THE Premier League today is the only revenue-generating organisation in the UK which never mentions the dreaded ‘R’ word – recession.

Everybody else from the Prime Minister to the management of every business seem to talk about little other than the battle to survive in the worst economic climate since the Great Depression of the 1930s.

And even when clubs are being sold for knockdown prices or being saved from administration or uncertain of meeting their banking covenants, the recession is never mentioned.

It looks like Mike Ashley is ready to get shot of Newcastle United at almost any price, and the usual rumours are floating around about the identities of the potential buyers. The usual gaggle of Sheikhs and Emirs are being mentioned while a consortium including the ex-Liverpool player, Steve McMahon, may be about to make a bid.

West Ham have been saved from entering administration – which would realistically have meant needing to get more than 50 points next season just to stay in the Premier League – by its creditors.

And the leader of Liverpool City Council, Warren Bradley, has again said that our two great clubs will have to share the same stadium because neither of them can afford to build a new one exclusively for their own use.

But the football industry itself believes that it alone can remain immune from the effects of the recession – just as long as it is never mentioned.

It is rare to get a real insight into the extraordinary effect that vast player wages have on the day-to-day cash demands placed on Premier League clubs, but some of the details which leaked out from Newcastle after their relegation to the Championship made chilling reading.

Incredible amounts of money, of more than £30,000 a week, is being paid to very ordinary players who are not even playing well in a losing team.

I know all the arguments about how any unflattering comments about players wages are futile because, despite everything, clubs seem content to pay them. That might change as the full effects of the recession bite harder. The relationship between players and agents is the engine that has caused players’ wages to grow to these unmerited and unsustainable levels.

They have corned a market, they control the supply of labour and they have created a business which exists to benefit them and their clients.

I don’t know what the wage should be for a steady, unremarkable Premier League player.

What I will venture to suggest though is that a new group of club owners may be compelled at long last to re-examine the wage structures in their clubs and see what they can actually afford.

The game has enjoyed nearly two decades of fantastic economic growth to the point where the millionaire player is a pretty ordinary feature of every Premier League team.

Great stadia have been built and the whole football industry has enjoyed a bonanza – paid for partly by huge TV deals – which it seems unable to accept is over. Setanta’s troubles mark a significant detour from the path of untold riches.

The economic lessons currently being extolled will take a long time for clubs to learn – but those that fail to, will be paying the price for a long time to come.