CF Montreal last night walked into a New England blizzard of the type club marketeers would covet themselves.
Within half an hour the Revs, unflattered by the scoreline, were three in front. It all happened against a backdrop of apathy and sparsity in the stands. Stade Saputo was like a library. There was little to encourage or regenerate a side which looked like conceding each time the whites crossed halfway.
I’d watched Manchester United squeeze home over Villareal earlier in the evening. Old Trafford, so often derided for its timid atmosphere throughout the club’s ‘taken for granted’ glory days was a raucous cauldron on the night.