I saw Mohamed Al Fayed several times when he owned Fulham football club. He was clearly adored by the home fans, and before every match he would do a circuit of the Craven Cottage pitch wearing a black and white Fulham scarf, milking the applause for all it was worth.
I was less impressed when my daughter Kat and I saw him leaving the stadium after a defeat by Manchester United. He was surrounded by a phalanx of security guards dressed in black suits and white shirts plus shades.
Al Fayed clearly enjoyed this physical expression of power, and smirked as his men ploughed their way through the throng of mainly United supporters, bundling people aside. When my daughter saw me almost pushed to the ground by one of the guards, she was infuriated, and rammed into him, much to the delight of the crowd. Kat slipped away, like a cat in the night.
