The weather was starting to get a little cold for his liking, but it wasn't like Rhydian didn't know how to warm himself up right. Standing about in a stadium could be a very chilly business, but it was nothing a pair of mittens (red, bright and festive, naturally) and a beer and a hip flask couldn't fix. Jumping up in his seat helped quite a bit, too, and happily he'd had plenty of cause for that tonight. Maybe he should have come to the match conflicted, seeing as he was seeing - sort of seeing? - the opposing Seeker, but ... no, it wasn't enough. No one would expect him to toss out his loyalties on the strength of anything less than a life debt.
He clapped to warm his hands, then reached into his jacket to pull out the whiskey, take a swig and hand it off. "Now if they'd just fucking score," he muttered, before cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting same for all to hear. He turned to give a mild glare to Fergus, who Rhydian thought could probably have shown a little more enthusiasm. "Well? What do you think?" Not about his team, obviously.