As the players of Manchester City and RB Leipzig stood in the tunnel at the Red Bull Arena before kick-off on Wednesday night, the usual flip-chart of clenched jaws and event-horizon stares, Erling Haaland could be seen lolling out last in line from the City dressing room.
Haaland spotted the equally blond and chiselled Xaver Schlager, a teammate from RB Salzburg days, crept up behind him and enveloped him in a kind of laughing Nordic bro-hug, beaming with such tender, tactile bonhomie, you half-expected him to pick the Austrian up by the scruff, lick his ears, pick some briars out of his fur and take him back to his ice cave.
