ONE thing that strikes foreigners in England is the proliferation of Player of the Year awards. There is the Football Writers’ Award, won by Jamie Vardy last season. The Football Supporters’ Federation Award (Philippe Coutinho). The Premier League’s own award (Vardy again). And the early-bird among the awards, the Professional Footballers’ Association Player Award, which last year went to Riyad Mahrez.

You sort of see the logic in different stakeholders – the critics, the audience, the sponsors and peers – each offering their own award. But you also wonder if, other than subsidising the hotel and banqueting industry in London, what the actual purpose of all this might be. And this is especially true for the PFA award, which is set to be handed out this evening at the Grosvenor House Hotel.

There are two fundamental problems with this award. Or, rather, two obvious reasons why you should treat it as little more than a popularity contest. The first is the voting system. Players received ballots via their PFA club representative some 10 weeks ago. That means some would have cast their votes with more than a third of the season left. Those who opted to wait until the last minute – the deadline was a month ago – would have done it with a quarter of the campaign to go.

It is frankly rather grotesque that the PFA take such care to count and verify the ballots – something called Beever and Struthers Chartered Accountants is charged with the task – but doesn’t seem to care that they give a season-long award on the basis of two-thirds of said season.

The other issue is the players themselves. In years past, stories have circulated of ballots spoiled by obscenities or drawings of genitalia. Or frustrated PFA reps – at the end of their tether after being summarily ignored by team-mates – filling out dozens of ballots themselves.

Those stories may be apocryphal, yet those who have spent time around footballers will know that their interest in the game beyond their immediate surroundings varies tremendously. Some players swot up as much as they can and genuinely watch matches on TV the way a fan does. Many do not and, frankly, could not care less. It doesn’t mean they don’t love the game, just that they don’t spend as much time thinking about it.

Without being overly sniffy about it, a look at past winners of the PFA award tells its own story. Eight of the last 10 were either with a top-of-the-table club or were league top scorers when the votes were cast or, sometimes, both. On the other two occasions, the award went to Gareth Bale, who was neither of those, but rather a human highlight reel who would go on to be the most expensive footballer ever.

Just one defender has won it in the past 24 years: John Terry in 2004-05 and, yes, he was captaining the side who were dominating the league. Twenty-two of the past 24 awards have gone to either strikers or attacking midfielders. The exceptions were Terry and Roy Keane, another captain of a league-dominating side.

It is odd how the award has evolved. The first two winners (Norman Hunter and Colin Todd) were rugged central defenders, the third and fifth (Pat Jennings and Peter Shilton) were goalkeepers. Evidently what professional footballers value has changed over the decades.

This season, the short-list – which is actually the top six vote-getters – includes four forwards (Harry Kane, Alexis Sanchez, Romelu Lukaku and Zlatan Ibrahimovic), an attacking midfielder (Eden Hazard) and a defensive midfielder (N’Golo Kante).

Plus ca change, eh? The funny thing is that Kante is the bookies’ favourite. Though you rather feel that this isn’t a function of players suddenly re-evaluating what they prize but rather the uniqueness of Chelsea’s Frenchman. Not only is he on his way to winning back-to-back league titles with two different sides, he’s also been the beneficiary of enormous media attention: the classic case of somebody endlessly described as under-rated who becomes anything but.

You can’t really argue with Kante’s selection if, indeed, he does win. For the first two-thirds of the season he probably has been the most impactful player in the league. The argument is whether a seasonal award ought to be given based on two-thirds of a whole.

NOTHING like a Champ-ions League elimination to prompt a bit of over-reaction, eh? Tonight’s Clasico is likely to be Barcelona’s last shot at the La Liga title. And, even then, it’s a long shot. Even if Luis Enrique’s men win at the Bernabeu, Real Madrid will still have a game in hand. Still, it’s something to play for and a Clasico win would provide a statement. Not to mention that there’s also a Copa del Rey final against Alaves to come.

In other words, it’s yet to be determined just how empty-handed Barcelona’s season ends up. And while it is true that they will be getting a new manager next season (and it won’t be Jorge Sampaoli, who appears certain to take the Argentina job) and therefore will start over, they are not doing so from a bad position.

Andres Iniesta and Javier Mascherano – both of whom are 32 – are the only significant over-30s in the squad and both were already set to be phased out. They obviously still have Lionel Messi, who is, again, averaging a goal a game, as well as his heir apparent, Neymar, who has just turned 25. In other words, if we are talking decline here, it’s the sort of decline most can only dream about.

THE question on everybody’s mind is whether Zlatan Ibrahimovic’s injury signals the end of his Manchester United career or the end of his career, full stop. The cruciate ligament damage he sustained against Anderlecht is likely to keep him out until January 2018 at least. Ibrahimovic will be 36 in October. His is a big body, of the kind that takes longer to heal. Would he want to face the uncertainty of a long rehab process knowing he might not be the same when he returns? And would United want to give him that opportunity?

We don’t know the answer. For me, I’m grateful that not only did he stick around so long, he spent a season in England, the place where, for years, he was least appreciated, and proved that even in his mid-30s he could still crush everything in his path. Just imagine what he could have done had he arrived as a younger player in a better, more settled side.