Up until the very last second, there was so much in it that made the competition fantastic.

To commemorate the Premier League's 30th anniversary, it was almost the ideal game. Almost.

Kalidou Koulibaly scored a sensational goal. N’Golo Kante was back to his best. Harry Kane brought the game to a peak, as it, of course, had late drama.

There was quality. There was character.

In that sense, both clubs could actually take genuine positives from the game. Chelsea should have won – and probably won well – and in that they offered a superb performance that showed they shouldn’t have been so dismissed for the top four. They remain the real deal. Spurs, meanwhile, should have lost. They were second best for large parts of the game. And yet they still showed a character that has been beyond them in the past, especially against this opposition, to illustrate that they genuinely have new mettle. There was something different.

There was a contender’s competitiveness, and that reflects Antonio Conte’s immense effect. That competitiveness so clearly translated into the occasion’s coup de grace: a pantomime that developed over the course of the game, that culminated in the hilarious face-off between the Italian and Thomas Tuchel.

This was pure theatre, that could only be enjoyed. No one got hurt. It was all part of the show.

It quickly became apparent that both managers had enjoyed it, too. The two admitted as much. It even seems clear that they actually like each other and relish the competitiveness. That is what it should be all about.

It quickly evolved into something that the game shouldn’t be about, though.

That was Tuchel, so singularly and extensively criticising referee Anthony Taylor, to strategically dictate the post-match discussion.

And back we go, away from the fun, into the utterly dismal fixation on lines, stills, and slow-motions.

It should be immediately acknowledged here that there is a considerable irony to complaining about the discussion of referees when you are about to contribute to that discussion, but the point is wider.

It certainly isn’t to complain about refereeing decisions. On that, it should also be acknowledged that the officials got it wrong. Cristian Romero should have been sanctioned – maybe even sent off – for pulling Marc Cucurella’s hair. Kane’s dramatic equalising goal should never have happened. It should have been a free-kick out. VAR, at the very least, should have spotted it. It was remarkable that it didn’t. Anthony Taylor should have got the call.

But, equally, that’s the game.

VAR, for all the criticism it gets, has actually improved the sport. It has meant more decisions are called correctly. It has left less to the blind luck of whether someone sees something. But it isn’t perfect, particularly since it still involves subjective interpretations, usually in the heat of the moment.

That means mistakes will persist.

It’s unfortunate, but also somehow inevitable. The rational response, no matter how infuriating, would be to just accept that sometimes they go for you and sometimes they go against you. It’s just that most people tend to fixate on those that went against them and instantly forget those that went for them.

“It’s part of the game.”

And it has led to something that shouldn’t be part of the game but is now an entirely undesirable new pillar of the Premier League culture.

That is an endless, tedious discussion of refereeing discussions, to the detriment of everything else. It has become like Spain two decades ago, when the front pages of the sports newspapers would be dominated by refereeing decisions. We’re seeing the same now. How many times has there been a brilliant match, full of incident, only to see the coverage afterwards descend into where a line was?

This isn’t to say refereeing calls aren’t influential moments. It’s that there are multiple more influential moments that warrant as much attention.

There are multiple reasons for this, one of which is reflected by Tuchel’s post-game press conference.

Managerial criticism of referees has been part of the game for some time.

The Premier League’s great master, Sir Alex Ferguson, went further and more extreme with it than anyone. Tuchel is just following a long line.

And that isn’t to say his fundamental complaint isn’t justified. But should we really be giving it so much attention? Why was his ire so singularly directed at the officials rather than Romero?

Is that because the unspoken thing is an understanding that footballers are trying to deceive referees all the time, so they are part of the problem? That it’s “part of the game”?

And refereeing does have a problem. It is approaching a crisis — but not because of performance.

It is because very few people actually want to be referees. And why would they? The lower levels where they have to train feature worse abuse and even violence, and the culture is undoubtedly influenced by the discussion at the very top. It is why all of this is so unhelpful and so damaging to the game. To counter one common argument, this is not the way to get referees to improve.

It also feeds into a culture where an increasing minority of fans have got so used to social media echo chambers that they can no longer accept any criticism from the media. There is now a widespread expectation that any coverage should be positive.

You could get into a bigger sociological commentary here about how all of this reflects deeper issues in society, not least the polarisation of politics and the so-called “post-truth” era. It can’t just be incompetence or even a basic mistake. It has to be some kind of conspiracy.

That is for another day, though. For the moment, the atmosphere around the Premier League is being poisoned by a level of discussion that is fundamentally tedious.