Leeds, Sheffield United and Burnley are all vying for Premier League returns but fans will ask if it’s really worth it

Tibetan Buddhist monks will spend months working in cold conditions, icing their fingers, enduring significant discomfort, to create gorgeously detailed sculptures out of yak’s butter. And then they will destroy the sculptures, leaving them out in the sun to melt.

For anybody connected with a Championship club, the sentiment will be familiar. At some level, most clubs exist to feed those higher up the pyramid. So why would a fan emotionally invest in a young star, even a local one, knowing he is unlikely to hang around for more than two or three years? And if a team are promoted, at least half the side will probably have to be upgraded to offer even a chance of survival. When the gulf between divisions is so vast, everything is fleeting, team-building an act of permanent evolution. What monks do to convey the understanding that life is transient and that the artefact is far less important than the act of creation, Daniel Farke and Chris Wilder are doing because football’s economics demand it.