There are 1,000 reasons why Everton hold a precious place on our football landscape, many of them rooted in history and sentiment.
The distinctive criss-cross steel architecture on the Bullens Road Stand balconies. The vast murals of legends on the Goodison exterior, viewed from the walk up the terraced side streets to Goodison Road. The way supporters can switch from sullen to deafeningly defiant after one bad refereeing decision.
Everton could not have been further from that legacy last weekend. In the Gwladys Street Stand, where in the early 1990s I would sometimes watch the team, breathing in Everton spirituality and soul on good Saturday afternoons and bad, there was something unmistakably different.