As bartenders go, he was very popular.
Always willing to stop and talk. To pause just long enough when the place was busy and to share a drink and a chat when it was quiet. Naturally, being located across the street from the football stadium, those that regularly visited the pub had a predictable preference for talking football. Discussing the way a game went, how it should have gone, or the good judgement or otherwise of a particular referee. There always seemed to be a great deal to talk about, regarding the sport itself, the players, the team managers and owners, the rules, the price of admission, and so on. The bartender was always there with a knowledgeable contribution. He would dissect games with the best of them. He knew all of the teams, along with the names of most of the players within them. He knew the names of the coaches and the managers, along with their histories. It’s fair to say that he did very well for tips.
After closing time each evening, when he and the pub owner had cleared away, he left for home, taking his secret with him. It was safe.
No one would ever think to ask if he actually liked football.