I met the Beckhams once. It was while I was writing for an English newspaper. The publication had
just been taken over and the new owner was giving the couple a guided tour of his new building.
Newspaper journalists, I should explain, are cool customers. They don't look up from their
screens for anything other than a fire alarm. Dave and Vicky, though, caused a stir. Or should
I call them Becks and Posh. Or Taurus and Aries?
It was like getting a visit from Royalty. Even
the hard-nosed hacks stood to attention. David, rather like Prince Philip, shuffled along quietly,
a few paces behind, while his wife regally greeted the troops. When it came to my turn, I went all
wobbly and saw a vision of their future that was both fascinating... and dull.
Later, I checked
their charts. It's all there, too. Forget those gossip columns, alleged affairs, dodgy documentaries,
and even the naughty new neighbours in Milan. These two will be together forever, long after he's
stopped playing away... and that group of hers has had to be renamed the Spice Crones.
