Sorry, but I'm not going to say thanks to Goonersworld for this image.
When I first saw him, I thought he was a lookalike. I assumed that someone who looked very much like Bacary Sagna was having a drink in my local. It was a few minutes later, when I overheard someone talking excitedly on the phone, that I realised it really was Sagna. What on earth he was doing drinking in a none too salubrious (I don't mean to be insulting - it's OK, just not China White, if you know what I mean) pub on the Cally?
Within a very short time, I began to realise what it must be like to be a celebrity. Monsieur Sagna had not a moment's peace to finish his bottle of Coke, to continue his conversation (in French) with his mate, to watch Chelsea bang yet another one in, or to ignore the woman who sat next to him. He was almost continuously plagued by people asking for autographs or pictures with the (terrified) kids in Emirates shirts, and took it all in a fairly good-natured - if occasionally surly - way. I could see that he was a little annoyed at being interrupted while watching the first Anelka goal, and offered a very cursory handshake while looking at the TV screen, but every other incursion into his privacy was dealt with politely and patiently. He was offered some words of advice on football tactics by an elderly man with no teeth, wearing a baseball cap, and only solemnly blinked his rather unusual eyes in response.
Sagna is - though this is Gooner heartland, so perhaps not wholly representative - a relatively minor superstar, and yet he was not able to enjoy more than a minute or two's peace.