“You’re a shoo-in,” Beckham’s friend assured him. A knighthood was a certainty in the 2013 New Year Honours List. Excited by the resonance of Sir David and Lady Victoria, Beckham knew that Sebastian Coe, who had headed London’s successful 2012 Olympics bid, had started the process. “You’ve done everything that’s been asked of you,” Coe told Beckham. A nomination had been submitted to the government’s honours’ committee to be endorsed by “the great and the good”. In Beckham’s view, a knighthood would automatically materialise.
Qualifying for a knighthood, Simon Oliveira and Dave Gardner knew, required evidence that Beckham had contributed to society in a broader way. Fortunately, he had already established markers. Visiting British troops in Afghanistan and his various charitable acts, including sending a signed football shirt to a young cancer sufferer, had won substantial credits. To seal the deal, the man-of-the-people needed to confirm his generosity to charities, minimise his wealth and crush any jealousy aroused by those Instagram images displaying his opulent lifestyle. All good ideas offered by his staff would be considered.
Some proposals were eccentric. One publicist, Tess O’Sullivan, suggested that sponsors for Beckham’s chosen charities should finance his flight into space. “He’d stay up in a space station for a few weeks,” she wrote. “He’d be in the public eye all the time.” In a memo headed “Planned revenue streams for DB’s space adventure,” O’Sullivan speculated that the highest sponsor should pledge $12 million to a charity and others between $3 million and $5 million. Among those to be approached were the dictators of Kazakhstan and Azerbaijan. The charitable angle, admitted Tess, was a fig leaf: “The approach is not to bring in revenue but to find a legitimate reason and purpose behind DB’s journey that attracts paying sponsors and supporters.” By this reasoning, Beckham would not be backing a great cause, but rather staging a stunt to promote himself. “You must be kidding!” Beckham exclaimed. “Up in space? Nah!”
The more important initiative to secure a knighthood was Beckham’s support of UNICEF. Building on the existing relationship with the charity that had been established during Beckham’s period at Manchester United, Oliveira suggested that he make some substantial donations. Beckham did not reply. Instead, to prove his commitment, in November 2013 he volunteered to head to the Philippines in the aftermath of Typhoon Haiyan. About 6,300 people had died across the devastated islands. “I want to make a difference,” Beckham said. His charitable image was blended by his publicists with snippets about the “normal bloke” who had played an important role in getting the Olympics and bidding for the World Cup.
Among his stream of posts, Beckham was shown to enjoy drinking in local pubs, eating jellied eels and a pie in his favourite East End café, building Lego, especially the 4,287-piece Tower Bridge, and expressing his devotion to the Queen. On some mornings the “normal bloke” walked down the hill from his newly rented home in London’s Holland Park to Paul, the local patisserie, for a croissant and coffee. Paul’s female employees had compiled a rota so that each served him in turn.
Encouraged by his publicists, the tabloids reported that the charitable efforts by the man-of-the-people were “certain” to secure his knighthood in the New Year’s list.
Simultaneously, Victoria attempted to dilute her image as a multi-millionaire dressed in diamonds and couture clothes who cavorted in private jets between countless houses and Ritz hotels. In an interview with Vogue, she described herself as an average mum shopping every week at the local Waitrose: “Harper balancing on one hip, Brooklyn hanging on the trolley” while she yelled at the other children, “No, you can’t have that.” To flatter herself, she continued: “People look at me in awe like I’m from the circus, but it doesn’t bother me.”
While the Waitrose scene might have occurred once, she was invariably accompanied by helpful bodyguards and a driver. Her description of watching her husband play football was similarly fanciful. “We stood cheering on the terraces,” she said. She always sat in the directors’ box. To prove her own commitment to charity she tweeted a photograph of her donation to raise cash for victims of Typhoon Haiyan. The photo was a shoe mountain with hundreds of pairs of her own shoes. It suggested that she still owned hundreds of other unused shoes.
Excerpted with permission from The House of Beckham: Money, Sex and Power, Tom Bower, HarperCollins.
