It was simple luck. I didn’t know when I bought the ticket weeks before that the game would end up being the second coming, the return of Cristiano Ronaldo to Old Trafford, sporting the famous number 7 shirt he had last worn in 2009. A good seat at an ordinary game was suddenly the hottest ticket in town, changing hands for thousands of pounds. It never occurred to me cash in. This was unmissable.

United won 4-1. Ronaldo, always one for the big occasion, scored twice. But this was never about a game of football. This was all about the return of arguably the greatest footballer ever to the club where his career took flight. I will never forget the storm of noise that marked his appearance on the field as more than seventy thousand people screamed his name in unison. The rest of the team – even the minor gods like Fernandes, Varane, and Sancho – were forced out of the spotlight and relegated to the supporting cast. Things will calm down. Most likely even the arrival of CR7 won’t be enough for United to compete this season against the likes of City, Chelsea, and Liverpool. We’re not stupid, just very sentimental, but it was a great day for dreamers.