Score: Forest 0 - 3 Chelsea

Honestly, I was surprised Ange made it into the dressing room after the game before being sacked. The way he stood at the center circle applauding the fans, the few that remained anyway, shows he knew what was coming his way. While not the shortest tenure of a Premier League manager, that has to be the quickest post game sacking. With the news being broken to the media just 18 minutes after the full time whistle had gone.

It all could have gone so differently. Chelsea started the game with a rotated squad in their most charitable mood. Gifting chance after chance to Forest from the most ridiculous turn overs. Only Forest’s profligacy kept this game from being put to bed before the half-hour mark. You might excuse Awoniyi, just returning after a horrific injury that saw him placed into a medical induced coma to aid recovery. Gibbs-White and Anderson really should be putting those chances away. That a professional footballer of Anderson’s ability can’t (or won’t) strike a ball with their “weak” foot is appalling. Once he cuts back inside the chance is always gone. Similarly, I would expect Gibbs-White to have curled that 20 yard effort into the top corner such his is skill level.

For all their "dominance” as the pundits were calling it, Forest did not force Sanchez into a single save in the half. Chelsea had just as many opportunities to open the scoring towards the end of the half as Forest did to start. Santos missed getting himself a brace and likely taking home the match ball. While the knockdown from Joao Pedro wasn’t the easiest of chances, he has the ability to have gotten that on target. Then he slots the ball just wide of the post when through on goal. Perhaps Gusto’s presences throws him off, but you’d like to see those end up off the post and into the back of the net.

Maresca rang the changes at half time, bringing on Caicedo/Gittens/Guiu for the ineffective Santos/Garnacho/Lavia. Immediate impact was felt with Acheampong getting on the end of a Neto cross. Guiu’s combativeness and presences drawing in a second defender which left Josh wide open for a chance he couldn’t miss. Guiu was a reminder of why Joao Pedro is better as a withdrawn striker than an attacking focal point. He does a lot of things very well, but most of them happen by dropping off the front line and getting involved in the buildup. A quick fire second from provider turned scorer Neto and the game was done and dusted. Though there was still time for Forest to hit the bar and post through Igor Jesus, Reece to add a third, and for Chelsea to pick up their customary sending off.

I’ll always remember Ange’s 39 days in charge of Forest. Played 8, drew 2, won 0. Truly remarkable. I feel for Ange, but I have to question his decision making. This was always going to end this way, and he should have been able to see that.

Score: Seagulls 2 - 1 Magpies

Quite possibly the best game of the weekend. Two teams going after it. No prisoners taken, no holds barred. Just hammer and tongs. You love to see teams unafraid to lose in the interests of scoring goals and winning games.

This was Premier League football at its most honest — open, frenetic, and gloriously unpredictable. Both sides had their moments. Brighton edged possession (55 %) and slightly surpassed Newcastle in shot count (17 – 15). The expected-goals told the story: ~2.1 to ~1.9 in Brighton’s favour — essentially a dead heat. Both keepers were excellent: Bart Verbruggen made several strong low-saves to deny Woltemade and Anthony Gordon, while Nick Pope kept Newcastle in it when Danny Welbeck and Diego Gómez looked increasingly threatening.

The victory lifts Brighton not only into the top half of the table, but above their vanquished foes in Newcastle. That it was that man Welbeck doing it to Newcastle again must have been sickening for Eddie Howe. Welbeck seems to be aging like a fine French wine. I’ve always said, 34 is when strikers really come into their prime…

But this was far from a one-man show. Carlos Baleba and Yasin Ayari zipped about midfield, pressing, recycling possession and making numbers happen. In defence, Jan Paul van Hecke and Lewis Dunk were solid, underlining that Brighton’s spine is more than just attack. Newcastle’s midfield, to their credit, matched the intensity — Bruno Guimarães snapping into tackles, Sandro Tonali trying to dictate tempo, and Gordon down the flank continuing his rich vein of form. If either team deserved to win, it was whichever one you happened to be rooting for.

What separated them in the end was simply execution. Brighton were that touch more ruthless when it mattered. Newcastle’s defending for the decisive goal was a touch too generous — a loose clearance, a quick Brighton interchange, and Welbeck doing what Welbeck does: ghosting into space and finishing like it’s 2014 all over again.

