"It's up for grabs now!!"

Un - be - fricking - lievable.

I know as an estemmed journalist of such fine wordsmithery I should be able to conjure up something better than that, but in circumstances of such ridiculous drama and incredible theatre, I don't think overdoing it with fancy language is required.  Alex Ferguson summed it up best all those years ago when Manchester United staged their own miracle: "Football...bloody hell"

United it was this time (no doubt to the schadenfreude-laden delight of many a Bayern Munich fan) who were the ones to feel the pain of having something cruelly snatched away, when it was so firmly in your grasp that to lose it was almost unthinkable.  Going into the game they knew that with City's formidable home record and QPR's rancid form on the road, there was every chance that any hope of League Title Number 20 would be extinguished by half time.

City don't tend to do things the easy way though, they never have, but even by their madcap tragicomic standards this was just phenomenal.

As if you don't know I'll recap the facts: City and United both led at the interval, but only by a single goal each.  A botched clearance from Joleon Lescott allowed Djibril Cisse in to level things up - advantage the Red Devils.  On 66 minutes a breakaway goal from QPR's Jamie Mackie had the red ribbons being laid out in preparation, and by the time 90 minutes were up they were practically on the spare just-in-case trophy at the Stadium of Light.

What followed will never, ever be forgotten.  First Edin Dzeko rose above some statuesque defending from a corner to head home and provide some hope - it looked a simple goal but in the circumstances the excellent delivery should not be overlooked, what pressure.  This had everyone on tenterhooks - one more goal and the title would be City's, but injury time was already well under way.  Sergio Aguero picked up the ball, exchanged passes with Mario Balotelli on the edge and - displaying miraculous composure to let the ball run past the outstretched leg of the despairing defender - slammed an unstoppable shot home at the near post to spark utter Blue Bedlam.

The scenes of celebration were fantastic to witness - seriously, what else in life can give this kind of drama and elicit this kind of mass hysteria in grown men and women?  I love seeing goals celebrated like that, when the entire world and all within it ceases to have any logic or meaning and you just go utterly apeshit, jumping up and down and screaming without having any control over it or ability to stop.  Brilliant, just brilliant.

The final whistle went soon after and it confirmed that Manchester City are the Premier League Champions - the first championship for their club since 1968 and the first new name on the trophy since Chelsea in 2005.  They are only the fifth team to win the Premier League and the first to do it in such incredible fashion.

The title I've used here refers to the last time things were settled in such dramatic style - 1988/89 famously saw Arsenal's Michael Thomas snatch the title with a late goal at Anfield that allowed Arsenal to leapfrog Liverpool by virtue of goals alone.  That was something that I had always assumed would never be repeated in my lifetime, and yet last night provided arguably an even more thrilling and unbelievable finale.  To score twice in injury time, the last two goals of the entire season, to win the entire thing after 38 games, wow.  Wow.

The fact that on 90 minutes Man City looked to have blown it just seemed, although unthinkable before kick off, so apt...so City.  Their recent past is littered with examples of being second fiddle in their city and you felt for them that yet again United are going to be top dog.  Like the scrappy little brother who always has a go but is just not strong enough to take on his older sibling, City used to get slapped around and sometimes taunted with the fact that they might be about to win just one fight, only for United to lay down some brutal reminder of who is on top around those parts.  Even in winning the FA Cup last year, City were arguably overshadowed by Untied clinching the League Record 19th victory that same day.

Now though it is different.  City didn't blow it, this was not typical City - sure, in the drama stakes it was, but this time they came through, they dug into those expensively acquired reserves and they pulled out just what was required even when it seemed impossible.  I think the rest of the league should be downright terrified frankly - if they can do it even under that kind of pressure, think how easy it could be for them to repeat it time and time again.

Certainly in leaders like Joe Hart, Vincent Kompany and Yaya Toure they have the personnel in place to instil a winning mentality; and the rest of the squad do not lack in creativity and ability to blitz most that come before them.  This could be the start of a dynasty for City, but no matter what follows, nothing will ever surpass the thrill of this first Premier League title.

For now though what follows is not important - I'm pleased for City, their fans deserve to enjoy this moment and I'm sure they will.  They will probably never get a better moment in football (injury time Champions League winning hat-trick notwithstanding) and whatever your views about the influence of the money (clearly the key, no doubt), I am pleased to see so many people so happy.  The sight of a miserable United manager doesn't hurt either.  Congratulations to City, what a moment.

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Australia's a great place to live.  Often though, when games happen at midnight on Sunday, the trek to the City to watch it only to get home at 4am with work in a few hours is a sufficient deterrent to avoid watching games live.  No big deal, small price to pay.  When faced therefore with an obvious formality such as the team with the incredible home record against the useless travellers, we can all see it is going to be a roll-over and so why not get an early night, great plan. 

The only non-United supporting people who feel more disappointed than me about missing that finale live are the City 'fans' who left at 1-2.

FML.