ATFC’s picture hangs in the House Music Hall of Fame. OK, so it’s on a rusty nail in the toilet under the stairs at the end of the hall, but the point is that it’s there, a proud testament to one man’s ability to both devastate dance-floors with his explosive, peak-time sets and deliver sickeningly slick productions at an awe-inspiring rate.

It’s important to remember that while the mere presence of ATFC leaves many breathless (he blames it on the spinach), he is just a man, and not an entire football club as many would think. A man with a 'bad habit' of taking you out for the night of your life, forcing you to dance the night away, getting you all sweaty and then jetting off to do exactly the same with a complete stranger the next day.