This season is not the greatest in Premier League history—it is a desperate fabrication by a media apparatus trying to sell a product that is buckling under its own contradictions. The coordinated campaign to brand 2025–26 as the 'best ever' reeks of nervousness, not celebration. From BBC Sport’s new end-of-season awards to pundits breathlessly calling every weekend a classic, the push is transparent: manufacture a golden narrative to distract from a league that has shipped more controversy than quality.
Look at the evidence on the pitch. The title race has been compelling only in the way a car crash is compelling. Manchester City, stripped of Rodri for half the campaign and with Kevin De Bruyne reduced to cameo appearances, stumbled through December like a side suffering from terminal fatigue. Arsenal seized the initiative, but Mikel Arteta’s squad managed the season with a statistical profile—expected goals well below title-winning metrics—that screams vulnerability rather than dominance. Meanwhile, Liverpool’s transition under Arne Slot has been a rollercoaster of high pressing and defensive lapses, and Aston Villa’s Champions League run exposed their thin squad in the league. The so-called 'best ever' season has produced exactly two teams within three points of the top after 30 matchweeks, and the chasing pack is a mirage. The middle of the table is a logjam of mediocrity—not parity, but poor quality spread thin.
Institutional chaos is the real story. The ongoing Profit and Sustainability Rules farce saw Everton deducted points only to have them restored on appeal, then fatally docked again for a separate breach—ruining the competitive integrity of the relegation fight. Nottingham Forest have spent the season litigating their roster, not competing in it. Off the pitch, the independent regulator remains a political football, the VAR system is still mangling decisions (spare a thought for Tottenham’s home defeat to Brighton where a clear penalty was missed because of a headset malfunction), and fixture scheduling now feels like a punishment for success—teams playing three times in five days in December while the league’s broadcast partners demand more midweek windows. This is not excellence; it is entropy.
Pundits who wring their hands about entertainment should admit the truth: drama is not the same as quality. Yes, there have been brilliant moments—Cole Palmer’s hattrick against Newcastle, Bukayo Saka’s relentless consistency, Virgil van Dijk’s rearguard masterclasses—but these are highlights in a broken system, not evidence of a golden era. The push to call this the 'best season' is a desperate attempt to validate a product that is increasingly defined by legal disputes, fixture chaos, and a gaping gulf between the top two and the rest. Next season, when the Premier League expands to a 36-match calendar without addressing squad depth or player welfare, the facade will crack entirely. You will look back at this manufactured 'best season' and realize it was the moment the league stopped trying to be good—and started trying to look good.