No, you could move to Wales. I’m sorry, that was a cheap shot. But that’s football fandom. Cheap shots are a central tenet of our catechism. I could also, to be fair, have mentioned my own team who, for some years, have tested the linguistic boundaries of the phrase “the beautiful game”.

Patently, you do not have to like football. It is not yet an unlawful position though it is definitely cancellable. There is a very clear and ever-deepening tyranny of soccer as we may discover over the coming weeks. (At time of writing, England are still in the Euros. Scotland look rather more shaky, but don’t worry, my plucky northern friends, we are all pulling for you down here.) Gaza is aflame, the UK has a general election and yet last Sunday’s news bulletins led on England preparing for its first match. How is this even news? The tournament schedule was published some time ago. Preparation ought to be a given.

Once, a love of football showed a bloke still had some working-class cred. Now, frankly, it probably means you have a facial-skincare regime. I tell you it can be hard to cope in the tournament off-years when there are no adverts to advise you on Jude Bellingham’s preferred shaving gel.