The two lines stood facing each other across the strip of bare floor, and the difference between them could be felt without a word being said.
The red and white shirts had walked this tunnel a hundred times. They leaned on the walls, tugged at their sleeves, and joked in low voices, like people waiting in the hallway of their own house.
The white shirts stood straighter and spoke less. Every few seconds, a faint roar from the stands leaked through the concrete, and the visitors' eyes flicked toward the sound before they could stop themselves.
On the other side of the doors, in the broadcast booth, the commentators were doing their best to describe a stadium that was too loud to be described.
"Seventy thousand people," said the first voice, "and I'm told that most of them have been here since lunchtime. The mood outside was something quite special. After what happened in Manchester, the supporters have gone out of their way to make this derby a celebration."
