David Parkin on a Grand DeParty, David Beckham and the Great Yorkshire Show

SO how was it for you?

Even almost a week on, you don’t need to ask what I’m talking about.

It’s clear that the Tour de France Grand Depart was an overwhelming success in Yorkshire. The estimates of more than 2.5m spectators lining the route over its two days in Yorkshire are testament to that.

But what I find most impressive is that I have yet to find anyone with negative views about this sporting spectacle.

And when was the last time that that happened? Even a Yorkshire sporting icon like Geoffrey Boycott had to put up with a bit of chuntering about his batting style and couldn’t galvanise opinion so positively.

It was pointed out that aside from the logistical success of hosting such a huge event, the really clever thing was not imposing such a big event on a community from above, but building it from grass roots by getting every person on every street in every village to buy into it with their bunting, their bikes – whether painted yellow or created out of pork pies, or changing the name of their local pub – that’s what achieved such spirit.

I watched the finish on both days. On Sunday I was at Yorkshire media and marketing agency Jaywing’s Sheffield head office where they had a ‘Grand De-party’ in their office and out in the car park.

It was organised brilliantly down to tiny details, like spray painting the stones in the car park yellow and having a yellow ping pong ball for the table tennis.

Chief executive Martin Boddy pointed out that if a company like theirs couldn’t brand, host and plan an event like that, they would have a problem.

But events are very hard things to do really well. When was the last time you went to an event and couldn’t find fault with it? Jaywing got it spot on – and they are nice people too.

:::

I WATCHED Saturday’s race finish in Harrogate from the first floor balcony of the Yorkshire Hotel overlooking the Stray as a guest of perky hosts Caroline Pullich and Karen Swainston of Barclays.

The atmosphere was phenomenal, the weather perfect and the TV pictures of the race were like a five-hour promotional film for Yorkshire tourism.

Even an encounter with a blonde recruiter (she said it was executive search) from Harrogate on the lookout for David Beckham failed to dampen my spirits.

Regular readers will know that I seldom find common ground with blonde recruiters from Harrogate.

This obsession with David Beckham flying in to view the race was bizarre. Rationality goes out the window when many women think of the former footballer.

The day before the race rumours were rife that Beckham had flown in by helicopter to Oulton Hall, the Devonshire Arms or Rudding Park with an entourage that included Johnny Depp, Brad Pitt, Bradley Cooper or even Sir Bradley Wiggins, taken over the whole hotel and paid a wedding party anything between £30k and £300k for them to move their wedding elsewhere.

Then there were the ‘genuine’ sitings of him everywhere from Pannal Post Office to Greggs in Skipton.

When someone posted a photo on Facebook of Beckham posing with a girl in a Greggs shop, one woman I know pointed to the photo on her phone and said to me: “See, I told you he was here.”

I gently pointed out that it was one of the warmest days of the year, so why was he wearing a thick jumper, heavy boots and a woolen cap?

Given the abilities of the paparazzi to search out celebrity and the ever presence of social media in our lives, don’t you think just one photo of Beckham would have emerged had he been in Yorkshire?

For my part, guests at the Yorkshire Hotel included former athlete Sally Gunnell and the bloke off some TV property programme called Restoration Man.

The blonde recruiter perked up when she spotted him and shot off, leaving me to wave regally to the crowds below.

An elderly Japanese tourist started taking photos of me, apparently she thought I looked like a young Wilfrid Hyde-White.

:::

OF course the credit for all of this does have to go to that one man who whether you love or loathe him is the only person in the world who could and would have pulled this off for Yorkshire.

Welcome to Yorkshire chief executive Gary Verity had a vision and went out and delivered it.

The calls for him to receive a knighthood had started even before the peleton had left Yorkshire.

But we also have to remember that this could not have been done by just one man.

It was truly a team effort, even though it was only Big V we saw hobnobbing with the royals and poking his head out of the roof of a red Skoda at the head of the peloton.

It was a huge financial and logistical effort that happened thanks to the backing of many organisations, particularly the local authorities across the region, who, at a time of continuing austerity, took the brave decision to help deliver what Tour de France officials have called the grandest of Grand Departs.

Sir Rodney Walker, chairman of TdFHUB2014, which coordinated the opening stages of the Tour de France, very quietly in the background, helped to deliver the project and was also a steady hand on the tiller to keep Gary grounded.

And lets not forget Clare Morrow, the Welcome to Yorkshire chairman whose decision it was to recruit Big V, a pretty radical step back when it was simply the Yorkshire Tourist Board.

So while Gary has taken the plaudits, this was a huge team effort and everyone involved deserves great credit.

:::

THE Eve of Tour dinner held at Leeds Arena last Friday was a strange do. The invitation didn’t help, saying the dress code was ‘lounge suits or black tie’.

So while I was assured that most of the great and good there would be wearing black tie, the guests were wearing a mix of formal and informal outfits.

Given the Tour de France is only likely to visit Yorkshire once in a blue moon, I decided to dress up and wear a midnight blue velvet jacket kindly provided by Simon Berwin of Leeds-based tailoring giant Berwin & Berwin.

I’d worn it once before at a fashion show (don’t worry, I was compereing not modelling).

Despite the excited anticipation of the weekend ahead, the event was a bit flat, but a highlight was Big V speaking with a strange new accent that made it sound like English was his second language (if in doubt, speak slowly and throw in a ‘for sure’ at the end of every other sentence).

I was sitting with the new Lord Mayor of Leeds and his lady mayoress as well as Lord Ken Woolmer and his wife Lady Janice.

I chatted to the former Labour MP about transport and mentioned that I thought the Chancellor’s HS3 idea should be delivered before HS2.

Lord Ken didn’t agree and gave me a stern lecture on my folly, saying HS2 is essential to the country.

Given he was the man who officially opened the extension of the M1 motorway to Leeds from London in 1972, I bowed to his greater knowledge.

“I just hope HS2 is built before I retire,” I said.

“I just hope that John Lewis will open in Leeds before I die,” said Lady Janice.

:::

AS I attempted to extend the post-Grand Depart feelgood factor, I visited the Great Yorkshire Show on Wednesday.

Judy Thompson, the PR manager for the Yorkshire Agricultural Society, hosts a media lunch at the show and as I enjoyed it so much last year, had no hesitation in returning.

As soon as I walked through the gates I heard virtually every accent other than Yorkshire.

Parking was organised slickly, the show was buzzing with atmosphere and it was good to catch up with contacts from the Yorkshire business community and old friends from the Yorkshire Post and the region’s PR community.

As I left, huge crowds thronged to the edge of the main ring, a hush descended. “Lorenzo is ready to do his show,” said one lady in tweed to her friend.

“Is that a male stripper,” I asked innocently, drawing withering looks from the gathered female throng.

Latin music boomed out and into the ring rode a team of eight black horses with a rider with a leg on the back of each of the last pair.

He wore shiny tight black jodphurs, a billowing white shirt and was tanned with flowing jet black hair.

“Oh Lorenzo!” sighed a matronly type in the crowd.

Sometimes you know when you just can’t compete.

I left to buy an ice cream.

Close