Sir Alex, Sir Bobby and an interrupting fat paw

I’ve read two biographies of Sir Alex Ferguson, the most successful Manchester United (and English football) manager  ever. In those books, I read how he clawed his way up from the dockyards of Glasgow and later became a Rangers player. How as a young unknown manager, he took an unfashionable Scottish team, Aberdeen, to the European Cup Winners’ Cup and European Super Cup, and later ended up at United’s helm, where for over 22 years, he’s handled the careers of footballing legends such as Eric Cantona, Ryan Giggs, David Beckham, the other Fledglings and others. I marveled at the way he dealt with the trials and tribulations offered by the world of football management and he remains one of my all time heroes.

Today, I shook his hand at the Bukit Jalil stadium.

My seats for the Malaysia v Man Utd match were good ones, but I had no idea how great they were. Only after the match ended did I realise that the players would have to walk up the stairs next to my row of seats. As such, as the players came up in file, I, like to many others, extended my hand to offer a handshake. Rio passed by, no handshake. Nani next, no handshake. Ditto Gary Neville, Wayne Rooney and van der Sar. Sure, they did a few cursory high fives with some, but I didn’t get one.

Then I spotted Sir Alex, last in line. He offered a few smiles at the well-wishers lined up along the stairs as he made the trek up, and even shook a few hands. My chances looked good. As he walked near me, I just hollered out a strangled “Sir Alex!” and offered my hand. He took it and smiled and continued his walk up to receive the medal and shield from the Sultan of Pahang.

That wasn’t it. Later, as my sister Ann and I walked out of the royal box, we saw Sir Bobby Charlton making his way out. I froze and told Ann who he was. Ever the intrepid reporter, she actually chased him and cornered the old man, hollering, “Sir Bobby! Can my brother take a picture with you? He’s your biggest fan!”

Sir Bobby turned and smiled. “Oh really? Come on then.” he said. Ann took our photo. Not a great shot by any means, as some big fat oaf beside her managed to get his lardy paws into the frame, but pfft, better than nothing.

Not a bad day at all.

First

As I write this, it is 3:36am and I’m seated at my desk in the office. I’ve been here for more than 12 hours.
This isn’t unusual. This is me, this is my work and this is my life. Girlfriends have stated (quite correctly) that the two – my work and life – are one and the same. Most of the time, I don’t really bother to argue.
My name is Najmuddin Najib and I’m a journalist for the country’s oldest newspaper, The Malay Mail.

This is my blog.

(Wah. So drama.)