TV View: It was a strange, whirring sound, excitably breathy. Kind of like - and it's tricky putting it into words - "whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo, WHOOOOOO". Think Thomas the Tank Engine with a chest infection.

At first it seemed like the tube in the telly was about to detonate, but then it became clear: West Ham had gone a goal up, Chelsea had gone a man down and Richard Keyes, back in the Sky Sports studio, was hyperventilating. Along the lines of: Ladies and Gentleman, we have ourselves a title race!!! Possibly the most breathtaking one since the last most breathtaking one!!!

Earlier in the week, Jose Mourinho had taken the wind out of Richard's sails by insisting that there were no Devon Lochs in Portugal, or Loch do Devons, as they'd probably call the unfortunate four-legged lad over there, if they'd ever heard of him.

Which Jose insisted they hadn't. Loch do Devon is not in any self-respecting Portuguese sporting man's vocabulary, he reassured us.

But here we were. West Ham, forever bursting bubbles, were sticking a pin in, well, Jose's bubble, while inflating Richard's. "Game on," as Richard is inclined to say when a team trailing 8-0 pulls a goal back just before half-time. Which, in many ways, is what's been happening in the Premiership the past few weeks.

And in Jamie Redknapp, who "whoo, whoo, whoo, whooed" breathlessly yesterday, Richard has a willing game-on partner. Jamie was born to be a Sky Sports pundit: he makes Niall Quinn seem scathingly callous.

Anyway, by full-time Chelsea had burst West Ham's bubble, scraping home 4-1. Richard and Jamie looked a bit deflated themselves, to the point that when Richard had to try to flog us Sky's next pay-per-view games - Manchester United v Sunderland, Bolton v Chelsea and Chelsea v Everton - not even his best second-hand- car-salesman routine could do the trick. He was a broken man, stopping just short of telling us to keep our money in our pockets. Game off?

Mind you, no one told Rob Hawthorne it was game off.

"It's 50 years since Devon Loch stumbled in the Grand National," he told us as United and Arsenal emerged in the tunnel, sticking to the metaphor, regardless. And there was Gary Neville, leading out United, trying to look mean and moody.

When one reminisced about United's previous captain, it was margarine v butter.

And when we learnt Arsene Wenger was resting Thierry "we're not worthy" Henry, you kinda guessed it was game off, for Arsenal at least.

But, well, with Wayne "we're even less worthy" Rooney, you just never know. Richard? Game on-ish, maybe, but less of your whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo, WHOOOOOOs. You'll startle Loch do Devon. But, God permit (sorry - forbid) he'll fall.

When he looks at his team's remaining fixtures, contemplates the hurdles ahead, it's hard to imagine Jose saying: "Jaysus, let me get over this and I'll be a good man, I promise you." That, though, is what Richard Pitman told us, in the BBC's Grand National preview, you can hear jockeys loudly declare as they approach the loftier of the Aintree fences.

As fate would have it, with the week that was in it, Devon Loch's jockey, Dick Francis, made an appearance on the same preview, but, 50 years later, he's still struggling to explain why his horse attempted to hurdle an imaginary fence, before landing on his tummy. In modern parlance it's called "doing a Drogba".

Come Saturday we had a fancy for Ebony Light. We didn't think he'd win the race, we just fancied him. Why? Well, we were charmed by Beryl McCain (Ginger's other half) and her account of how Ebony Light is such a wilful divil. "A quirky so-and-so, not unlike his trainer," the BBC's Clare Balding suggested. Beryl grinned. We took that as a yes.

"He really disappointed at Haydock," Beryl told us. "Planted himself, he didn't get a good break, so he sort of thought 'right'. It was like driving a car with the brakes on."

Later that afternoon. Fifth fence. Ebony Light takes a look. Brakes on.

His jockey, Steven Craine, went flying. Ebony Light drove home, Steve went to hospital.

Meanwhile, Hedgehunter, who has tasted victory before, put up a valiant, if ultimately futile, chase, finishing second.

When you think about it, short of Chelsea doing a Loch do Devon, United will be the Hedgehunter of this year's Premiership.