You can tell a lot from who replies to autograph requests
I'm still waiting to hear from Gordon Brown, but I've given up all hope of Sven Göran Eriksson. I wrote to Sven just before Euro 2004, offering him a few tips. Not on football, though I am a total expert, but about the Lisbon hotel where the England team were based. I'd recently stayed there, so I warned him that a five-a-side pitch in the grounds was overlooked by a block of flats - beware German spies with long lenses - and that the medical room's asthma inhaler was out of date. Paul Scholes might get a sudden attack. Best be prepared.
All jolly sensible advice you must admit. Did I get a thank you? Nope. Not even an acknowledgement from one of the FA's many young office girls. Too busy doing other things. I thought that's it, Sven, your days are numbered.
Over the decades, I've done pretty well with letters to the famous. When I was about ten, along with my best friend Reggie Hill, I wrote to our hero: Captain W E Johns, author of the Biggles books. Amazingly, he wrote back in his own hand. It led to the most terrible argument between me and Reg about who was to keep the letter. Strangely enough, Reg today has no memory of this.
Eighteen years ago, Jessica from next door, aged about twelve, came to ask me if I could help her get Gazza's autograph. It's hard to remember now, but after the 1990 World Cup, and those tears, a whole generation of impressionable young girls fell madly in love with Gazza. I hadn't met him, didn't know anyone in the then Spurs team, but I said try this address, 748 High Road, Tottenham, pretending it was a piece of inside information rather than printed on every programme.
I felt guilty for encouraging her. He'll be inundated, no chance it will even be opened. Blow me, by return Jessica got the most marvellous signed photo of Gazza, plus a personal note.
Players themselves are fans. At club dinners, charity dos, they like to get their menu signed by any stars present. Swapping shirts is another sign. It's always the best-known player who has the most people round him at the end of the game, trying to strip him. I noticed Deco the other week swapping his shirt at half time with an opposition player, as if he was going off, but he came back. I wondered if the player was an old colleague, or just a humble fan from another Prem team.
I wrote to Tony Blair the day he became PM, explaining I have a collection of PM's autographs going back to Walpole. He replied within a week, on 10 Downing Street headed paper - a standard thank you, but adding a personal note at the end. Perfect for my collection. I was well made up.
The day Gordon took over, I did the same. I also enclosed a copy of my book The Glory Game, knowing he was a football fan. Silence for two months. I wrote again, asking if it had arrived. Then in December some lowly person wrote back, saying there was no record of my book, or my letter. "Signed photos are currently unavailable, however we will bear your request in mind, should they become available." I hadn't actually asked for one, but would have treasured it, if it had ever come.
Gazza and Blair, I look upon them as people who like to be liked, unlike Sven and Gordon who don't seem to care either way. Which of course is stupid. Obviously top politicians, like famous football persons, don't open their own post, especially from people they don't know. They have staff - staff who work under instructions. You can't make generalisations from such trivia. Or can you?
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