Even if there had not been two English sides in the final and even if the Barclays Premier League had not supplied six of the past eight Champions League semi-finalists the issue would still have been germane: where does the English domestic league rank among its European brethren?

The argument that we shouldn’t be too quick to crown the Premier League goes something like this: results go only some way towards providing an explanation. Five years ago three of the final four were Italian, but nobody in their right mind would have suggested that Serie A was the best league in the world at the time. Besides, there are too many extraneous and casual factors that pop up in knockout competitions.

Bayern Munich and Juventus, two of Europe’s heavyweights, were not — for very different reasons — involved in the Champions League. Barcelona were burnt out and poorly assorted before the season even began (and, even then, they probably outplayed Manchester United over two legs). Real Madrid were led by a guy who had won nothing in his coaching career. Age finally caught up with AC Milan. Valencia have had three different coaches this season, Seville two. Lyons just one — Alain Perrin — but he looks headed for the sack. AS Roma had to face United without their captain and best player, Francesco Totti. And Inter Milan . . . well, Inter are just Inter: an accident waiting to happen.

In short, the argument goes, English clubs benefited from a European power vacuum this season. And, compared to their continental counterparts, they were a paragon of stability.

As with most theories, it contains a few crucial flaws. Apart from United, the other three clubs had to deal with off-the-pitch issues that were potentially equally destabilising. Arsenal began the season with a shareholder dispute, watched as two of their best performers negotiated with foreign clubs right under their noses and ended the campaign by sacking their managing director. Of course, that ownership dispute looked tame compared to the one faced by Liverpool. As for Chelsea, they changed their beloved managerial icon in September and replaced him with a man who was, at once, savaged, derided and humiliated by the media. Hardly smooth sailing.

Spain and Italy cling to the fact that their leagues are supposedly better in terms of technique and tactics respectively. And while there may be a lot of merit to that, if you look at the domestic competitions top to bottom, it’s difficult to defend that position if you limit yourself to the top of the table.

Are Lionel Messi, Ronaldinho, Thierry Henry and Samuel Eto’o that much more skilful than Wayne Rooney, Carlos Tévez, Cristiano Ronaldo and Paul Scholes? Anyone want to compare Mahamadou Diarra, Wesley Sneijder and Guti with Frank Lampard, Michael Essien and Michael Ballack? Is Luís Fabiano so much more talented than Fernando Torres? Choose your poison: Rubén Baraja and David Villa or Emmanuel Adebayor and Cesc Fàbregas?

Whatever technical supremacy La Liga may once have enjoyed has clearly been whittled down. And it’s the same in terms of tactics and Serie A’s once vaunted edge. Rafael Benítez and Arsène Wenger out-tacticted (if that’s a word) Roberto Mancini and Carlo Ancelotti respectively. Luciano Spalletti may be a pioneering tactician, but that’s two seasons in a row now that Sir Alex Ferguson has got the better of him. As for Chelsea, true, Grant may be the most criticised boss since Kenneth Lay at Enron, but his blueprint was designed by one José Mourinho, hardly a managerial mug.

Serie A and La Liga can point to the Premier League’s financial clout, concluding that “it’s all about money”. Maybe it is. But they don’t have much of a leg to stand on. They’re the ones who sell their television rights individually, rather than collectively as the Premier League did. And, if you want to talk money, four of the top seven clubs (and two of the top three) in Deloitte’s “Football Money League” are not English.

The other recurring argument in Europe’s assessment of the Premier League’s supremacy over the Champions League this season is one of “Englishness”. It’s not so much the argument that these English clubs are packed with foreign stars (the top sides elsewhere are no different). Rather, it’s the idea that Chelsea, Liverpool and Manchester United reached the semi-finals by playing a brand of football that runs distinctly counter to the English stereotype. As one Spanish newspaper put it, they’ve succeeded through tactical rigour and catenaccio (“they play like Italian clubs”, it wrote, which, in Iberian media circles is anything but a compliment).

Again, this argument is deeply flawed. For a start, the “English stereotype” is just that — a stereotype. Liverpool and Nottingham Forest did not win six European Cups between them in the 1970s and ’80s by playing that way. Beyond that, does “staying true to your English footballing roots” mean you have to defend badly, lump the ball up the pitch and never evolve?

Chelsea, Liverpool and Manchester United chose to play a certain (defensive) way in Europe. Real, Milan and Inter did not. The English clubs were vindicated by results. The others were not. Simple as that.

Does this herald an era of Premier League hegemony? It’s too early to tell. But what is obvious to everyone in Europe is that this was the season English clubs truly came of age. And perhaps there are lessons to be learnt, from Milan to Madrid to Munich.