You didn’t really believe Bruno Guimarães would let such a landmark pass him by, did you? For his latest trick – and to mark his 100th Newcastle appearance – one half of United’s Brazilian bash brothers sauntered down the supermarket aisles of his own self-regard and plucked an away winner from the top shelf.

And in that moment, rage turned to radge, fume to fun. Minutes previously, you see, Fabian Schär had reason to believe he would be the moment’s man. Then VAR. Always VAR. See below for more – it deserves no more airtime up here.

Back to Bruno, a lad who in recent times has frequently performed a more than passable impression of a one-man midfield three, the footballing equivalent of a multi-instrument busker (complete with harmonica affixed close to the lips).

In the seconds post-scoring, Bruno did as Bruno does. He cupped his ears goofily; he gave the club crest a sloppy smack or three; he lapped up the affection freely heaped upon him. It was all very lovely.

It was also not the first time In this bi-polar season that Bruno has decisively channelled his anger into a force for good – Nottingham Forest, anyone? Please let it not be the last time, either.

Scoring is a far better outlet for emotion, anyway. For too long it was bookings, nine of those leaving him treading a lengthy disciplinary high wire. 10 down; one to go. C’mon Bruno lad, you can do it.

By close, in balmy sunshine and with summer starting to feel within striking distance (a few miles north, Lord’s was hosting county cricket) there was even time for a little basking. It has not, after all, been a bad week, has it?

Seven points, eighth place, and Europe still in reach. True, but for some retro Paul Dummett “defending” in midweek, it would been the full nine. Football, though, rarely works like that.

And anyway, had Fulham been out of sight within the half hour, United could have had little complaint. For 25 minutes, Newcastle’s back line was as exposed, as seemingly out of its depth, as the Premier League is ever likely to see. Yes, there are enough folk currently injured to pack out a Thames boat trip, but that excuse, or reason, or whatever you want to call it, only stretches so far.

There is little mitigation for the space Fulham were afforded, or for Newcastle players being passed around like training cones. Disaster was averted simply because of home profligacy.

The turning point, or at least the juncture at which United started actually playing, was an impromptu Eddie Howe team talk. Well, it looked that way to the untrained eye, anyway.

Now from the other side of a Craven Cottage it is impossible to know whether he, or Jason Tindall, gave the signal. You’ll be familiar with the one as you’ll have spotted it before. It means that shortly there will be a small goalkeeping niggle that conveniently allows those in the technical area to have a little input.

Martin Dúbravka did, in fairness, look to genuinely be struggling. Fulham supporters did not buy it, nor did Marco Silva – he was blunt about that in the post-match pleasantries. Pressed on the point, Howe insisted that Dúbravka was in pain. That statement, though, was accompanied by an extended touch of his left ear– the amateur psychs amongst you can draw your own conclusions.

Whatever was said in that mini-break (or, as Gary Neville might call it, mini-in-game-retirement) it was impactful. The words were inaudible, but Howe’s face, one which could have busted the rage-o-meter, said plenty.

He wore a similar expression a little later, too, albeit this time his ire was directed at the officials. It happened a little something like this: Schär had neatly taken a touch and finished from Anthony Gordon’s cross. Schär then celebrated with his teammates and supporters. Both sets of players then returned to their positions for the re-start. So far, so good.

Then Jarred Gillet, the VAR referee in a room hundreds of miles away, suggested Sam Allison, the actual referee in the stadium who had watched it unfold live, take another look – Dan Burn may or may not have fouled Calvin Bassey as the ball came over. Allison looked. He looked again. He looked another couple of times. Eventually, he ruled that a foul had been committed.

Now, the neutral could describe it as a margin call. That would be fair enough. But the point is this (and the point is not a new one): such a happening does not a clear and obvious error make. Stop re-refereeing games. Anyway, it didn’t matter In the end. The win came.

It was not the best of Newcastle, but it was a performance of character, of resilience. One of digging deep, of running down the clock, and of finding just about enough when the time came.

It was glorious to have Gordon back, likewise Harvey Barnes and Elliot Anderson who were bright from the bench. To those chastising Howe for not starting the latter pair, pipe down. Would we loved to have seen them from the off? Yes. Are both back from lengthy layoffs? Did both play decent minutes in midweek? Are we already threadbare? Yes, yes, and yes.

More importantly, are we still dreaming of Europe? Yes.

Sam Dalling