The responsibility of being a superstar

Footballers aren't the brightest, If they think they get paid 100k a week for kicking a ball around the field they are very much mistaken. Take away the audience and they are no more then fancy Sunday leaguers. They might not like it but for the money they earn its a full time job 24/7, even when your on holiday or eating in restaurant in Marbella. Do you thin k Tom Cruise wants to hang out talking to everyone he meets for hours on end each day, no chance but he understands that being in your 50's with fading looks you need to work a little harder to be loved.

It would have been as quick and easy to be nice to your nephew as it was to be nasty. Celebrity or not, I’ve got no time for anyone who thinks they can treat other people without respect.

There is an element here that anyone, superstar or otherwise, deserves a level of privacy and to be able to do some of the more mundane things of life. But a simple fact is that if you become a superstar you have to accept that your wealth comes from having fans. Therefore if you go outside amongst the public you have to expect some attention. In this instance it could be argued that Haaland had a responsibility to at the very least be polite about it and if he didn't want a selfie to let him down gently. Instead he not only upset a young fan but also showed himself up in front of many other members of the public who may be much less likely to spend their money following his team in future.

But it should also be remembered that Haaland is a young player who has only come to the publics attention very recently and may still he coming to terms with his fame. What I think a lot of football clubs and record labels etc are very poor at is giving suitable guidance to young stars on how to deal with their fame. We take it for granted that we can pop to the shops or have a meal without being bothered by all and sundry or constantly photographed. Your nephew might have been perfectly polite but Haaland might have just had to eat his dinner whilst constantly seeing people very unsubtly takin out their phones and pointing them in his direction. Your nephew actually approaching him may have been the final straw. But this is where he needs to be supported in dealing with his new found loss of freedom.

The latter although I guess it takes time to get used to.

Most celebs I've encountered by chance have been charming. Michael York particularly spring to mind. 

I was introduced to him at a drinks reception years ago. Obviously he's a very distinguished actor, but it was around the time of his role as Basil Exposition in the Austin Powers films so I couldn't resist making some oblique Austin Powers reference or other, which he could have found tedious. But he just grinned broadly and said, with perfect in-character delivery, "oh behave!" which reduced everyone present to giggles.

Looking at Lewis Hamiltons outfits this year I'd say he is actually expressing himself much more than most sportspeople who turn up to events in their official team clothing. His fashion sense is a bit dodgy admittedly but he does actually wear what he wants and the point of him going to the Met Ball recently was not because he was paid by a big designer to do so but he paid for a table and chose young black designers to join him, one of whom made his outfit. He is perhaps an example of a seasoned sportsman who does all the corporate bullshit he needs to but finds ways to live his own life away from the sport.

Politeness and being civil costs nothing.

But he's second generation footballer so he should have been schooled form an early age on what's expected of you as a professional. You don't need to be a superstar footballer, life's a choice, You can quite happily do as most of us working for the man for a crap wage but the ability to behave as I like when outside the office environment. 

You don't even have to be a famous footballer, plenty of employees of bankers, lawyers, politicians etc get the tin tak for embarrassing their employers outside of work. Its just the workings of the modern world. Footballers tend to be lucky that no matter how murky you are you'll find employment.

I would say a bit of both. You just have to be "about right" and be decent. I would think that applies to fans as well.

That said, if he didn't want to be disturbed at that point he could have said he was finishing his dinner and to pop back over in x minutes, maybe.

A friend of mine saw teddy Sheringham out and about back in the days when he was a mufc player , he said something like ‘thanks for the memories teddy’ to which teddy sheringham told him to ‘fuck off ‘

Pearce is old school. I’ve met him: more interested in talking about punk rock than footie. Had a disagreement with Souness about financial stability vs results (yes, it was about the Arsenal….) and later on he said that’s the beauty of debate: there’s no one view. I’ve met a fair few professional footballers through the Club and in my youth when I knew a few, but they’ve generally been from the pre- Anelka generation (I’ll choose him as a datum point as his career went wank when he realised he and his agent became the product above the team) so had a different perspective on life off the field.

Great documentary with Paul Merson on gambling last night, talking old skool. Filthy industry.

It is odd though when you find yourself face to face with someone so very well-known that they are instantly recognisable and there is no point pretending that you don't know exactly who they are. I always find myself making an effort to be totally blasé about it as if I meet globally famous people on a daily basis and twice on Thursdays.

^
This, plus if you are a "celebrity" surely you would book a private room if you didn't want to be disturbed by fans who recognise you?
Slightly different circumstances, but this show you how to do it:

.

Those are quality encounters.

I've flown a lot in my life and the only time I've sat next to anyone even remotely famous on a plane was oddly enough also on a delayed flight - it was from London City to Zurich and (very unusually) delayed by snow at City airport, and the person in question was Carol Thatcher, daughter of you know who. She was very chatty as we sat there waiting for the plane to be de-iced and rather fun, but clearly slightly bonkers and wearing some sort of enormous bright patchwork poncho more suited to riding a llama through the high Andes than a flight to Switzerland.

Rachel Johnson sat in the row behind us on a flight to Nice once.