a momentary lapse of reason

As I tap away at the trusty Victrola in Sunday's early morning light I reflect on the events of the week, and in particular yet another senior moment in the life of electrofried.  Please do read on if you're prone to the odd memory-lapse yourself.

This Wednesday saw me train-bound to the wild excesses of Harrogate and the Chartered Institute of Housing's annual bun-fest, accompanied by the usual trusty flotsam of office-colleagues.  We changed at York, long a favourite amongst train-spotters and photographers the world over.

The station is girded by a stunning lattice-work metalled roof of the most intricate beauty.  Fashioned into one long and sensuous curve, it's been funnelling passengers into the North-Eastern railway network since the first train departed at 5:30 am on 25 June 1877.  And it was here that I and my colleagues ventured in search of refreshment at the emporium of Master Costly Coffee.

He was sitting there in the corner when one of my colleagues spotted him.

'It's Gareth Southgate!'


Indeed it was the very same - Gareth Southgate, late of Crystal Palace, Aston Villa and Middlesbrough - player, manager, TV pundit and now Head of Elite Development at the Football Association - sipping quietly at a styrene-foamed muglet of Master Costly Coffee's finest.  As a long-standing fan of the Villa, I summoned up the courage to take but a few steps across to the corner.

Ever felt your brain go to mush ....

I extended a hand, and fatefully uttered the words,

'I've always wanted to meet Gary Linekar!'


Mr Southgate looked up somewhat quizzically, but still deigned to shake the by now trembling hand I had proffered in greeting to him earlier.

'He's a bit older than me, you know.'


A true gentleman, he humoured me for a good five minutes more in light banter, despite the fact my brain had become disconnected from my lips at the very outset of our conversation.  It quite restores one's faith in the old school of footballer.

Well, I don't know what Mr Southgate made of it all, but on my return to the fold of guffawing colleagues I realised my ill-placed words were already in the course of several texts back to the office.  Oh dear, yet another electrofried senior moment, I'm afraid.  But such is life!