Adam Crozier is only an hour and a half late, struggling back to London through the rain from his St Albans press conference. The interviews, the traffic, the rain, you know, sorry, sorry. He steps round the packing cases outside his soon-to-be-vacated Lancaster Gate office, looking even younger than his 36 years. He has his hair slicked back, late-80s adman-style, and is wearing a rather classy charcoal designer suit, single-vent, with blue gingham check shirt open at the neck. Youthful, lithe, compact, you could mistake him for a professional footballer.
It's been a long morning for Crozier. He's still oozing tension, his grey eyes darting anxiously. He's been presenting Sven Goran Eriksson, his pick as the new England football manager, to the British press They, you would guess, are still getting the measure of both men, but especially Crozier, an unknown quantity who came from nowhere (well, Saatchi & Saatchi, but that is nowhere in footie terms) to head up the Football Association that runs English soccer. Three weeks after the last England manager, Kevin Keegan, had made his emotional exit at Wembley, Crozier had surprised everyone by getting probably the world's best manager as replacement. And the reaction?
Crozier thought it had gone well... Well? The second question was something like: OK, Sven, you say you admire English footballers, but in 20 years managing top European teams, you never signed any, did you? Did you?