For mine, the EPL is not merely the ultimate club soccer competition on the planet, it's the biggest and best annual tournament in any sporting code.

Twenty teams, each playing the other on a home-and-away basis, with the winner decided on a first-past-the-post basis, without the lottery of a play-off series, or the handicap of a salary cap.

Adding to the intrigue is the battle to qualify for entry into the lucrative European leagues, to feature in one of the two knockout cup finals at Wembley, or to avoid finishing in the dreaded bottom-three relegation zone.

I was in England for the launch of the inaugural Premier League, in 1992-93, and its continual growth since then never ceases to amaze me.

The media coverage is saturation level. Page after page in every paper is dedicated to previews, match reports, analysis ... and tabloid scandal.

Despite continuously inclement weather and the convenience of pay-TV, crowd figures have literally never been healthier.

According to one report I read during my time in the UK, this season's overall attendances are set to smash a record dating back to 1948-49.

Nine clubs attract average home turnouts of more than 40,000. Seven of those draw more than 50,000 to each game, and three average above 60,000.

Bear in mind that, for much of the season, temperatures are below double figures and rain can be unrelenting.

And attending games is no cheap exercise.

I paid £65 ($122), without complaint, for a ticket at Emirates Stadium to watch Arsenal lose 3-0 to defending champions Manchester City last month.

I considered myself fortunate that a long-time mate, an Arsenal season-ticket holder for 30-odd years, was able to secure me a spare pass.

Many fans aren't so lucky. At a host of clubs, most seasons are fully sold out, before a ball is kicked.

If you consider that every club will play 19 EPL games at home, plus possible cup and European league fixtures, it must cost thousands of pounds each year for supporters to attend games.

It's a far cry from the early 1990s, when I first started watching Arsenal at Highbury, for a relatively inexpensive £10 entry fee.

The skyrocketing price of tickets has changed the demographic of supporters and funded a generation of players earning mind-boggling salaries.

Manchester United goalkeeper David de Gaea, on £375,000 a week, is reported to be the top earner.

His annual wage alone amounts to almost four NRL salary caps. Dozens of his teammates and opponents are pocketing six figures on a weekly basis.

One report I read saluted the progress of unheralded Sheffield United, noting that their highest-paid players were earning "only" £35,000 a week.

Players are regularly photographed arriving for training in £200,000 Lamborghinis, Bentleys or Aston Martins ... depending on which of their fleet of luxury vehicles they decide to take for a spin.

It's a different world, and one that left me reflecting on the state of Australia's domestic competition, the A-League.

Nobody ever expects the A-League to rival the EPL, or even come close, although it is heartening to note that two of Brighton's standout performers, Mat Ryan and Aaron Mooy, learned their trade Down Under.

But the point I find myself pondering is whether the A-League, now in its 15th season, is, like the EPL, on a continuously upward trajectory.

This season's average crowd figure of 10,262 (after last weekend's round) is the lowest since 2010-11. Each year since 2013-14, overall attendances have been in decline. TV ratings, likewise, have been on the slide, which must be of huge concern given Foxtel's much-publicised plan to cut spending on "non-marquee sporting content" after posting a financial loss of $417 million in 2018.

A number of clubs face a perennial struggle to remain financially viable.

The policy of recruiting veteran drawcards such as Dwight Yorke, Alessandro Del Pierro, Harry Kewell, Tim Cahill and Emile Heskey, appears to have been abandoned.

When the A-League kicked off, in 2005-06, there was no such thing as Big Bash League cricket. The National Basketball League was apparently on death's doorstep.

Now both are competing for the same spectators, TV viewers and sponsorship dollars as the A-League.

It's a bloody tough ask for the round-ball code. For whatever reason, its vast participation figures have rarely translated into bums on seats at A-League games.

Even the most staunch A-League aficionado would find it hard to argue the game is thriving. My opinion is that it has been flat-lining for several years now, even though the professionalism of its players continues to increase each season.

Nobody is suggesting the A-League should be on a par with the EPL, but is a berth in the top-10 leagues in the world a realistic aspiration?

All we can ask is that it continues to improve and evolve, on and off the field. And at the moment, I can't help wondering whether that is indeed the case.