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I got to spend a couple of hours in the company of an Olympian this afternoon, as I interviewed Sir Chris Hoy for my Book Club podcast, then him and his friend Matt interviewed me for theirs.
I don't have many celebrity fans but Chris has followed me on Twitter for a while and said he likes my stuff, so before talking to him about his moving and positive cancer memoir I had to witness him doing Peter Dibdin impressions to me, which was pretty surreal. Inevitably I suppose the chat about the book was a bit more of a serious chat, though inspiringly upbeat, as we talked about our very different experiences, which still had a lot of crossover. Both of us thought about our children above all else, of course and the book did make me cry because although I feared I was done for, it turned out I wasn't in much danger, but Chris has had to live with a Stage 4 diagnosis and an estimate of two to four more years of life (though he does have hope of living longer with the treatment he is on). We talked about how if it was a film it would seem to be laying it on too thick - the superfit Olympian getting the worst news. It's not fair and it never is (Some cunts must get cancer but you never hear about it), but whatever happens the emotional intelligence of this man will help so many people.
Of course he's a nice man. All of my fans are. I am a magnet for you pricks. I don't know why. I'm horrible.
I got a little cheeky at the end when I suggested what I thought he should have called his book - you'll have to listen next week to find out - but otherwise it's an understandably respectful 45 minutes.
We had a bit more fun in his podcast, which is about comedians' sporting highs and lows and in which I asked Chris if I could have one of his medals (he said I could have the silver) and if he ever pranced around wearing all six golds whilst naked (because I'd do nothing else). The man is a proper comedy fan and up for a laugh and I enjoyed talking about sport and realised how much I liked it, especially the way it brought people together. My only real experience of the power of a team was being in the crew on the Other Boat Race where Martin Cross turned a ragbag of unfit idiots into a fighting unit and the differences I had with crew mates Toby Young and Jonathan Aitken didn't matter at all. It's perhaps an indication of the world we live in that that seems remarkable now.
I also realised that I had wrought a lot of damage on myself and others through sport as my three main memories of sport involved me hitting one of the opposing crew in the head with my oar in the boat race, smashing out Anthony Sewell's two front teeth in a hockey match at school (astonishingly even though he would have been 15 he'd already lost his two front teeth and I knocked out his false ones- still not very nice) and almost being killed when wicket keeping when the ball took a last minute turn and smacked me right between the eyes. The delivery came from school fast bowler Alex Luke. The ball bounced off my head and was caught at first slip (sadly it hadn't made contact with the bat). I still have a dent there, but I survived (I think - I sometimes wonder if my weird life has been a fever dream as I pass away).
I wasn't sporty at school but turned out surprisingly to be a decent middle-distance runner and this podcast also dredged up a memory of completing a 1500 metre race in a games lesson, maybe in first place, but certainly in a medal winning position, only to be greeted by a laughing games teacher, unable to countenance tubby little Herring being so fast and making me do an extra lap. Oh the injustice. That has been simmering away for almost half a century.
Anyway what a privilege it is to do this podcast. I am sometimes a little frustrated by ticket sales and downloads heading downwards (though not yet fatally) and wonder if I should move on to something else after all this time. But where would that kind of thinking have got this blog? Podcast and blog til death. Podcast like no one is listening. In case they aren't.
