THE Emirates, April 2012. Mario Balotelli is having an especially Mario kind of day and is fortunate not to be sent off several times over.

Eventually Martin Atkinson succumbs to the inevitable and brandishes a second yellow card and he does so in the final minute with Manchester City desperately trying to scramble after conceding late in the game. The Italian initially refuses to walk, a selfish act of sedition that ignites his compatriot Roberto Mancini on the touchline who similarly loses the plot. Everyone and everything is unravelling.

When the final whistle blows City are eight points adrift of Manchester United with just six games to play and the BBC are hardly alone in declaring that their title challenge ‘lies in tatters’. It’s done. It’s dusted. That’s how it feels and that’s how it is.

Wenger: 'If the referee had television [replays] he would have given Balotelli a red card. He flirted with orange a few times' #ArsenalLive

— Arsenal FC (@Arsenal) April 8, 2012

Anfield, April 2014. A painful vaudeville unfolds that sees Liverpool fans boo City’s every touch, cheer ecstatically when Yaya Toure goes off injured, and then for good measure attack a supporter's coach post-game. On the pitch a side that ultimately scores 102 goals by the season’s end have no answer to a red blitzkrieg impelled by pure momentum.

It is a thoroughly dispiriting, disastrous and seismic afternoon that firmly places Liverpool as champions elect. After all they are now seven points clear with just four fixtures to navigate. Who slips up from there?

I wept with undiluted joy in the surreal afterglow of City winning their first title for 44 years while two years later the tears were replaced by champagne. And both times felt inordinately sweeter in the knowledge they were clutched from the very jaws of despair.

We’re been here before, twice, that’s all I’m saying and though a rallying call at this juncture only bristles the skin what is the point of history if not to provide some sort of solace when hope is dimmed by circumstance? And right now solace is desperately needed. That and yet another miracle.

Newcastle have won against Man City in the Premier League for the first time since 2005:

LDLLLDLLLLLLLLLLLLDLLLW

The hoodoo is over. ‍♂️ pic.twitter.com/c7PzMnYDFP

— Squawka Football (@Squawka) January 29, 2019

Last night was a body-blow we all saw coming at us in slow motion. From the moment Sergio Aguero volleyed the Blues in front at St James’ Park inside the opening minute a nagging worry worsened because for all of their propensity to dominate this is a City team with a strange aversion to continually applying pressure.

Instead they take the lead then light up their cigars and go into exhibition mode and this is fine against the Burtons and Rotherhams of this world and undeniably effective in general. Until last evening City’s January consisted of seven consecutive victories with an aggregate score-line of 30-1. Twelve different players found the net while at the other end an impressive 566 minutes passed without being breached. What’s more, a compendium of beautiful, intricate football was on display, admired by one and all.

At Leicester though, or Newcastle, sliding prematurely into cruise control when ahead only invites trouble. Such places are bastions of resilience where the home crowd rouses and the opposition react to adversity. At such places if you’re fortunate enough to gain an advantage that is the time to significantly up your game and grind with your heel, not indulge in passive passing for possession’s sake. Frankly knowing this is not rocket science. Frankly, to be undone twice in this manner only weeks apart reflects very poorly on the collective mentality of an otherwise extraordinary group of players.

Surely now though the lesson has finally been learnt and harshly too, only perhaps it’s hit home too late. Because now City are potentially seven points behind a seemingly unstoppable Liverpool and that leaves zero margin for error and even less for complacency. They are entrenched deep into Hail Mary territory and reliant on fate at its most far-fetched.

☹️ Manchester City have lost DOUBLE the amount of games than last season…

And it is only January!#MCFC pic.twitter.com/CJkEjugHOU

— The Sportsman (@TheSportsman) January 30, 2019

Or at the very least they require an exact set of events to play out unexpectedly in their favour with the bare minimum being maximum points accrued from their remaining fourteen games. Even then it will most likely go to the wire. Even then an Aguero moment might be necessary or the perfectly cruel fall of a Liverpool great and when you’re hoping for a miracle to be replicated you’re hoping at the thinnest of air.

It only gets worse. Because this weekend heralds a trio of coin-flip fixtures that would gravely concern City fans even if seven points to the good. Arsenal at home. Everton away. Chelsea at home. All in the space of seven days for a true week of reckoning. Factor in too a Carabao Cup final on the horizon along with the resumption of a Champions League campaign, then add a depleting FA Cup adventure that necessitates the rescheduling of league affairs and it amounts to an intimidating challenge that will test mettle and mind to the absolute limit.

From this day forward City must be perfect and all while residing on a wing and a prayer because one false step and the gig is up. From this day forward one mistake and a once promising season becomes a nightmare with months still to endure.

Do miracles come in threes? For the sake of a nation’s sanity let’s hope to goodness knows who that they do. For now though the champagne is still in the shop while my eyes are dry as a bone. History offers up only the slightest of solace.