In one suite there is a marriage proposal and Warnock arrives after the game to offer his congratulations, before parting with a quip: ‘I hope you lot have all paid.’
Because, while the shutout remains, this is a vital revenue stream. But it is also about more than that — it is about retaining a connection with supporters. Former Boro stars John Hendrie and Jim Platt work the rooms throughout the afternoon. Goalkeeper Platt was a team-mate here of the late Nobby Stiles — for whom there is a minute’s applause — and he tells one story about the entire team on their hands and knees in the dressing room looking for the midfielder’s contact lens before kick-off.
When this game gets underway the lounge is muted. The volume soon rises the more the beer goes down. Warnock turns to substitute Marvin Johnson with 14 minutes remaining. It is still goalless.
‘Ah man, not Johnson,’ hollers one fan. Within four minutes he has scored what proves to be the winning goal. ‘Always said he was a good player,’ offers the same dissenting voice.
But the entire lounge are on their feet. It feels like a rare moment of togetherness in this socially-distanced world.
Two brothers at the front have just about turned their table into a Ten Green Bottles tribute and the empties are nearly toppled in celebration. It is a comforting sight.
The full-time whistle is met with another boom of approval. And another round of drinks. Sadly, Boris would soon call last orders. Until when, who knows?
For now, then, it’s from behind the curtain to back behind the sofa.