PREMIER LEAGUE:Alex Ferguson's decision to rest six elite players against Chelsea was ludicrously half-baked

MANCHESTER'S red-blooded types have a name for Alex Ferguson. Given he accumulates winners' medals like most mere mortals collect milk bottle tops, "The Wizard" is hardly an ill-deserved moniker, yet you do not have to be a JK Rowling aficionado to know that even the most grizzled sorcerers are liable to see experiments blow up in their faces.

Sure enough, last weekend, Ferguson was less wily warlock and more nutty professor. Deciding to rest - or drop, as it used to be called - six of Manchester United's elite players for a visit to their nearest rivals may have seemed an awfully clever idea when it was dreamed up in the Scot's bunker at Carrington, but in the sunny, springtime glare of Stamford Bridge, it was exposed as ludicrously half-baked: optimistic at best, and downright arrogant at worst.

In ignoring one of life's more indisputable truisms - that suckers should never be handed an even break - Ferguson might just have given Chelsea's flickering, faltering hopes a shot of adrenalin, just when they could have been killed off for good.

In conjuring terms, it was akin to reaching into a top hat only to discover the rabbit had long since bounced to freedom.

Nobody at Old Trafford will be panicking just yet. United's remaining matches - against West Ham on Saturday and at Wigan on the final day - are tricky rather than treacherous, but their anaemic performance in west London was yet another reminder of why their eventual coronation will have a faintly unreal air.

It might seem incongruous, given United have scored more, conceded fewer and scalped the best teams with more frequency than any of their rivals, but this will still have the feel of a championship awarded by default, secured as much by the blundering of their opponents than their own quality.

There is certainly nobody at Old Trafford who can claim with any certainty that Ferguson's team would now be in control of their own destiny in the title race had Arsene Wenger not stubbornly refused to tap into Arsenal's vast reserves of wealth in January, or Chelsea not indulged in so much self-flagellation over the appointment of Avram Grant.

Moreover, in a bizarrely topsy-turvy season, almost all the accolades associated with title winners can be awarded to the also-rans.

Arsenal, in their early-season incarnation at least, have played the year's the most luminous football, while Chelsea have displayed the most bloody-minded resilience.

The division's most potent forward might be sporting a red-shirt and hail from one end of the East Lancs road, but that honour goes to Liverpool's Fernando Torres, and while few would quibble with seeing a veteran of more than 20 years experience named manager of the year, the golden oldie in question is Harry Redknapp, not Ferguson.

Even the coronation of the remarkable Cristiano Ronaldo at last night's PFA awards comes with a caveat, for this is one luminous talent who still shines brightest only against the lesser lights.

It hardly needs to be said that United have been less convincing in retaining their title this season than in regaining it last year. There is no shame in being squeezed out at Stamford Bridge, even if the damage is largely self-inflicted, but any side which is beaten twice by Manchester City and once by West Ham and Bolton is hardly untouchable.

This penchant for prat-falls is to be welcomed as only the driest of statisticians can be truly engrossed by an all-conquering side. Jose Mourinho was so bored by Chelsea's second title triumph under his stewardship that he threw away his Premier League medal, while Roy Keane noted bitterly in his autobiography how routine success sapped United of hunger and drive at the turn of the century.

But for an arch-perfectionist such as Ferguson, these inconsistencies must be maddening, not least because they prevent a thrillingly talented team taking their place in the pantheon of all-time great sides at Old Trafford. And while the class of 2008 might be tender in years, their Treble-winning predecessors - the side of Butt, Beckham, Scholes and Neville - did not allow their youth to blunt a razor-sharp cutting edge.

In the meantime, United have to rediscover their discipline and their focus.

The tawdry post-match scenes involving Chelsea's ground staff and stewards on Saturday were irrelevant in the grand scheme of things but they were also symptomatic of a side which has allowed their minds to become befuddled by the pressures which always accompany the season's final furlong.

At least they do not have to wait long to atone, for nothing will sharpen minds or stoke ambitions more efficiently than the visit of Barcelona to Old Trafford tomorrow.

A victory over the Catalans would heal some of the wounds suffered in west London on Saturday and restore Ferguson's magic touch, and not a moment too soon.