The Unity whistled us for a full minute. Then the bedsheet came down, and they sang their own team off the pitch. Marco Reus stood facing them, holding his captain's armband.
Lucien Favre waited by the dugout, hands deep in his coat pockets. He shook my hand.
"In October I chose your right side," he said. "Tonight I chose your left."
"And?"
"I have no more sides."
Steve Parish came down the steps from the directors' box, his tie pulled loose. Dougie Freedman followed a yard behind.
"Dougie. Tell him."
"I told you in August," Dougie said, keeping his hands in his coat. "I said, win the group, and Steve rebuilds a stand without borrowing money to do it. And I said I was keeping quiet about it until December."
"It is December," Steve said. "Say it again."
"Steve rebuilds a stand," Dougie Freedman said, "and does not borrow to do it."
Steve Parish let out 1 sharp laugh. He looked up at the emptying top tier, and the smile vanished.
