His story: Alastair Campbell, 57, author, broadcaster and political strategist
I first knew Paul when, as a teenage fan falling in love with the game, I watched him play and I thought he was a terrific footballer [Fletcher scored 71 goals in 293 appearances for Burnley]. After he retired he moved into the business of football stadia and then became chief executive of Burnley. We always, always, always have a laugh and he always, always, always takes the piss out of me.
He just compèred my book launch and the first thing he said was: “I’ve been doing some research and talking to your missus and your kids and what the audience want to know is: ‘Why do you always wear women’s clothes at home?’” That’s the juvenile level of his humour, but Fletch is actually also a very thoughtful guy.
He’s very thoughtful about football, he’s one of the few players who has gone into business afterwards. He has a tattoo saying All You Need Is Love on his arse. Don’t ask how I know that. We don’t talk about politics much. When I was high profile, he might say: “Oh, you’ve had a bit of a rough week.”
We talk about more personal stuff – our shared love of musicals, or my depression. Paul is one of those infectious people who lifts your mood. He’s a joker, but with huge emotional intelligence and when I’m going to a football match, part of the escape is meeting up with him and his grandson, Morgan.
The thing Fletch always brings up is me banging on about the time I played with Pelé, but Pelé actually only managed a team I played in. The real story is that I played in a game with Maradona. I passed it to him and he passed it back. That’s better than anything Paul Fletcher has ever done.
His story: Paul Fletcher, 64, MD, University College of Football Business
Most Premier League teams have film stars who are their club’s most famous supporters, but Alastair is Burnley’s highest-profile fan so the directors used to invite him into the boardroom. I was aware of him before that and I thought he’d be a real boring fart, but he wasn’t.
He is very down to earth, very much one of the boys and we struck up an immediate friendship. I would take the mickey out of him and he would take the mickey out of me. He’s one of those fans who would love to have been a player. He’s always talking about playing with Eusébio and Pelé, but Pelé was about 73 when that happened, and Alastair was only about 42 so they were about equal then.
I never see that Malcolm Tucker side of him. There must be a tough Alastair Campbell somewhere, but we at Burnley Football Club don’t see it. He is well liked here. We’ve both been in stressful jobs where you’re accountable to thousands – in Alastair’s case millions – and you need a humour valve. Hopefully I can provide that when he needs to escape London’s pressures and his mental-health problems.
We never seriously talk politics or religion, but if we do disagree it’s a bit like me and the wife. I’m right and he’s wrong. We’ll have a bit of banter about David Cameron and Ed Miliband, but he’ll never persuade me to wear a red scarf as I’m a Conservative voter. Even though he’s used to standing in the pulpit and giving his sermons I’m normally correct. He’ll end up saying: “You know, Fletch, you were right and I was wrong.” I admire him for that.
Alastair Campbell’s Winners: And How They Succeed is out now. To order a copy for £11.19, go to bookshop.theguardian.com
Follow the Observer Magazine on Twitter @ObsMagazine