Both sides left everything out there. Combined, they racked up 28 shots, 15 corners, and nearly 1,000 passes. Yet somehow, it never felt like a sterile possession game. Every attack had intent, every counter had danger. This was one of those games that remind you why mid-table Premier League clashes can be better entertainment than half the so-called “big six” matchups.

A huge win for Brighton, a hard pill to swallow for Newcastle, but nobody came out of this one looking poor. Just two very good sides throwing haymakers until one finally landed clean.

Score: Burnley 2 - 0 Leeds

Burnley edged the result 2-0 at home, and yes that paperwork makes the box look neat, but it wasn’t simply that they were better — it’s that they were sharper when it counted. Leeds had periods of promise, but lacked the end product and bit of resistance you needed when Burnley forced the pace.

Let’s talk data. Burnley averaged roughly 7.5 shots per match in the Premier League this season, with about 2.63 on target per game. Their goals-scored average was around 1.13 per game. Defensively things haven’t been pretty: they’ve conceded around 1.88 goals per game. On the other side, Leeds’ broader stats show they scored just 7 goals in their first 8 matches (≈ 0.88 per game) and conceded 13 (≈ 1.63 per game). So if you look at the numbers, this should have been a match where Leeds could dominate territory, maybe possession, apply pressure — but Burnley’s ruthlessness in key moments made the difference.

In the game itself, the first breakthrough came in the 18th minute: a beautifully delivered cross by Kyle Walker that found Lesley Ugochukwu’s header, and just like that Burnley were ahead. Leeds reacted, tried to settle, but never really grabbed control. Then in the 68th minute, Burnley’s substitute Loum Tchaouna unleashed a blast from range — a moment of individual brilliance that sealed it.

Importantly, the possession stat from the match: Leeds had about 68.9 % possession, Burnley just 31.1 %. Yet despite that clear advantage for Leeds, the shot attempts were lopsided: Leeds had 19 attempts, Burnley just 4. And corners? Leeds 5, Burnley 1. Same story. But the thing is — when Burnley did attack, it had purpose. When Leeds attacked, it lacked the bite. That disjunction is what separates “you had the ball” versus “you made the ball count”.

What stood out: Burnley’s transition speed. After going ahead, they didn’t just sit on it — they hunted. Leeds, by contrast, spent a lot of time trying to build, to dominate possession, but got pinned and couldn’t manufacture the moment to pull one back. If you’re Leeds you’ll feel you were the better team on paper, but football’s odd that way — the side who did the business when opportunities arrived got the spoils.

Another note: Leeds’ attacking stat-line is weak for a side that’d just come up and hoped to hit the ground running. When you score less than one goal per game and concede over one and a half, you’re always at risk — particularly against a team as motivated as Burnley. Conversely, Burnley’s defensive frailties loom large, but in this match they found a way to compensate.

All told: a win for Burnley that lifts belief, though it doesn’t erase the underlying issues. For Leeds, a frustrating afternoon — possession and quantity were there, quality and final act much less so. This one had plenty of storylines, and while it might not go down as a classic in the long run, it felt real. Grit, goals, and a damned-fine finish.

Score: Palace 3 - 3 Bournemouth

Absolute madness at Selhurst Park. A six-goal thriller that had everything — defensive chaos, attacking brilliance, late drama, and one man who almost single-handedly dragged Palace to victory. This wasn’t just a game; it was a full-blown Premier League fever dream.

Bournemouth came out like a team who fancied embarrassing someone. Inside ten minutes, 19-year-old Eli Junior Kroupi had the ball in the net — a header that left Johnstone flapping at air. Palace were a mess at the back, unable to cope with Bournemouth’s energy or directness. Then Kroupi did it again, finishing off a slick counter and making it 2-0 before Palace had even settled. At that stage, the home fans were already grumbling, and you couldn’t blame them.

But something clicked after the break. Palace started playing forward instead of safe. The tempo changed, the tackles started flying, and Bournemouth suddenly looked human. Jean-Philippe Mateta — who can be either unstoppable or invisible — decided this was going to be one of those days. First came the glancing header to make it 2-1. Then, barely five minutes later, he spun his marker and lashed home the equaliser. Two goals in quick succession and the whole mood flipped on its head. Bournemouth, shell-shocked, just tried to hang on.

