I’m often oblivious to what is going on in front of me, but there are certain situations in which I miss nothing, such as when I’m giving any kind of speech. If but one person in the audience yawns, or in any way suggests they’re not paying attention, I see it. And it’s a dagger to my heart. This is why I always found presenting to millions on live television a lot easier than addressing even just a couple of dozen people in the flesh. Why, this very evening I am to give a speech to a gathering of dentists in Chislehurst, south-east London. Don’t ask. Just be assured, I am terrified. And I’ll be watching them like hawks.
A couple of Sundays ago I was addressing 500 Christians, and I’m delighted to say that they seemed to stay with me throughout. Well, 499 of them did. One didn’t. The offender was a gentleman in his 70s in the front row. This was an event celebrating the connection between football and Christianity, so the shirt was acceptable. What I couldn’t quite accept was that this chap never took his eyes off his phone, anxiously scrolling and refreshing for all he was worth. But distracting as his distraction was for me, I had to keep my annoyance in check because the gentleman in question was a cardinal.
Cardinal Vincent Nichols is the most senior Roman Catholic in Britain. But that’s not why I forgave him. I made allowances because I knew him to be an avid Liverpool fan, and they were at that moment reaching the closing stages of a match against Fulham. Having said that, it’s not often you get the chance to chastise a cardinal from a lectern, so I chose to do so. “Your Grace,” I said. “What’s the score?”
“3-2 to Fulham,” he replied, miserably.
I asked him what this had done to his faith in his team.
“Shattered,” he said, even more miserably.
Five minutes later, my speech over, he came running over, clapped me on the chest, and said: “Won 4-3! Rejoice!”
I didn’t dare ask him if prayer had played a part in this outcome. A cardinal, even one as happy as this, can only take so much cheek from a member of his flock, after all.
Adrian Chiles is a broadcaster, writer and Guardian columnist
