Story: Munich 2007 – The story behind this autograph

Imagine you’ve got a day off and Rod Stewart is coming to town. That’s exactly what happened in October 2007. At the time, I was living in a suburb east of Munich, working for a major sports news agency, and I had a ticket for the British singer’s concert that evening at Munich’s Olympiahalle. And I did have a day off.
In high spirits, I treated myself to a leisurely breakfast and then set off for the city. My first stop was Harlaching, at FC Bayern Munich’s training ground. At the time, I was a regular at Säbener Straße, where I knew many people and had friends amongst the staff at FC Bayern. The first team were training that morning, which I watched whilst chatting to a few members of the security staff.
I had some time to kill before the concert at the Olympiahalle that evening. The ticket and the official tour programme, which I’d bought earlier in Hamburg, were in my rucksack. And I guarded it more closely than the Crown Jewels are guarded in London.

CONCERT POSTER

In the early afternoon, I made my way into the city centre; my first destination was Marienplatz, where I wanted to run a few errands. Among other things, I visited the ticket office, where I’d spotted a Rod Stewart concert poster and wanted to get hold of it for my collection. I arranged with a friendly member of staff that I could collect the poster after the concert.

From there, I carried on past the Hofbräuhaus and into a side street. There stood – and still stands today – the five-star Mandarin Oriental Hotel, a favourite of a certain Rod Stewart for his stays in Munich. Is that still the case today?

There wasn’t much going on outside the hotel. The concierge stood by the entrance, eyeing up the passers-by as they walked past him. Every now and then, he would hold the door open for arriving guests or take their luggage, before carrying it into the lobby.
There was no sign of Rod Stewart (yet).
I’d made myself comfortable in a small café opposite, from where I could keep a close eye on the hotel and the entrance. And so the minutes and hours slipped by without anything significant happening.
Then it was slowly time to set off for the Olympic Park.

So I trudged back to the Marienplatz underground station, hopped on the U3 there and arrived about 15 minutes later.
From Olympiazentrum station, I walked the five minutes over to the Olympiahalle, where quite a few visitors were already waiting to be let in.
And in the crowd, I bumped into a few familiar faces: Holger from Berlin was there, as were Silke from Düren, Jochen and Marco. The German ‘Rod Army’ was out in force again; we’d last all met up a few months earlier in Hamburg and had celebrated a brilliant after-show party there (until the early hours).
When the doors opened, we quickly popped round to the merchandise stand, then headed straight for our seats. We chatted about the music until the show began, swapping memories of that magnificent evening in Hamburg, and so the time flew by.
Suddenly, the moment had arrived: to the opening notes of “Some Guys Have All The Luck”, Rod danced onto the stage and off we went.

Today – 19 years later – I have only the faintest memories of the concert itself. I can still remember that the show, like all the others that year, was a thrilling experience. The set list for the “Greatest Hits Tour” was influenced by the album “Still The Same – Great Rock Classics Of Our Time”, which had been released in November 2006. So that evening we were treated to Bonnie Tyler’s cult hit “It’s A Heartache”, “Have You Ever Seen The Rain” by CCR and “Father and Son” by Cat Stevens. Of course, Rod also built his set around his own classics that evening, such as “Maggie May”, “Young Turks”, “Hot Legs” and “Baby Jane”. A particular highlight back then – and it still is today – was “Sailing”, a song that, when performed live, has even more power and evokes more emotion than the album version.

OFF TO THE UNDERGROUND

Once the show had finished, I rushed straight to the underground, as I still had something to do. As I mentioned at the start, I had the tour programme with me, which I’d bought earlier in Hamburg. I was more than keen to get it signed. So I hopped on the next underground train and travelled the 15 minutes back into the city centre. From Marienplatz station, I walked briskly back to the Mandarin Oriental Hotel. A little bird had told me that Rod wouldn’t be flying straight home that evening, but wanted to make the most of his visit to Munich by popping into the Michelin-starred restaurant ‘Käfer’.
When I got back to the hotel, a few autograph hunters had already gathered there. Not fans, but the sort of autograph hunters who turn up all over the world and are only too happy to sell the signatures they’ve collected for a lot of money online or at autograph fairs. At any rate, the presence of these people was a fairly sure sign that Rod really would be coming, as autograph hunters are usually very well-informed and well-connected.
But it took a while; an hour passed, almost two – Rod seemed to be really enjoying his meal at the ‘Käfer’.

SLIGHT DISAPPOINTMENT

But then a black Mercedes saloon came round the corner and stopped right in front of the hotel entrance. Immediately, the crowd of autograph hunters surged forward, but were pushed back – loudly and with physical force – by a security guard who had suddenly appeared. I kept a low profile in the background, but already had my pen and tour programme in my hand. Then Rod got out and disappeared into the hotel after just a step or two. Was that it, then? No autograph for me? A feeling of disappointment set in; Rod had got out just two metres in front of me and I hadn’t managed to get near him. So what now? Pack up and head home? Or wait a little longer to see if another chance might arise?
The crowd of autograph hunters was visibly dwindling; many of them had given up and were heading off empty-handed. But I waited a bit longer – my last S-Bahn home left at 2 o’clock. So I still had a little time. Perhaps Rod might fancy a breath of fresh air after all.

LUCA

And suddenly I was all on my own. Even the last autograph hunter had disappeared, and now I was standing all alone in front of the hotel entrance. Time was passing; it was getting later and later. Just as I was about to head home, a man suddenly stepped out of the hotel door. I recognised Luca, Rod Stewart’s personal assistant. I spoke to him, introduced myself briefly and explained that I’d been at the concert and had been waiting there ever since because I’d love to get an autograph in my tour book. Luca looked at me: “Hand over the book,” he said, and then disappeared into the hotel with my tour programme. “I’ll be right back,” he called back. And that’s exactly what happened – about five minutes later he came back out, pressed my tour book into my hand and said, “Rod’s signed it for you.” Wow, that was brilliant. I would have loved to have got the autograph in person, but of course this was perfectly fine too. I thanked Luca and then trotted off blissfully towards the S-Bahn.
When I arrived at Marienplatz, I realised the last train had just left. So I headed to Ostbahnhof, made my way to the late-night kebab shop there and treated myself, at the very late hour, to a kebab (the best in town at that time) and a cold lager. The first train at 5 am then took me home. A fantastic and eventful day had come to an end.