Steve Bruce paced and shuffled, always with his hands in his pockets and his heart beating quicker and quicker.
On the eve of his 60th birthday, he would have known there were less stressful ways to spend an evening than sweating on the bounce of every ball but this was the hand which he had been dealt: the final game of remarkable year, with Newcastle trying to frustrate the champions.
Nobody gave Newcastle much hope against a Liverpool team, smarting after they had surprisingly squandered two points against West Brom but, once again, those making pre-match predictions got it wrong.