On day one at Ibrox, Rangers boss Steven Gerrard declared that he was here to win.
Sportsmail was there, inside the stadium's iconic Blue Room, surrounded my murals of glories past, a grand yet claustrophobic setting entirely apt for the environment he was about to enter.
Gerrard, though, did not mean he was there to win matches, cups or friends. Everyone present took his assertion as thus - he would not rest until he won the Scottish Premiership.
On Sunday, he did just that, 1,038 days on from his statement of intent. To witness his arrival was to know the destination would be reached.
Announced at short notice, adding to the fervour and frenzy, it was one of those rare occasions when a stadium does not need a football for it to bounce.
Gerrard kept his composure. We noted at the time, 'He was softly-spoken yet loud and clear'.
That was until he emerged from the tunnel and found his hands sucked from their pockets by the collective gasp of 7,000 supporters who had ditched work, wives and worries to get there.
Gerrard responded by gritting his teeth and fisting the air. You know the look, the one that betrays his cool exterior and reveals the passion that burns inside.
It was, as the locals told us on the day, the most hysterical unveiling since Paul Gascoigne 23 years earlier.
There is nothing wrong with hysteria, of course. It was, on this occasion, an emotional torrent that meant Gerrard's first words as manager had to be delayed while club staff tried to subdue the noise from those outside - 'He's blue, he's white, he's f****** dynamite, Steve Gerrard'.
'I thought this was going to be a secret!' said Gerrard, grinning.
He is certainly smiling now, and so he should. Sportsmail spent the first six months of Gerrard's reign following Rangers at home and abroad, all the while convinced he would come good on the promise he made on day one.
There was one balmy evening in Villarreal when they trailed after 43 seconds in a Europa League match, on the back of defeat in Gerrard's first Old Firm derby.
In the land of the ceramic tile you wondered if cracks were starting to appear. Absolutely not. Gerrard's tactical tweaks and powers of motivation saw them recover to claim a 2-2 draw that deserved more.
He looked hot and bothered afterwards, club tie and jacket ditched. But even in a sweltering cubby hole that doubled as a press room beneath the Estadio de la Ceramica, Gerrard's demeanour was cool, clever and confident.
'What happened to your jacket and tie?' Sportsmail asked.
'What happened to yours?' he shot back, a suitable put-down for a reporter wearing shorts and polo shirt.
You can see why players want to play for him. His playing career alone demands respect, but he does not rest on that. Commanding respect is always a far more impressive characteristic, and Gerrard does that.
The enormity of his unveiling in May of 2018 was inescapable - the unrelenting noise, the clatter of flash bulbs and, most apparent of all, the bodies, people everywhere inside Ibrox's cramped corridors, each of them scurrying to take their part in what promised to be an historic day. And, on reflection, so it was.
Gerrard has been at the eye of the storm ever since.
'Pressure's not a bad thing for me,' he told us that day. 'I played under pressure, I have lived under pressure since I left school.
'My parents brought me up in life to always front a challenge. If you feel like that challenge is the right one for you, go for it. Go and front it up and give it your best shot. That's exactly what I'm going to do here.'
Gerrard was good to his word. He won.