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He raises an eyebrow.

‘I mean, to an extent, obviously,’ I quickly add. ‘But all the best stories have heroes and villains. We need to intrigue people, give them a spectacle beyond the sport, a hook to catch their eye. Once they’re interested, they’ll learn more, they’ll see something they like. That’s how you grow any audience really.’

‘Anything else?’ he asks.

‘Well, community content would help,’ I continue. ‘Schools, local businesses, charity partnerships, family days. But not too staged, nothing where it feels like a player has been dragged there and would rather be anywhere else. Find things that match who they actually are. Authenticity matters and you can’t fake it, hard as some people try.’

‘And social media?’ he asks.

‘Yes – what are you doing now, in terms of social media?’

‘We post things,’ he says. ‘Line-ups. Fixtures. Interviews. Highlights.’

‘That’s all great, but are you building content people want to watch or share if they aren’t already fans?’

He doesn’t answer immediately.

‘Are you making the most of trends?’ I ask. ‘Short-form video formats? Player-led content? Behind-the-scenes? Personality quizzes? Reactive posts? Things that make people tag friends? Things that show the club as a place to really belong, not just another team to support?’

He stares at me. Perhaps now is the time for me to stop talking.

‘Sorry,’ I say. ‘It’s just… my specialist subject. I could talk for England on it.’

Bryan smiles.

‘You’re good, aren’t you?’

‘I like to think so,’ I say, trying to keep my game face on. It means so much to me, though, that he thinks I sound good, because losing my job has definitely knocked my confidence.

He looks down at my CV again.

‘I’ll be honest with you.’

My stomach twists into a knot; there’s something about the way he says it, the tone of his voice, the look on his face… It doesn’t seem like good news.

‘We’ve already got our shortlist of candidates,’ he explains.

Ah… Shit.

‘I only agreed to see you as a courtesy to Ron,’ he continues. ‘He said you were a friend of his sister’s.’

A friend of his sister’s. Wow. I mean, I knew he wasn’t going to fess up to me being his girlfriend but, even so, the assault continues.

‘Right,’ I say. ‘I see…’

I don’t know what else to say really. I’m keeping my game face on, but only just.

‘I was going to thank you for coming in and send you on your way…’

Oh, I would have much preferred it if he had spared me that detail, because are you seriously telling me I dragged myself here, losing my phone and my bag in the process, just so he could save face in front of Ron?

‘But…’

But? I hold my breath for a second or two. Because there’s a but? I hope it’s a good one.

‘But?’ I prompt him after what feels like an eternity of silence (but is probably only a second or two).

‘But you seem like you really know your stuff.’