First it was Patrice Evra in a shocking pink suit, but as soon as he saw Neymar he abandoned the interview to go over and give the Brazilian a hug. Then it was a quick chat with former actor Lisa Hogan, among her roles a sea lion keeper in Fierce Creatures, who introduced us to her farmhand Jeremy Clarkson.
Jezza, as the interviewer addressed him, seemed to be in exceedingly jolly form, admitting later that he’d had a few beers, but the Duchess of York, aka Sarah ‘Fergie’ Ferguson, was entirely sober. “How are you my dear? I used to know you from the old days”, she beamed, before explaining why she was there. “I chose to come to support the Crown Prince and Bahrain! I love Bahrain!”
And then the search began for the Crown Prince, our interviewer barging through mountains of folk who might well have been A-listers, but, to be honest, he wouldn’t know Harry Redknapp from Hillary Clinton. Alas, the Crown Prince was nowhere to be seen, possibly too busy locking up democratic-reform-protesters, so Mercedes driver George Russell stepped in to fill the gap.
[ Max Verstappen eases to dominant Bahrain Grand Prix winOpens in new window ]
D’you know the way you can end up having weird dreams after watching wall-to-wall sport over a weekend, ones where completely random characters, like, say, George Galloway, Jamie Oliver and Taylor Swift, pop up in sporting settings and intermingle with, say, Dónal Óg Cusack, Billie Jean King and Bryson DeChambeau?
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Is there anything good about the 2034 World Cup going to Saudi Arabia?
That’s kind of how Martin Brundle’s grid walks are, where else would you see Patrice, Jezza and Fergie all gathered in the one place, apart from, maybe, the unveiling of the line-up for the 2024 I’m a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here?
Of course, those of us who tune in for these grid walks, as we did on Saturday in advance of the start of the Formula 1 season, and then tune out as soon as the race starts, deserve nothing but scorn. A bit like those who record the Super Bowl and then just fast-forward to the half-time show. But what’s the point in watching when there’s as much chance of Max Verstappen losing as there is of Bryson DeChambeau making a better ratatouille than Jamie Oliver?
If Kellie Harrington, Rhys McClenaghan and Daniel Wiffen had popped up on that grid alongside Bosco, Ursula von der Leyen and Oprah Winfrey, you wouldn’t have blinked, but instead they opted to appear on The Late Late Show on Friday, showing off all the medals they have accumulated and sharing their ambitions for Paris.
The stars of the show were Daniel and his identical twin Nathan, and when we say identical we’re talking indistinguishable here. “For all you know, I’m actually Nathan”, as Daniel said to Patrick Kielty.
Between them, they eat 14,000 calories a day, Daniel’s favourite nosh an aubergine salad. Did his Ma, who was in the audience, make him said dish when he was a young fellah? Most certainly not. “It’s far from aubergine salad you were reared”, as Patrick told him. “Notions.”
Derry, as it proved, had notions too when they thought they could beat the Dubs. But their cause wasn’t helped on Saturday evening by Mickey Harte’s decision to field an understrength team. This resulted in what promised to be a firecracker of a game turning in to the dampest of squibs.
“It’s not in Mickey Harte’s psyche to not go and try and take a big scalp,” said a flummoxed Seán Cavanagh. “Maybe he’s going soft in his old age,” Ciarán Whelan suggested. “It’s definitely not the Tyrone in him”, said Seán, “maybe it’s the Derry coming out in him”.
If the Derry air had mellowed Mickey, it had Marty Morrissey nigh on comatose. “I think I’ve moved quicker than some of the lads on the field”. he sighed in the closing stages.
Much the same might have been said of Manchester United’s rearguard in the second half of the derby against City on Sunday, Victor Lindelöf, for example, responding to a Phil Foden shuffle with all the pace of a three-toed sloth.
“You said this week that you could smell that your players are in a good place”, Sky’s Patrick Davison had said to Erik ten Hag prematch. By full-time, City, inevitably, came up smelling of roses, the only consolation for United Marcus Rashford’s wonder goal. After which he wore the look of a man who would rather have been on the grid in Bahrain with Patrice, Jezza and Fergie than on a football pitch. No matter. Foden? He didn’t want to be anywhere but on that pitch. He’s useful, that lad.
