Tales from Suburban Bohemia: Jaromir Jagr
This post originally appeared on Stumpy Moose on 16 September 2002, and was migrated to PraguePig.com on 4 April 2021.
It’s Thursday night, around 11:30pm, and we’re drunk, which is why we’re in the McDonald’s across the road.
Two men walk in. One orders at the counter while his friend hangs back, out of sight of the staff, talking on his mobile phone.
The nervous one is wearing a grey Adidas polo shirt. I think it’s ice hockey superstar Jaromir Jagr, who was born close by, in Kladno.
Mike agrees, but Caroline isn’t convinced so when they sit down she pretends to go to the toilet and has a closer look. She’s still not sure.
Time to take decisive action, I think. I’ve interviewed Jagr once before, freelancing for an American newspaper, so I shouldn’t be intimidated.
Also, I rationalize, I’m drunk, so I’m allowed to make a fool of myself.
I walk over to the two men, who are both eating McChicken sandwiches.
“Excuse me,” I say. “Are you Jaromir Jagr?”
The man looks embarrassed. “Yes,” he says.
I can’t think of anything else to say. His friend laughs.
“Hello,” I reply, smile and walk away.
Somehow, meeting famous people in your local McDonald’s is much more exciting than meeting them at press conferences.
Friend to the Stars