My dad says he used to stand: swaying and singing with his mates. He remembered when the terraces went and they had to sit. They often didn’t. You couldn’t sing and wind up the other fans sitting down, he used to say. When he first started taking me to the match I learned quickly: the songs, the rituals. He still comes to the odd match but mostly watches on his screen, the sound turned to eleven he says. I wouldn’t miss the live match. I need to share this with my mates, a chorus. All wearing the same red headsets.