Forty minutes into Rangers' mortifying night at Ibrox, Djeidi Gassama won a corner at the Broomloan Stand end and his manager, Russell Martin, applauded on the sideline. The sound of one man clapping was deafening.
Rangers trailed 3-0 at the time, there had been multiple outbreaks of booing and scores of people had already headed home.
When Ibrox turns on its own like this, there's a temptation to put in the earplugs and don the crash helmet. It ain't pretty.
It's as visceral as it gets; loud and vicious, words coming like blades, capable of cutting their target in half. A corner might have done it for the manager, but it wasn't doing it for the masses.
This was in the post, though. Under Martin, Rangers have one way of playing and stout defending isn't a part of it. Not yet at any rate.
Caution is thrown to the wind. Everybody is on the front foot. There's little midfield or defensive discipline, none of the cynicism that you need, little of the physical strength and none of the commanding authority.
They could have shipped five or six in this game.
Rangers had negotiated ties with Panathinaikos and Viktoria Plzen in previous weeks and, while there was praise for getting through, the realists weren't blind to the luck they experienced along the way.
Poor defending unpunished. Crosses not headed away. Runners not picked up. A goalkeeper making save upon save. Space given up. Attackers missing sitters. Chickens tend to come home to roost, though.