We were sitting in a meeting room near Edward Woodwards office at Old Trafford when his mobile phone rang. Im sorry, Ive really got to take this, he said, as his BlackBerry lit up - and promptly pressed speaker phone by mistake.
The callers voice could be heard, perhaps about to reveal some trade secrets. An expression of panic spread across Woodwards face. Hold on, hold on, dont speak, dont speak, he gabbled and ran from the room, desperately punching the keyboard to kill the noise. As an assurance of business as usual at Old Trafford, exiting in the manner of a man whose trousers were on fire was not the most auspicious start.
A reminder that it is not just the manager at Manchester United who is finding his way.