When worlds collide
I remember as a young schoolboy about 15 years ago (it's true) getting up in the early hours so that I could listen to the Frank Bruno - Mike Tyson fight on the radio. I imagine that I wasn't alone. I'm not a massive boxing fan but there's something kind of special, even romantic about listening to distant sports events on a crackling radio. Around that time Tyson was one of the biggest superstars in the world.
Back to the present day and I'm stood waiting for CJ outside a shop in Heathrow when a large black man with a distinctive tattoo around his left eye comes out of the shop. For a split second he caught my eye, then he was gone.
In that split second the schoolboy and the mega star were in the same world. I could tell Mike felt the gravity of the situation too, and that he wanted to be my friend - why else would he arrange for BA to give us an upgrade which allowed us to sit about 10 rows back from him on the flight so that I could stare burn marks into the back of his seat and watch his every move.
Mike arranged it didn't he?
I know he did.
Back to the present day and I'm stood waiting for CJ outside a shop in Heathrow when a large black man with a distinctive tattoo around his left eye comes out of the shop. For a split second he caught my eye, then he was gone.
In that split second the schoolboy and the mega star were in the same world. I could tell Mike felt the gravity of the situation too, and that he wanted to be my friend - why else would he arrange for BA to give us an upgrade which allowed us to sit about 10 rows back from him on the flight so that I could stare burn marks into the back of his seat and watch his every move.
Mike arranged it didn't he?
I know he did.
