So how did I end up charting the fall, rise and fall of Hancock? Well it involved 5th Avenue, a runaway taxi and me!
Picture this: you are crossing one of the busiest thoroughfares in New York when a cabbie has a heart attack. His vehicle then swerves out of control just as I am crossing the street...
Then out of nowhere this blur in a black leather suit pulls me out of harm's way just in time! I felt a bit like Lois Lane!
'Jesus you are Hancock' I say as he puts me down again.
'Man you are a bright spark! I take it you can read then?' Oh and there is no need for thanks, really...'
Despite his 'new' cleaned up image, he still reeks of liquor.
'Course I can read, I am a frigging journalist!'
'Oh shit' he says 'I hate journalists so see you around kid!'
With that he is gone, shooting upward like a black rocket. Where was his bird anyway, surely he hadn't left it behind somewhere in a drunken stupor?
'Man what a loser' comments a passerby 'you ok there buddy?'
'So that was Hancock?'
'Yeah and as far as I am concerned he can just fly back to L.A because we don't need heroes like him in the Big Apple!'
Of course we needed heroes.