I felt for Arsenal fans after that bonkers red card against Wolves – but their reaction to it was about as irrational and embarrassing as any given Robert Sanchez performance (more on that later).
If you missed it, Michael Oliver sent Myles Lewis-Skelly off for a soft, but admittedly rash, counter-attack-preventing challenge about 14 miles from Arsenal's goal. Cue the sort of manic delirium that wouldn't look out of place at a Just Stop Oil rally.
With all the logic and self-awareness of Lewis Hamilton lecturing the world about carbon emissions while driving a 200mph pollution machine, Gunners fans took to social media in droves to cry conspiracy and foul play. It was a controversial decision, sure. But conspiracy? That's about as far-fetched as the idea of Arsenal winning the Champions League.
Peak lunacy came when they accused Newcastle-supporting Oliver of risking his career by purposely ensuring that not Declan Rice or William Saliba, but rather teenage utility left-back Lewis-Skelly was suspended so he'd miss the trip to St James' Park next week. 'Yeah... take that, Mikel Arteta'.
Arsenal supporters are approaching James Corden-levels of insufferableness. Everyone is against them, nothing is their fault, and they deserve to have absolutely everything. They're the Meghan Markle of fanbases.
Just when you thought Todd Boehly's Chelsea might finally be shedding their clown costumes, Robert Sanchez steps up, honks his nose, and drenches those hopes with a full seltzer bottle of chaos against Manchester City.
The Blues have somehow managed to find a keeper who's both a liability with his feet and his hands, and handed him a seven-year contract to boot. That's like hiring a chef who's allergic to salt to run your steakhouse.
It isn't just Sanchez though. Chelsea have as good a taste in goalies as Manchester United do in managers. They've spent nearly £100million on the buggers since 2022 alone, and are about as close to having a decent No. 1 as Olly Murs.
By contrast, the new arrivals have made the signing of Kepa Arrizabalaga look sensible, which is like making Harry Maguire look sexy, or Trent Alexander-Arnold look good at defending.
If Chelsea don't immediately chuck their transfer plans away like Sanchez chucks balls into the path of his opponents and prioritise an elite goalkeeper in the next window then they're loopier than Ricky 'I talk to glasses of water' Lambert.
Nothing grinds my gears like footballers giving it large after scoring goals when the situation definitely doesn't call for it. Case in point: the pathetic scenes we were treated to at Crystal Palace vs Brentford on Sunday.
Firstly, fresh from missing a penalty seconds earlier, Bryan Mbeumo cupped his ears to the Palace fans after scoring the re-take, which is like burning toast then bragging when you nail the second slice.
Then, Romain Esse went full on Marco Tardelli by sprinting off for a knee slide after scoring, despite the fact there were five minutes left and Palace still needed a goal! Yes I know it was his debut, but how much of a self-absorbed div do you have to be to waste 30 crucial seconds lining up tomorrow morning's Instagram post while your team-mates are yelling at you on the halfway line?
Ladies and gentlemen, the David Brentification of football is upon us, where playing up to the cameras is more important than, you know, winning games. And it can sod right off.
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