And so to the ownership issue. Newcastle are basically owned by Saudi Arabia’s Public Investment Fund – with 20 per cent being taken by Amanda Staveley’s PCP Capital Partners and the Reuben Brothers – and there are fundamental concerns about the state regime with which PIF is so closely aligned, even if it has convinced the Premier League there is a clear separation.

No one should duck this. There are Newcastle fans unthinkingly embracing the Saudis, who ignore the human-rights abuses, the violations, the horrific murder of journalist Jamal Khashoggi, and the very real accusations of “sportswashing”. They do so with an unhelpful mixture of “whataboutery”, pointing the finger elsewhere, wearing tea towels on their heads, waving bank notes and gloating at the whole notion of being the “world’s wealthiest football club”.

No one expects them to stop supporting Newcastle but it is not incompatible to say also that there are misgivings about the owners. When the takeover happened, Amnesty International asked whether “fans, players and Newcastle United backroom staff will…be prepared to speak out” and it is a fair enough question, although how that would be manifested is less easy to identify.

It is not for Newcastle or for their fans to reform Saudi Arabia. Neither can they walk away from the club they support. What they can do is focus that support on the club – not the owners – and also use whatever opportunities arise, through campaigns, the supporters’ trust and so on, to voice concern. The Saudis own Newcastle and unless the Premier League substantially changes its rules that will not change.

It is a difficult line to negotiate for a Newcastle fan. There is no easy answer. They should not be asked to boycott the club, they cannot be expected to lead the human-rights protests, but they can speak about the issues in fans’ forums and apply pressure on Newcastle to be as inclusive and tolerant as possible.

There is a parallel that can be drawn with Formula One driver Lewis Hamilton, who said he was not comfortable with competing in Saudi Arabia given its repressive laws regarding the LGBTQ+ community. The publicity following his statement was not good for the Saudis, and Hamilton won wearing his rainbow helmet. It would be interesting to see what happens if, for example, Callum Wilson or Allan Saint-Maximin said something similar.

There is no simple answer. Newcastle fans should not be criticised for embracing the takeover because of what it represents to them: the end of the despised Ashley era. And how much that means to them is evident again in the removal of the Sports Direct signs. Newcastle are their club. It is not Ashley’s and it is not the Saudis’.

What they have to hope is that the new owners are respectful of that and that there is genuine intent to change the Saudi regime, as has been promised under its Vision 2030 plan which promises “social reform”. The ownership of Newcastle brings extra public exposure and that can be helpful to human-rights campaigners.

If Newcastle fans are expected to be more outspoken then there is also a lot of unpicking of Saudi investment in the UK that will have to happen. That would include, to cite just one example involving another club, the “strategic partnership in Saudi Arabia” that was trumpeted by Manchester United in 2017 as part of the Saudi vision plan – a plan led by the Crown Prince, Mohammed bin Salman, who is the chairman of PIF and stands accused of sanctioning the Khashoggi killing.