"No, it was definitely '32." He wasn't entirely sure, but didn't mind arguing over niggling points of fact. "I'll bet you anything. I think you're -"
He broke off to watch; it did look a bit more urgent this time, and no, there was nothing fake about that swoop at all - it was a little disappointing to think it could end so ignominiously for Montrose, but ... even now, it was hard to care too much. Some twenty seconds later, it was over, and he was leaping up to cheer regardless.