The beast is still twitching. It seems, at the time of going to press, that it was not enough for the assembled denizens of the Premiership to line up and sink six savage dagger thrusts, one after the other, into the gnarled heart of Man United.

They live, as John Carpenter would have put it, and if Foul Play were a betting man he would be subjecting those oft-quoted odds of 10/1 on United retaining the title, given out by more than one complacent bookmaker in early December, to an agonising reappraisal.

As Foul Play is writing these words United fans are perched atop the League, looking down on the herd, the weekend’s results having gone almost perfectly to prescription. The only minor hiccup was conceding a goal to Southampton – but that hardly matters when you’ve banged in a colossal 54 goals in 22 games. That’s a whole twelve more than United’s nearest rivals in the goal-scoring chart, Arsenal and Newcastle United.

It behoves us, of course, to point out that those seven wins have been comprised of the softest run of fixtures of all time. When your most difficult assignment of the past two months has been at home to a Newcastle side which travels worse than your average shoe-bomber, you know you’re on to a good thing.

There is also the awesome form of Ruud van Nistelrooy to take into account. Not only is the lantern-jawed Dutchman scoring at will, with a goal in each of the last seven games, but he is doing it in every possible manner – a flying header here, a close-range finish there, a successful one-on-one with the keeper and, a low shot from the edge of the “D” for good measure. He hasn’t managed any overhead kicks yet, but it can only be a matter of time.

Of course, the idea of van Nistelrooy having his season terminated by, say, a late tackle from Danny Mills doesn’t bear thinking about. And in a campaign when only four other United players have produced good form week in, week out (Solskjær, Butt, Gary Neville and the incomparable Keane), it is slightly worrying that so much seems to depend on the form of one man, especially in view of Andy Cole being sold to Blackburn the other week.

I’m sure that Liverpool know the feeling, having watched their season start to disintegrate as a result of nothing more cataclysmic than Michael Owen’s hamstrings playing up again.

They could still drag themselves back into the race in earnest, through sheer will alone, as United have done, but after watching their inept, plot-free efforts against Southampton the other night, one would not bet large amounts of money on it.

Liverpool’s current predicament is as much about stylistics as about results, which is especially pleasing for United supporters. After years of disliking them for tribally-minded reasons, we can now slag them on aesthetic grounds as well.

This is something which has not always been possible with previous Liverpool sides, such as, for example, Roy Evans’ rickety but frequently beguiling outfit of the mid-1990s.

Yet the most striking thing about the current Liverpool outfit is not so much their deficiences in technique (although this will always be a factor when Danny Murphy is on the premises), but the utter absence of enterprise in their play.

Their lack of proper wide players has been well documented, but in recent weeks there hasn’t been much happening through the middle either. And if Owen isn’t on the pitch, or if they go a goal down, their sense of disorientation and panic is palpable.

Some observers have bemoaned the fact that Heskey isn’t getting the service, obligingly ignoring the fact that on the rare occasions he does get the service, he tends to respond by letting the ball rebound off his shins to safety.

Indeed, the mind reels at what sort of predicament Liverpool would be in if they did not have Jerzy Dudek, palpably the best keeper playing in the Premiership, at their disposal.

On the plus side, the loan signing of Nicolas Anelka might just be the spark that Liverpool’s ailing, Owen-less attack needs, with the controversial one potentially acting as the catalyst that can fire the Reds back to the summit of the Premiership. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

Listen, I was joking. There would probably be a better argument for dragging Ian Rush out of retirement, or re-signing Paul Walsh or Dean Saunders, rather than throwing Anelka, of all people, into a team that currently needs all the help it can get.

But who am I, as a United fan, to talk? No sooner have they re-established themselves as viable championship contenders (and, indeed, favourites), with the most fearsome forward line in the country, than they go off in search of the signature of that renowned liberal humanist and peace-loving guy, Paolo Di Canio. If it ain’t broke, as the saying goes, break it.

That doesn’t quite ring right, does it?