Another week, another win. Chelsea are in danger of looking like serious contenders, having been written off by all and sundry ahead of this unpredictable season.
Surely United should be pressing City at this stage, while Arsenal, Spurs and Liverpool pant in their wake.
Instead, a 2-0 victory at Southampton – a place which prides itself on being mean with points for visitors – keeps the Blues up with the hunt.
Meanwhile (as any Chelsea fan could have told the Mancs), Jose Mourinho is busy imploding.
When things stopped going his way at Stamford Bridge, the Special One – fortified by a new four-year contract that defied all his past working record – stepped back and waited for the bullet.
He left SW6 in disarray, but Tony Conte has galvanised the troops and, via his heart-on-my-sleeve matchday cavorting, shown he really cares.
He's a man on a mission, while Jose's mission seems to be in tatters.
At Old Trafford, a brooding, rosy-cheeked, scowling Scottish presence continues to gaze down from the VIP seats, resenting the fact anyone is so much as trying to replace him.
How United must wish they'd deferred Fergie's retirement, instead of hiring a high-maintenance prima donna who basks in glory when things are going well, but who has evidently lost the midas touch when things aren't.
Conte is quietly going about his work at the Bridge.
Though demonstrative and animated on matchday, the rest of the time he is so softly spoken that everyone has to crane closer to catch the bon mots.
Fans are warming to him, and enjoy the slightly stilted use of English that is becoming his trademark.
Well they recall the early days of Claudio Ranieri and Gianluca Vialli, when the latter once blithely announced that Chelsea would do well "when the fish is down".
"I believe the phrase is 'When the chips are down', Luca."
Shrug. Smile. And another heart won.
The views expressed in this blog are those of the author and unless specifically stated are not necessarily those of the Hammersmith & Fulham Council.
