Owen was being kind.

Some might say it is becoming tight to the point of tedium. Others would contend the Premiership is in danger of becoming the most expensive entertainment-free zone in the whole of British sport.

That is quite an indictment of a game which is by some distance the most popular sport on the planet.

But empty seats, high ticket prices, growing disillusion with the obnoxious behaviour of so many players and stifling tactics simply cannot be ignored. People are beginning to fall out of love with football.

And the Premiership has only itself to blame. It is the league, remember, which has been the most exciting force in football over the past decade.

It spawned the magnificent Manchester United sides of Sir Alex Ferguson, which played with a stirring tempo, overwhelming opposition with the speed and inventiveness of their play.

It saw Arsene Wenger’s wonderful Arsenal team which played eye-candy football, culminating in their undefeated league season of 2003-2004 which arguably contained the most attractive football ever witnessed in Britain.

In years to come football historians will talk of a golden age, a decade of packed stadia and satellite dishes walking off shelves.

All such eras eventually come to an end, you might say. Someone or something always kills the goose which lays the golden egg.

In the Premiership’s case the guilty men are ‘greed’ and ‘fear.’ The greed? Players such as Rio Ferdinand who was paid for eight months while suspended for missing a drugs test and then prevaricated disruptively on signing a new Old Trafford contract because he wanted £20,000 (€29,000) more than Manchester United’s offer of £100,000 (€148,000)-a-week.

Clubs, too, who ratchet up the price of souvenir shirts and ticket prices to pay the wages of mercenary stars.

Is it any wonder that there were 10,000 or so empty seats at Chelsea’s European match at Stamford Bridge last week with ticket prices between £45 (€67)and £65 (€96) for a match they were expected to win comfortably against unfashionable Anderlecht?

On top of that there is the greed of television companies who, having paid top dollar for the rights, have saturated the airwaves with football, vast swathes of which is ordinary and meaningless. So much of their coverage lays bare an industry which refuses to take responsibility for its more reprehensible behaviour.

So Wayne Rooney’s wicked tongue and dull wit is routinely tolerated and managers such as Birmingham’s Steve Bruce dimly excuse the sending off of Nicky Butt for aiming a flying kick at an opponent because “he didn’t connect.”

Enough, however, is enough.

And all the signs say football supporters, the ones not fused to the game’s hip via mindless obsession, have reached that stage.

It might not be so bad if the worsening behaviour and the enduring greed did not coincide with a sea-change in the outlook of Premiership coaches.

But here comes the ‘fear.’ Where in the past many coaches actually believed their best form of defence was attack, now there is a general consensus that teams must play more cautiously.

’We have what we hold’ is the prevailing mood, notably at Liverpool who have scored once and conceded none in four league games while playing with far more freedom in Europe.

It’s nothing new. In the 1970s and early 1980s defenders ruled English football. If strikers scored 20 goals a season they were hailed as phenomenons. When Brian McClair scored 20 goals in 1988 he was the first Manchester United player to reach that milestone for 20 years.

Not surprisingly, the root cause of the fear is money, or rather the risk of losing it, which has divided the Premiership into three factions. Actually, make that four.

Since the arrival of Roman Abramovich’s billions the championship is no longer in doubt. Chelsea are in a “league of their own.”

Which leaves Manchester United, Arsenal and perhaps Liverpool with realistic chances of qualifying for Champions League spots, a group of around six clubs vying for the minor European places and the rest in a dogfight for the most important prize of all, finishing at least fourth from bottom.

The rewards are now so great for being part of the Premiership that survival is not everything, for many it is the only thing.

It is why West Brom played a second string team against Chelsea at Stamford Bridge last month, preferring to rest players having accepted they had no hope of winning.

It is why midfields have become choked and why so many teams have resorted to playing just one main striker in a 4-5-1 or 4-3-3 system.

“Wimbledon…Wimbledon,” United fans chanted at Anfield on Sunday as Liverpool reverted to what appeared their only attacking ploy, a long ball up to 6ft 7ins target man Peter Crouch.

Chelsea coach Jose Mourinho, of course, has made a similar system work well enough to have scored 12 goals from six matches this season. But then Mourinho has money, an astute mind and a huge squad of quality players.

Yet even with all that the champions still do not stir the blood.

Indeed, the irony is that the only true ambition this season so far has come from Alan Pardew at West Ham, a promoted club tipped by many to struggle but who have 10 points in the bag derived from attacking and entertaining football.

Pardew insists they will continue to play in such a manner, even against the big boys, reasoning that they have a better chance of survival by going for three points for a win than attempting to scratch out one point with sterile draws.

The hope is that others will follow Pardew’s example. The suspicion, however, is that Pardew’s is one brave voice in a wilderness of fear.