It will be one of the eternal mysteries, not just of my life, but of existence, as to why Saturday?s awful game against Sunderland should have decided me to renew my season ticket after all.

I woke up on Sunday morning and felt fully invested, somehow. Not quite ready to give up my ?neutral with a season ticket? label, but significantly more invested than I had been on Friday. And with the renewal confirmation email dropping into my inbox just now, there?s no going back.

There was lots to hate on Saturday, and I did jokingly suggest to anyone who would listen that both teams should have points deducted for putting on such an awful game (nothing about it at all gave any clues as to why football is described as the Beautiful Game).
Everything was framed in ugliness, every player seemed below par (even my favourite, Borja Sainz, however hard he chased and however often I drew a sharp intake of breath for fear of him getting another red), and the weather was apocalyptic (like everything in the UK right now).

And whilst there are times when players have to play it back, be conservative, stay safe, many people?s patience was tried by this continual approach ? which wasn?t actually safe; had Sunderland been even slightly better, they?d have punished us to the tune of three goals from sloppy passing at the back.

But, but, but ? Sargent?s finish; an instinctive, tough, scrappy, bullet of a shot. The collective holding of breath at the same time as leaping up out of...