About this series
Close encounters: Kevin Donovan
24 November 2003
27 October 1999. I remember it well. I'd just moved back to the Leeds area from my six-month 'get back to your roots'/'run away and sort your life out' posting in Grimsby. The 27th was my birthday and I, along with my best buddy Gobes, had decided to have a few drinks, play a bit of pool, and take the day as it came. After a short lunchtime pool session in the Elbow Rooms - complete with a performance-enhancing four beers (maybe Galli was onto something) - we decided to go for a mooch in town. For some reason only known to ourselves, we took a very indirect route which took us along the railway arches passing across the front of a public car park.
Buoyed by the, ahem, totally liquid nature of our lunch, I wasn't paying much attention to any possibility of traffic leaving the car park. Until I heard a car's engine in my right ear. I turned to see a rather swank car unable to drive on because of my leisurely stroll across its route. And then I looked up to see the driver. I lifted my hand to apologise and moved out of the car's way. I quickly did a double-take as the car started to roll off, to see that it was indeed Kevin Donovan who I had just impeded. I was surprised. Given Kevin's form that season I'd have expected him to run into me.