It was ten in the morning on the 1st of October last year. I had made plans to catch a football game at League One side Hartlepool United and was on my way to the Durham Bus Station. Walking down Claypath, I noticed a familiar-looking man cross the road in front of me. He was smartly dressed with a pair of shades and it took me three seconds to register that it was Roy Hodgson - current West Brom manager and England manager-elect - and another five to pluck up the courage to approach him. 'Mr Hodgson! May I have your autograph, please?' Thankfully, I had neglected to remove my lecture pad from my sling-bag. 'Sure,' he replied cordially, 'What's your name?' I remember how utterly nervous I was, still in disbelief at having bumped into the man who saved Fulham from relegation and took them to the Europa League Final. As I passed him my pad, I casually asked what he was doing in Durham. He told me that his side were playing against Sunderland that afternoon. 'I hope you beat them!' I responded, and told him that I was a Newcastle fan. He chuckled and said that he hoped so too. I've been a huge admirer of his and closely followed his unfancied Fulham side's defeats of the likes of Juventus and Hamburg as the team reached the final where they narrowly lost to Athletico Madrid. 'I'm a big admirer.' ' You're very kind,' he smiled. At that moment, I realised that I had brought my camera out for the day trip at the Pools and asked if I could take a photograph with him. Thankfully, there was a lady crossing over and she duly agreed to help us snap a picture. I didn't realise that while I was searching for my camera, poor Roy had to bend over and sign with the pad supported by his left thigh. As we posed for the photograph, my legs were trembling. I found it tremendously difficult to stay calm, having been presented with this unexpected privilege. As we parted ways, he fondly shook my hand and wished me well. Yes, I must have taken some five minutes of his precious time but he never looked, for one moment, impatient.
Having been unveiled as the man to lead England for the next four years, I can't help but feel happy for Roy. However, I was hoping that he would turn the job down and continue his good work at West Brom. Harry Redknapp had been the odds-on favourite of the English media and of many England supporters and Roy has signed up for an arduous journey ahead as he tackles Harry's ghost on top of having to bring success to the English national team. Having said this, I'm not positing that Harry would do a better job. Roy's, in my opinion (and I'm sure many will agree), an infinitely more likable character and has vast experience managing out of England, experiencing considerable success in his previous assignments. I'm just saying that the media and fans would have been more patient with Harry and he would not have had to begin on square one in terms of having to win the players and the media over. I sincerely hope that the nation gets behind Roy and gives him a chance to show why he's one of the most respected gaffers around. It's my turn to wish him the very best.
It was ten in the morning on the 1st of October last year. I had made plans to catch a football game at League One side Hartlepool United and was on my way to the Durham Bus Station. Walking down Claypath, I noticed a familiar-looking man cross the road in front of me. He was smartly dressed with a pair of shades and it took me three seconds to register that it was Roy Hodgson - current West Brom manager and England manager-elect - and another five to pluck up the courage to approach him. 'Mr Hodgson! May I have your autograph, please?' Thankfully, I had neglected to remove my lecture pad from my sling-bag. 'Sure,' he replied cordially, 'What's your name?' I remember how utterly nervous I was, still in disbelief at having bumped into the man who saved Fulham from relegation and took them to the Europa League Final. As I passed him my pad, I casually asked what he was doing in Durham. He told me that his side were playing against Sunderland that afternoon. 'I hope you beat them!' I responded, and told him that I was a Newcastle fan. He chuckled and said that he hoped so too. I've been a huge admirer of his and closely followed his unfancied Fulham side's defeats of the likes of Juventus and Hamburg as the team reached the final where they narrowly lost to Athletico Madrid. 'I'm a big admirer.' ' You're very kind,' he smiled. At that moment, I realised that I had brought my camera out for the day trip at the Pools and asked if I could take a photograph with him. Thankfully, there was a lady crossing over and she duly agreed to help us snap a picture. I didn't realise that while I was searching for my camera, poor Roy had to bend over and sign with the pad supported by his left thigh. As we posed for the photograph, my legs were trembling. I found it tremendously difficult to stay calm, having been presented with this unexpected privilege. As we parted ways, he fondly shook my hand and wished me well. Yes, I must have taken some five minutes of his precious time but he never looked, for one moment, impatient.
Good job Reuben, nice shot and tremendous to see that a person in his position is gracious and humble :)
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