Graham Potter’s refusal to feign fury seems to have got us all … well, very angry

Just how angry do we want Graham Potter to be? Stepped on an upturned plug angry? Just missed a train angry? Had his Subaru nicked and getting ghosted by his insurance company angry?

Potter’s tenure at Chelsea is a fascinating study in our expectations of managers and how much importance – if any – we place on honesty and integrity.

Throughout his impressive career he has been praised for being different – he has a degree in emotional intelligence. At Östersund he took his players to the ballet, made them write a book, put on a musical to raise money for refugees – while leading the side to back-to-back promotions and winning a cup.

You can hear the proper football men already: “Try getting Kai Havertz and Mason Mount to perform Joseph in front of an audience.” To be fair, they might have a point, although I would pay good money to watch. “The problem is there, Brian, he’s got a great chorus, Joseph’s brothers are all great – but how have they spent half a billion pounds and still there’s no one there to sing Any Dream Will Do in the encore?”

The idea of simply wanting it more, of chest-pumping, of yelling the loudest, of just generally being furious permeates every level of football. How alpha can you be? But does it actually make a difference? Are Chelsea struggling because Potter didn’t spit blood about that Tomas Soucek handball, or is it because his side aren’t putting their chances away and he’s struggling to get a lot of new signings to gel?

Potter was a little chippy before the Dortmund game. “If you think that you can start a coaching career in the ninth tier of English football and get to this point now with Chelsea in the Champions League without getting angry, or being nice, then I’d suggest you don’t know