 years without the title risks infecting the players

Full-time and handshakes. A little Tears for Fears tinkles over the public address system. Beyond that … what, exactly? How to describe this swirling, velvety anti-noise? The sound of no gloves clapping? The sound of time physically disappearing down a vortex? The sound of no emotions?

It began with North London Forever and by the end we felt as though we had been in north London for ever: stuck on an endless loop of William Saliba passing to Jurriën Timber, of Virgil van Dijk pausing as he tried to bait a press that would never come. Long periods of this game were played at literal walking pace.

In Manchester United’s brave new world coaches are more like Deliveroo drivers: not really responsible for the food, but still to blame if it arrives cold

Turns out he could survive losing against Grimsby. Survive losing a crucial European final against one of the worst Tottenham teams in living memory. He could survive losing at home against West Ham and Wolves, finishing 15th, the tactical inflexibility, laying waste to some of the club’s best homegrown talent, the 32% win rate, calling his team the worst in Manchester United history. But there was one adversary with whom Ruben Amorim would not be allowed to dance. You come at Jason Wilcox, and you best not miss.

Unfortunately, like many a Premiership right-back in Blackburn’s title-winning 1994‑95 season, Amorim came at Jason Wilcox and appears to have missed. Even the most distracted of readers will notice the irony here: a coach who often railed at his players for losing one-on-one duels crumbling in the face of the white heat and animal charisma of one of the Premier League’s most feared sporting directors.

Double world champion is 14 titles from darts legend’s record but talented youngsters or even Littler himself could stall his quest

Luke Littler looked up and down the rows of filled seats, the line of microphones pointed at his mouth, the expectant faces hanging on his every word. This has long been one of his least favourite parts of the job, a fact he scarcely bothers to conceal. Occasionally everyone has to sit and wait while he sends a text. He leaves as soon as he is legitimately able. But there is of course a silver lining: if he’s sitting in the hot seat, it means he’s won.

“Youse are probably all bored of seeing me now,” he said. “But I’m going to be here for many more years.” And frankly, while the going is this good, why not? A second world title in a row, a 10th major trophy in just 21 attempts, the first ever £1m prize in the sport. Barry Hearn wants to get that up to £5m within the decade on a wave of Saudi investment. He’s 18 years old. Nobody in the sport is remotely as good as him. The boy is fresh and the boy is hungry and the boy is greedy.

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The winning moment seemed to drain all the strength from his body. He leaned against the drinks table and let it take all his weight, clasped his face in his hands, cried a little. As if only just feeling the shape and hue of the unspeakable thing he had just done. As if some act of great violence had just left his hands. Perhaps it had.

And before the double world champion, before the social media phenomenon, before the commercial giant, before the global icon, there was Luke Littler the darts obsessive. A kid steeped and stewed in the heritage of the game, fully aware of the landmarks he is now chasing, the tapestry of greatness into which he is now indelibly woven.

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It’s barely a couple of years since a 16-year-old Luke Littler and a 21-year-old Gian van Veen came through a 96-player field at Milton Keynes to qualify for the final of the world youth championship. There’s a charming photo of the pair of them with their arms around each other, silly little smiles plastered on to their silly little faces, the cutest high-street haircuts you’ve ever seen. Two kids at the very start of an unforgettable journey.

Did either of them foresee, in those sepia-tinted days of August 2023, that the journey would convey them this far, this fast? I reckon Littler did. There’s never been much room for doubt and scepticism in there. His whole world has been stepping up, throwing a dart and watching it go exactly where he wants it to. Four months later, he would go to Alexandra Palace and change the sport for ever.