The first standout moment came just after the restart — Mateta’s second goal, a classic striker’s finish after a clever through ball had cut Bournemouth open. The way he took it, one touch to steady, one to smash, was pure confidence. The second came in the 89th minute when Ryan Christie pounced on a rebound and, against the run of play, put Bournemouth back in front. It felt cruel. Palace had done everything to claw it back, only to be undone by a scrappy goal and a deflection that wrong-footed Johnstone.

Then, just when you thought that was that, Selhurst Park exploded. Deep into stoppage time, Guéhi was bundled over in the box. No hesitation from the referee. Mateta grabbed the ball, shoved off a couple of curious teammates, and buried the penalty like he’d been waiting his whole life for that moment. Hat-trick complete. 3-3. Pandemonium.

And yet — there was still one more twist. Virtually the last kick of the game, the ball fell perfectly to Mateta again inside the six-yard box. The script was written. The fairytale ending teed up. But instead of rolling it in, he leant back and ballooned it over the bar. You could feel the collective gasp turn into laughter, disbelief, and heartbreak all at once.

By the end, both managers looked exhausted, and rightly so. It was chaos, but the good kind — the kind that reminds you why we watch football in the first place. Bournemouth will be furious they didn’t win it. Palace will feel like they might have. And Mateta — well, he’ll remember this one for a long time. A hat-trick hero who could have been a legend, if only that final touch had stayed down.

Score: City 2 - 0 Everton

Manchester City dispatched Everton 2-0 at the Etihad with Erling Haaland's second-half brace proving the difference.

The first half was a tactical stalemate. Everton, despite missing Jack Grealish due to his loan from City, showed resilience, with Beto squandering two clear chances—one from a tight angle and another from a rebound—both denied by Gianluigi Donnarumma. City's best first-half opportunity came from Savinho, whose angled shot was parried by Jordan Pickford. Phil Foden's follow-up header narrowly missed the target.

The deadlock was broken in the 58th minute. Nico O'Reilly delivered a precise cross from the right, allowing Haaland to head in from close range. Just five minutes later, Savinho's cutback found Haaland, who slotted home with his left foot, extending his scoring streak to 11 consecutive matches.

City dominated possession with 71% and registered 23 shots, seven on target, compared to Everton's five shots, one on target. Despite Everton's early pressure, they failed to capitalize, while City's attacking depth and Haaland's clinical finishing secured the win.

This victory propels Manchester City to second place in the Premier League standings, just behind Arsenal. Everton, despite a commendable start to the season, remain in mid-table, reflecting the gap in quality between the two sides.

Score: Sunderland 2 - 0 Wolves

Sunderland’s game was a study in opportunism. Wolves looked sharp early, forcing a save from McLaughlin in the 8th minute, but Sunderland struck first with a moment that caught everyone off guard: a loose back pass intercepted by a lunging striker, finishing with poise. Wolves tried to respond, hitting the post in the 25th minute and spurning another one-on-one chance before half-time. The second goal came from a counter that had everything — a long ball over the top, a perfectly timed run, and a calm finish under pressure. Wolves’ frustration was visible: a misjudged tackle in the 67th minute drew a yellow, and their desperate scramble left gaps that Sunderland exploited with near-misses, forcing saves from Ruddy in quick succession. The narrative was clear: Sunderland pounced at the moments that mattered; Wolves paid for their lapses

Score: Fulham 0 - 1 Arsenal

As the song goes “One nil to the Arsenal”.

Tense, tight, and measured, this was the kind of game where every touch mattered. Fulham defended bravely, blocking shots, pressing when they could, and throwing themselves into every challenge. Arsenal chipped away with patience, but the breakthrough didn’t come until the 73rd minute: a corner whipped in, perfectly met by Leandro Trossard, who found the back of the net with ruthless precision. Not flashy, just clinical — and enough to win the day.

Arsenal’s defensive record is now extraordinary. They’re on pace to equal Chelsea’s Premier League record of 15 goals conceded in a season. For the past decade, we haven’t seen a backline this disciplined, this unflappable. Every tackle, interception, and aerial duel seems perfectly timed. Couple that with their deadliness from set pieces — corners, free kicks, you name it — and it’s clear this is more than a good team: it’s a defensive juggernaut.

Fulham had their moments. A curling effort skimmed past the post, a header forced a sharp save from Bernd Leno, and a late corner almost produced an equalizer. Yet Arsenal’s composure never wavered. They soaked up pressure, absorbed chaos, and struck when it mattered. If they continue like this, they might not just equal records — they could be unstoppable as league champions this season. A perfect mix of poise, structure, and menace.

