Five Reasons to Watch Football This Weekend

Hull–Liverpool is probably the most important fixture of this round of games, with Liverpool the only team left who have a vague chance of breaking into the top four and Hull looking to survive by any means necessary. We've poured several out for Steve Bruce in the past few weeks, but Rodgers might be the one who looks most vulnerable here. Again. Yet again.

After last season's ludicrous charge ended with a total inability to cope without Luis Suarez, Rodgers did what many other managers fail to do: he changed his system, he adapted, and he made it work again. He was rightly praised for doing so. Unfortunately, the new system's effectiveness lasted about ten games, and Rodgers has reverted back to the classic Liverpool of the 2010s, where the defeats come when the possibility for embarrassment is at its peak. To Tim Sherwood. To ruin your retiring captain's birthday.

It might reflect poorly on Rodgers, but his new plan was only ever a desperate move in trying times. The post-Suarez transition was handled terribly – there has been no wider plan about Liverpool this season, a complete lack of direction, and all of their signings have been disastrous. Some of that, we hear, is not entirely Rodgers' fault, so he deserves another summer at it. But if Liverpool lose this, and let their top four challenge expire without so much as a whimper, and Jurgen Klopp is interested… it would be pretty ruthless, but they might not be able to afford not to.

Arsene Wenger has never defeated José Mourinho. It's a simple fact of life, and not a very surprising statistic, because the latter appears as though he was designed in some secret laboratory specifically to counter him. They're opposites, but not in a yin and yang sort of way – more in the way that a schoolgirl on a bicycle is the opposite of a Russian T-34 tank. It's a one-sided form of dualism.

But in the constant weirdness-to-no-avail-or-interest of this season, there's the slightest chance that could change tomorrow. Chelsea are, deliberately or not, toying with their opponents as they cruise through the last few fixtures towards an inevitable title, and as they trot towards the finish line there's a chance for Arsenal – considered title challengers themselves for about 40 minutes two weeks ago – to claim a rare scalp. Wenger has already beaten United this season, and he might well be up for one more meaningless victory.

Whether he's really getting closer, of course, is debatable. I've said before he was on an exponential curve, forever approaching a title-winning team but on such a trajectory that it was clear he'd never get there, and this year is no different. The successes have been the rediscovery of Mesut Ozil and the addition of Alexis Sanchez, but the confirmation of Aaron Ramsey and Jack Wilshere as world-class players is looking increasingly far away. On the bar chart of Arsenal's form, the two constants remain the same: the inability to rely on Olivier Giroud in a big game, and the complete lack of a coherent defence. The big questions still remain unanswered, but form prevails – the most likely scenario here, then, is an Arsenal win, ending the streak and hailing Wenger as next year's title favourite. Meanwhile, Chelsea trundle on, Mourinho calmly scoops up his winners medal, and next year the Blues improve at an even faster rate.

Leicester have looked like the waifish, unwanted child of an otherwise interesting relegation battle for most of the season. But it wasn't meant to be like this: they were supposed to have a couple of fun players in Anthony Knockaert and Riyad Mahrez, with Esteban Cambiasso lending a weird touch of star quality, followed by the arrival of a big-money striker in January. Instead we've had David Nugent toiling away to no avail, while all the cool kids stay hanging out with Sean Dyche.

So while there's certainly the resources for a fightback, it couldn't have been more unexpected. Leicester looked dead on their feet, beyond even the point where sacking Pearson wouldn't have just looked embarrassing. But the survival of such men has been a weird feature of the relegation battle so far.

In seasons past, it's unthinkable that Pearson, Bruce, and maybe even Dyche would be in a job. This is a relegation battle characterised by those who did and did not stick with their managerial decisions, with the ones who canned their original coaches for the usual late-season boost away from the drop (your Sunderlands, your West Broms, your QPRs) not really succeeding in doing so – with the obvious exception, of course, in the fun-but-doomed substitute PE teacher form of Tim Sherwood.

On the other side, there's Pearson. Pearson doesn't really come across as likeable – he seems belligerent, and it's hard to imagine even his wife doesn't see his constant half-smirk, as though someone's perennially behind Guy Mowbray miming anal sex, as a face she'd never get sick of slapping. But he looks like he might, unfeasibly, pull survival out of the bag. No part of this league makes any sense.

David Moyes can't really catch a break from United fans. There have been some attempts to redeem his name this season – be it the good work he's doing in Spain, pointing out the success of the players he signed, or examining Everton's struggles without him – but all have fallen on deaf ears. There are none so deaf as those who will not hear, or a United fan who is weirdly infatuated with an old Dutch man.

And so the Moyes spectre could finally be vanquished here, with an Everton–United ruck that sees both squad bear his thumbprints but controlled by different men; two visions of what could have been. Van Gaal could've been in serious trouble earlier in the season, but an unforeseeable run has now left him in a position of solid competence with one or two worries, a far better image projected than his predecessor. Everton, despite spells where they have been widely shit, will survive. United can't win the league or fuck up the top four race now, just as Everton won't end up in Europe or the Championship, so this is a more or less completely meaningless game.

But there is a tiny glimmer of hope. There's a threat that Falcao and Di Maria might come off the bench and orchestrate the exciting, brilliant clusterfuck that the squad looks like it should be on paper, pushing Phil Jonesalikes aside to sky high shots over the bar or dribble around 11 men before falling over their own legs. If United revert to the three goals forward, four goals back form of early season, we could at least have a few thrills out of what is essentially now a meaningless friendly.

Mauricio Pochettino returns to the team where he made his name in England, and it's quite a sad affair. With City looking to have just avoided catastrophe, so we have two teams in the same position, just two rungs down the ladder: dreaming about what might have been in the top four race, wondering if they'll ever get a chance as easy as this again, cursing some 1-1 draw against relegation fodder long-forgotten by the rest of us.

Spurs might look like they have far more right to be disappointed than Southampton, whom nobody expected to be here, and that would be correct. But in truth, they've done much the same thing since the hedonism of the Redknapp years – spent what they've earned, often not even that, on player sales. The first difference is that Southampton sold half their team, and Spurs sold Gareth Bale. The second difference is that Southampton managed to cope rather better without half their team than Spurs did with one Welsh winger.

Southampton are probably not going to finish as high as this for a long time to come, and Spurs are going to face the prospect of the top four tightening their game and improvement on Merseyside getting in the way. Both are on their way back to the Europa League, whose novelty wears off faster than your fun boss does on Comic Relief day. They tried, but ultimately, they failed. They will draw 1-1.

@Callum_TH

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