I promised you stories from the press box, so here is the first instalment.
My first day in the press box was on the Saturday; I got there as early as fuck, which was lucky cause it took me hours to finally work out how to log into the Internet.
After a while the press box started to fill up, and I said hello to those I knew, and kept my head down as much as I could.
Just before the day started someone eased into the seat behind me, I turned to realise it was Richie.
For the next few hours I was acutely aware he was behind me.
He doesn’t say anything, he is probably the quietest guy in the press box, the only time I heard the familiar voice was when someone asked him a direct question.
It took me all day to get up the courage to talk to him.
I waited until no one was around to talk to him, it seemed wrong to talk to him when everyone was around.
The conversation was pretty short, “Hi Richie, I just wanted to say what a fan I have been over the years”, “Thank you very much, who do you write for…”
And then a Channel 5 lady came over, and we never got to finish our conversation.
It was a shame.
But the story does not end there.
Later on, after Mark Nicholas had told Richie to hurry up, and generally treated him like a revered and yet time wasting grandparent, Richie came back to pack up for the day.
It was a bit rainy out, and Richie thought he should put on his raincoat, and oh what a raincoat.
It was knee length.
Double breasted.
Giant buttons.
And Beige.
I shit you not.
Somehow I managed to keep from laughing.
He is a class act. I so want that raincoat.
Probably just as well you were interupted. You might have given him a heart attack.
Did Spanky offer to take you in hand and give you some after hours “training”?
2nd slip, Don’t spoil the ending.