The Premier League Awards: Antonio, Drinkwater & Mata

This article originally appeared on VICE Sports UK.

Not gonna lie: it's getting pretty boring writing about how unpredictable the Premier League is this season. If anything, it's now become predictably unpredictable, like Lady Gaga on a red carpet. With less than 10 games to go, Leicester City are still the only team that actually look capable of winning the title, while the bottom clubs' performances continue to display all the coherence of a Donald Trump speech.

It's spreading, too: West Ham have forgotten that they're due a relegation and are chasing Champions League football, that Conor McGregor lad everyone loves got mashed up something silly, and the nicest man in sport got himself a red card. The world has been tipped upside down, so if there's ever been a time to make your basement comfortable and stock up on tinned goods, it's now – we're fucked if we know what's coming our way next.

People seem to have taken one look at the name 'Michail Antonio' and assumed that he's either a) one of those foreigners, coming over here and playing better football than us, or b) a made-up marquee signing from Dream Team that's somehow crossed over in to the real world. In truth, he's neither. Having been bought from Nottingham Forest after an impressive spell in the Championship last season, Antonio is actually from North London, not Naples.

Antonio's recent goal against Sunderland saw him perform his brilliant Homer Simpson-inspired celebration

Usually a skilled, goal-scoring winger in his mould would be getting heavily linked with an outside shot at a place in the England squad for the Euros, but he's not really had any of that. Oddly, it seems, the tabloid press might've actually learned from their Shaun Wright-Phillips, Aaron Lennon, Theo Walcott, Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain, Stuart Downing, Andros Townsend, David Bentley-shaped mistakes of the past. Or, more likely, they think he's Italian too.

Like Antonio, West Ham have flown under the radar this term, with the fairytale rhetoric already at breaking thanks to Leicester and Tottenham. But the Hammers are currently well within a shout of gatecrashing the top-four party and you wouldn't bet against them on current form. For evidence of this, see Saturday's comeback from 2-0 down to beat Everton 3-2.

If it wasn't for Vardy, Marhez, Alli, Kane and the rest of the funky bunch, Antonio would be the subject of hot take after hot take; instead he's ended up being the Greg Rutherford of the Premier League.

The beauty of Danny Drinkwater is that, if he were presented in an identity parade, it'd be almost impossible to point him out with any confidence. Shielding his face with an affected limp, he's the Keyser Söze of the Leicester operation, secretly running things from midfield with a quiet efficiently, while others grab the headlines he might well deserve himself.

One of the many hundreds of Manchester United academy graduates in the league who failed to make an impression on the senior team under Ferguson, he should be dubbed the Poundland Pogba. Technically proficient, an excellent passer of the ball at almost any range and competent in defence too, he's been the perfect foil for the ever-impressive N'Golo Kante, who's made his own headlines after fitting into the Premier League like hand to glove after being plucked from France for pocket fluff.

In truth, Drinkwater has proved more intelligent in Leicester's jaunt towards the title than the likes of Steven Gerrard ever managed. He doesn't hit Hollywood passes with half a mind on watching them back on Match of the Day that evening, he isn't shooting on site and trying to be a hero, ultimately working against his team in the process. No, he's a functional cog in a mightily impressive machine, and more than happy to be no more. Understated and professional, he's the type of player you want to see being rewarded for hard work by winning the title – fingers crossed he doesn't slip in the process…

Juan Mata is that kid from school who came for a sleepover years ago and is still your parents' go-to "why can't you be more like…?" when shit hits the fan. He's the one lad who has never taken a puff of a fag, didn't miss homework, and brings in gifts at the end of every term for the teachers. He blogs earnestly, smiles at strangers, and gives money to those in need. So when news came through that he'd been sent off, something seemed very wrong, like in Gone Girl after the twist.

Two first-half yellow cards against West Brom blotted Juan's perfect record. We're not angry, just disappointed. Before that sending off, Manchester United were bounding back up the league, but being a man light for most of the game at the Hawthorns was too great a task. For once, "he's not that type of player" is actually appropriate, but that doesn't undo the mistakes of the past. This is your one Juan, but don't let us down again – we're counting on you.

@bainsxiii