It was well into the early hours of Wednesday morning when our Chelsea fan reporter settled down to watch his European Champions kick off against Lille – from New Delhi

Half an hour after midnight, an important notification pops up on my phone. There was still an hour to kick-off in the breezy London evening, but here, five hours ahead in my college campus at the unusually frigid outskirts of New Delhi, the excitement was building up. It was matchday in the Champions League, and Chelsea – my Chelsea – were taking on French champions Lille.

At 12:30 am, the lineups are announced and the nervousness kicks in. I start preparing for the worst – Burak Yılmaz bullying Thiago Silva, or Kai Havertz hobbling off with an untimely knock. This foreboding is much to the chagrin of my friends, who are far more realistic about matches than I can ever dare to be. It’s something I’ve made my peace with – I’ve seen their logic succumb to superstition as well, far too frequently. In any case, European knockout rounds do not pray at the altar of reason, choosing to worship the drama gods instead.

This would be the first I’d be watching on campus since returning here, and I had readied my shirt and scarf for the occasion. A friend had set up blue lights in his room, making for the perfect atmosphere to watch my European champions return to defend their crown. Not that he was consciously adding to the azure tenor of the night – a committed Liverpool fan, he would balk at the prospect of Chelsea-themed room lighting. Begrudgingly, however, my friends and fans of rival teams admitted to the elan of Kai Havertz, especially after he opened the scoring with a thumping header, having already had a couple of sighters of goal. Collective admiration for the silky German flowed; he was in the thick of it all with his incessant mobility and shrewd running. A 1-0 lead after just seven minutes calmed the nerves, and the tension that undercuts a knockout game quickly evaporated. The power of the superstition waned, and the music felt jollier. The playlist for the night, keeping with the overall football spirit, comprised a slew of songs that featured in the FIFA games, and have thus made their way into our collective musical consciousness – very few things can get us going like John Newman’s piercing vocals in Love Me Again.

Chelsea controlled the game smartly. N’Golo Kanté delivered a stellar second-half performance, settling the game by barging through the middle and setting up Christian Pulišić for a lovely dinked finish to make it 2-0.

In the end, an important first-leg victory was achieved, and the mind turned towards other prospects of dread: waking up for classes in the early morning. In my four years in college so far, late-night Champions League viewings have cost me in absences the following mornings, but that’s alright. In any case, the blanket in bed is that much cosier when it’s coated with the dulcet sensation of a Chelsea victory.