I’d kind of idolised Nick Faldo from a very young age. At a time when all I really thought and cared about was golf. It was Nick Faldo who stood out from the field for me. His swing was a masterpiece in flowing rythm. If he’d been a sculptor he’d be a Rodin, as a poet a Gerald Manley Hopkins.
So get the surprise I got the other day when I suddenly realised that I was standing next to him in the foyer of The Fairmont. I wasn’t going to say anything at first but then I thought hell why not.
‘Nick, can I just tell you that your rythmic swing was a real inspiration for me as a kid’
Nick looked at me with a face devoid of emotion and may I say of much intelligence. It was kind of a blob of unmoving slightly over-lived arrogance if you get my drift.
In response (if I can bring myself to use the word ‘response’) turning around and briefly looking at me, he didn’t utter one syllable or give away any other indication of being a sentient human being for about 3 to 5 seconds.
At which point I’m sure some neurons must have kicked in as he turned back to the group he was with.
Quite incredible really. I mean he could have given even a small Dominic Raab wink or a smile or at a push he could have proferred a ‘That’s nice’ or ‘I’m glad’ maybe? He could even have had a stab at a joke.
But no. There was this kind of emotionless vacuum. From my perspective it was as if he had just navigated past a piece of dog turd.
To be honest though I wasn’t that surprised from what I’d heard about the man. Shame that he’s so obviously very wrapped up in himself.
I will tell you a wee amusing anecdote from yesterday at The Fairmont though.
Bruce our lovely down to earth concierge from Forfar was talking to this man. The man finished by saying to Bruce ‘you don’t know who I am do you?’
Bruce didn’t know who the man was and said so. The man seemingly then just walked away.
And we don’t yet know who he was.
Unfortunately.
Interesting times amongst the rich and famous.
Well the famous-ish I should say!