Sugar, but not much sympathy, from Sir Alan

I was making my Christmas chutney when the call came in.

"Sir Alan's in town, he can meet you at Ashton Gate at 12.30 tomorrow."

I felt like the poor saps in his show, The Apprentice. Tumble out of bed at 5 am, make a hash of some impossible money-spinning challenge, then meet S'rAlan in the boardroom for a dressing-down.

And if you think he's tough on his TV wannabes, you should see him with reporters. When my colleague in Newcastle asked him about his new role as an "Enterprise Czar", Sir Alan barked: "That's a pretty nasty question...."

So, I left the cranberries to simmer quietly, and grabbed my notebook.

I arrived early at Bristol City's stadium / conference centre, and popped into Al's Tikka Grill up the road for a fortifying cuppa. Inside, everyone had a question for Sir Alan.

"Can he lend us a few bob?" laughed Bob Petrie. Bob's a glazier, been in business 42 years. "Never known it as tough as this," he told me, ruefully. And you know the villain, don't you?

"The banks just aren't playing, still," he tells me. His mate Phil tells the story best. "When a guy who's been in business 42 years goes to his bank for an overdraft, and they say no - after taking his money every week: what's it coming to?"

The trouble is, Sir Alan has form on this. He loves small businesses, yes, but in the Lords last week he used his maiden speech to hit out at 'moaning firms'.

"Government and banks can't just write out blank cheques to anyone who thinks they've got a good idea," he told their Lordships.

Hmmm. Right oh, Bob, I'll try and ask him for you....

Ashton Gate had become a fortress. Years ago, I worked in Manchester and got used to the extreme security at Old Trafford. Bristol City is much more relaxed, on match days. But today, ranks of PR people checked our IDs. A security man escorted me and Andy the cameraman to the Director's Lounge. We both know the way, but we followed politely. Everyone's on edge.

In we go then. The man from the Western Daily goes first, and asks him harmlessly enough about the small firms he's been meeting. What are they asking? What is he saying? Eventually, Sir Alan has had enough.

"Look, the best way for you to find out is to come and listen in this afternoon," he splutters. "Why don't you do that?"

Because your PR people have banned us, Sir Alan, we politely explain. There's a small scene. Sir Alan looks to the PR minder. "Can they come and sit in?"

"Well the problem with press attending the sessions in the past has been..." she starts explaining.

"Right, there's a problem - just say no then," barks Sir Alan.

The well-groomed PR woman continues with polite explanation, but is interrupted.
"No, no, I've overstepped the mark, you can't come in, just tell him no."

It's almost a scene from the show. The interviews, curiously, are much less box-office.

On the recession: "We won't know we've come out until afterwards, it's not that easy to tell."

On making it in business: "Focus on what you're doing. Work out what's going well, and what's not, and do more of what's going well."

It's all a bit, well, ho hum.

Until I ask about those pesky banks.

"It's no good people just relying on anecdotes", he tells me, and I sense this might be a bit more interesting.

"The Federation of Small Businesses tell me the banks aren't lending, and said to them, I deal in facts, not anecdotes. Give me some examples. I met with them in July, and since then they've sent me four. Banks like lending to small businesses, they're full of cash. I just don't believe it."

There's more. Watch for yourself.

For a man who says he's the champion of small business, he's surprisingly defensive of the big banks.

But otherwise, the man who gets TV bosses fired up was, well, about as controversial as a Bristol bank manager.