Score: Spurs 1 - 2 Villa

Villa walked into Tottenham’s backyard and reminded everyone that their resurgence under Unai Emery is real. Every touch, every pressing trap, every counterattack felt purposeful. Emery’s side are building something quietly terrifying — organized, hungry, and ruthless at the right moments. This wasn’t just a win; it was a statement.

Spurs, by contrast, feel eerily familiar to anyone who’s watched Brentford over the past few seasons. Under Frank, Tottenham have become a team almost impossible to predict: they win games they probably shouldn’t and lose games they should. Tonight was textbook. They dominated possession at times, probed down the wings, created chances, even found the net through Kane’s header — but it wasn’t enough. Villa absorbed it, struck when the opportunity came, and snatched the points.

The winning goal was a picture of timing and composure. A diagonal ball split Spurs’ defense, a perfectly timed run behind the back line, and the finish was clinical. Tottenham’s frustration was palpable, body language screaming disbelief, the crowd restless, players searching for answers. Villa, calm and composed, didn’t even seem to notice the chaos they were leaving behind.

Watching Spurs now, it’s hard to tell them apart from Brentford in terms of pattern. Entertaining, chaotic, unpredictable — a team that makes football nervously exciting for their own fans. Meanwhile, Emery’s Villa continue to rise, quietly collecting points, forcing a sense of inevitability that they might just be the real story this season.

Score: Liverpool 1 - 2 Manchester United

Anfield thought it had earned itself a draw. The crowd was rising, the rhythm was building, Liverpool had found their equalizer, and for a brief, shining moment, it felt like the game might end in compromise. And then Harry Maguire happened.

I’m contractually obligated to say that United went into the second half at Anfield with a lead for the first time in a decade. That fact alone should make every neutral smirk, but the bigger story is Maguire himself. Where would United be if they just let him play center forward every week? All he does is score big goals. It’s funny — he’s redeemed his reputation not by excelling as a center half, his supposed position, but because he is an absolute, unstoppable force in the opposition’s penalty box. One towering header later and Liverpool’s hopes evaporated.

The malaise around Liverpool deepens. They look devoid of ideas, lacking the rhythm and invention we saw last season. Mo Salah, previously unstoppable, now seems to have aged a little too quickly; those explosive bursts and clever interplays feel fleeting. It’s almost as if last season’s magic evaporated overnight.

United, for all their flaws, have a sense of purpose here. But is this a new dawn, or just another false one? Their next test will tell us more — Brighton, historically a thorn in their side over the last few seasons, await. That clash might finally answer the question: is this United team on the rise, or are we indulging in yet another cruel illusion of hope?

As for Liverpool, the cracks are showing. The tension in their passing, the lack of creativity in the final third, the frustration in the eyes of their front line — it all adds up to a side that feels trapped by its own past brilliance. Anfield still roars, but you can almost hear the doubt creeping in.

Score: Hammers 0 - 2 Brentford

West Ham might have been a good team with a bad manager, or a good team with the wrong manager. Tonight, they just looked like a bad team. There’s no disguise, no nuance — just a side struggling to make anything work under Nuno. Perhaps his magic only works on every other appointment — Wolves good, Spurs bad, Forest good, West Ham bad? Something is off.

Brentford, by contrast, are quietly rounding into form. Three wins under Keith Andrews now, and they’re looking like a team that knows exactly what it wants to do on the pitch. It’s not pretty all the time, but it’s effective. The standout? Igor Thiago. The kid took a little time to get up to speed in the Premier League, but he has found fourth gear, and watching him fly past defenders, timing runs, and finishing with lethal precision is a delight. I’d put him right alongside Mateta as one of the best strikers in the division who are massively undervalued and under-respected. Either of these fellas could be starting every week for Chelsea, Arsenal, or United right now and nobody would blink.

The game itself followed that script. West Ham huffed and puffed, trying to create something, but Brentford soaked it up, broke on the counter, and struck twice. The first goal came from a well-timed through ball that Thiago finished with composure. The second was the kind of clinical move that separates good teams from bad ones — a quick transition, precise delivery, and a calm finish that left the West Ham defence scrambling.

By the final whistle, it was clear: Brentford are quietly becoming a problem for anyone in the top half. West Ham? They’re still searching for answers, and tonight, they didn’t find any.