"So?" Jones said.
"So he has counted his season already. 63 matches. He counted them in June and bought the man he will need in October, and it cost him nothing, and not 1 of you thought it was worth a sentence."
Nobody on that desk had an answer.
"Yes," I said.
Out loud. On an aeroplane. To a screen.
Christian Benteke turned his head about 4 inches and looked at me, and I have not been looked at like that since I was 12.
"Sorry."
"No," Benteke said. "Go on."
"That is Thierry Henry."
"I know who it is, gaffer."
"He has just spent 90 seconds on television explaining my third goalkeeper." I could hear myself doing it and I could not stop. "Thierry Henry. Talking about Tim Krul. Because of a thing I did in June."
Benteke looked at me for a while longer.
Then he put the other earphone back in and said, without turning round, "You are worse than my son."
