MOST of the time as reporters we describe and witness greatness, but just occasionally we might get closer than we expected. . . that’s how Hank Marvin became my backing band.

Yes, Hank Marvin, the same, from Cliff and The Shadows. The day began normally enough: my assignment was to go with cameraman Mike Hiscocks to interview the legendary guitarist at what was then the Apollo Theatre in Oxford, now the New Theatre. Hank was touring with his son Ben and he’d set aside an hour for us on that huge stage there.

This affable and helpful man came on with an acoustic guitar and he and Ben played through some complex material which we filmed. Then he obligingly played Apache, one of The Shadows’ era-defining tunes from the early 1960s.

Mike and I tried very hard to be matter-of-fact about it and put unimpressed looks on our faces in the manner of cynical hacks who’d seen it and done it all before. But that was never going to work.

This was Hank Marvin playing for us! The man who had been the inspiration behind so many of those to follow — Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck, The Stones, the Beatles. . . the list is almost infinite and every one owes a debt to Hank’s playing. . . so do I, but I have had, shall we say, more modest success in the field of popular music.

Anyway, back to Apache: Hank and Ben did a faultless acoustic version which I was later able to mix with film of The Shadows playing it at full electric volume. It was a piece of creative genius, take my word for it! When we broadcast the item that evening, the Apollo box office phones went into meltdown as fans clamoured for tickets.

Having recorded the music and a lovely interview, we were packing up. Usually when we get to that point, the artists will make an excuse to get away from us as quickly as possible, but not Hank, he carried on sitting there and talking, occasionally knocking out a riff or a chord on the acoustic guitar still balanced on his knee.

Then he played the opening bars to a Cliff hit, Travelling Light. Mike and I stopped winding cables and listened; Hank started singing the words — fans will know that although Cliff usually took the vocal honours, Hank was no bad singer either.

“Got no bags and baggage to call my own, . . .” he crooned rather well. We continued to listen until he got to the chorus, at which point I abandoned all pretence at being a cynical TV reporter and joined in with a harmony: yes, I sang: “Travelling light, travelling light” with an interval of a third above Hank — it’s a music thing, never mind! Then I continued to sing the final line: “And I just can’t wait to be with my baby tonight. . .”, but Hank didn’t join me, he just smiled and nodded at me while he carried on playing the chords.

Yes, for those few bars, Hank Marvin was my backing band. I bottled after that when I realised what I was doing, but what a generous man!

It’s the closest I’ll ever get to greatness, apart from the time Fairport Convention invited me on to the stage at Cropredy to play ukulele with them, but that was different.

So, thanks, Hank, for the memories and for the best morning at work I have ever had.