Tales from the riverside

Amid the great and the glamorous sipping champagne at Sotheby’s recently when Sebastian Faulks launched his new novel, A Week in December, one diminutive figure caught the eye as he moved effortlessly among the mini-burgers and drizzled tuna, exchanging a pleasantry here, a smile there, chatting to teenage boys, rock stars, highbrow literary types and even the odd politician. It was Fulham boss Roy Hodgson, well-known book-lover, friend of Faulks and arguably a man who should be football’s manager of the month in perpetuity. As my friend Mike points out, ‘These are the good old days at Craven Cottage.’

In just a couple of weeks Hodgson’s team have held £200 million Manchester City to a hard-fought draw, failed to beat AS Roma by a whisker and also malleted Liverpool 3-1. But, as Mike and any good Cottager will tell you, it’s not just the results, it’s the gaffer. He is not only as tactically acute as Arsène Wenger, and as commercially savvy too, he is one of the most engaging men in football, maintaining dignity, and an essential kindliness, despite all the pressures of managing one of the Premiership’s ‘lesser’ teams. Craven Cottage is the nicest place to go to in the top league. No question about it. Ask anyone.

Hodgson achieved a miracle when he kept Fulham in the Premiership on the last match of the 2007-08 season at Fratton Park, pipping Reading on goal difference. Now for all Fulham fans he might as well not bother using Putney Bridge to cross the river. He’s relaxed, humorous, speaks five languages, and by my count, has managed 14 clubs in seven countries. In a recent interview with the Independent, Hodgson talked about his enjoyment of reading — he had read and reread almost everything by Kundera, Updike and Roth and was currently reading Homecoming by Bernhard Schlink.