All of it is there on one page. It is hidden but it is there, shouting in anguish above the legal jargon. The millions he earned in the Premier League wage explosion of the Noughties; the monopoly money he got at Newcastle United and West Ham and Manchester City, the watch collection that was his only real extravagance; his absurd generosity, the lengths he went to for others; the injuries he suffered; the pain he went through. The money he earned and how dearly it has cost him.
It is there on that page, hidden but howling: the school he set up in Sierra Leone, the funerals of strangers he paid for in Cardiff, the kid from a favela whose education he bankrolled in Rio de Janeiro, his divorce settlement, the friends he indulged, the friends who betrayed him, the advisers who misled him and cheated him, the loss of his family home, Sant-Y-Nyll, in St Brides-super-Ely, the £1,398,071.