Ladies and gentlemen, the Premier League show is nearly over, but have no fear.

The festivities are just beginning over here at BR Football Ranks.

We thought that if the PFA can cast their votes for Player of the Year in February,

then we can definitely do our awards ceremony the week before the title is decided.

So, peppering your air pods with poignant

pellets of perception for a push from the prize, which will be poured perennial into the perpetual

block for Premier League legacy. There have been screamers from Sala, scorches from Sterling,

howitzers from Hazard, and an enthralling title race for the ages. We're going to rank the whole

thing. So buckle up and hold on tight.

So deep breath. Whether you're a fan of City slick, sensational steamroller, loverpool, liquid,

lightning at Liverpool, the strange story of sort of sari ball at Stanford Bridge, stadium

swapping, sometimes superb, seesaw, spurs, Emery's aesthetic, but ailing Arsenal.

Unpredictable, uncoachable United, those wonderful wingmen from wolves, ever-inconsistent,

but enterprising Everton, Leicester's language, but electrifying lion cubs, Watford's weathered

warriors are hard and hard to beat hammers, proud, prickly palace, brave bubbly, Bournemouth, the tireless, tricky tune

army, Burnley's bold battlers, resurgent, resplendent, resouthampton, bumbling, balshy, Brighton,

Cardis, courageous but condemned cast, feebly, faltering, fullum, or Huddersfield's hearts on

sleeve heroes, or even just a casual connoisseur of this Cosmos cracking

corker of a campaign, welcome to the awards show like no other.

My name is Jack Collins, and I will be your host for these glittering star-studded awards,

handing out the trophies that every Premier League footballer wants to win, the Rankies.

Joining me are two men who know a thing or two about football ranking and awards.

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