I don’t know much about South American culture and slang. I do know, however, a little about the mechanics of confrontation. Even at Sunday League level, I’ve had verbal spats and faced down opposition players from Everton Valley to East Los Angeles. As a fan, I’ve exchanged insults — and worse — with rival supporters from Trafford Park to the Tiber.

That’s just the football-related stuff. In real life, I’ve been in the middle of riots, squared up to police on picket lines and fought fascist bully-boys with bare knuckles.

What have I learnt? Not much, but enough to know that if I’m having a row with a black man and I make a reference to his colour, he’s going to think it’s a racist