A one Hoff encounter

It's Baywatch deja vu for David Hasselhoff as he arrives at Mt Maunganui to greet fans. Photo / Alan Gibson

Last Thursday night in Auckland, I watched a lanky, washed-up TV star serenade a blonde from Shortland Street with a Spanish love song before I thrust a 25-year-old pillowcase in his face to be autographed.

It was a dream come true. David Hasselhoff was in town for one night only, and there was no way I was missing out on some one-on-one time with the small screen icon, a man I've stuck with through thick and thin, through good times and bad.

Knight Rider was essential viewing throughout my childhood in the 80s, ditto Baywatch through my teens. I embraced the Hoff's comeback in the SpongeBob SquarePants Movie in 2004. I even suffered through his terrible autobiography, Making Waves (2006).

More recently I've cringed my way through Comedy Central's Roast of David Hasselhoff (why would any self-respecting human allow themselves to be humiliated on TV by second-rate comedians and "talent" like Jerry Springer and Hulk Hogan?), and then, of course, there was the infamous Drunken Cheeseburger Incident filmed by his daughter and released on YouTube.

He may cut something of a tragic figure these days but the Hoff is still big news. The actor was reportedly paid $250,000 plus expenses to take a break from his role as "Hoff the Hook", in an English pantomime version of Peter Pan, to visit Australia and New Zealand to launch an iceblock.

A couple of days before he'd landed at Sydney's Bondi Beach on a lifeboat, kitted out in his Mitch Buchanan clobber from Baywatch, surrounded by models dressed in red swimsuits. Sydney's Daily Telegraph reported around 200 people (including at least 30 media) came to see him hand out a few iceblocks.

The next day he went to the cricket with Warnie wearing a "Don't Hassel the Hoff" T-shirt. A few joke news stories were posted online claiming he was to be appointed the new Australian coach.

His one-day visit to New Zealand was divided between a visit to Mt Maunganui beach, where he was "mobbed" by 4000 people, and a VIP party at a venue in Mission Bay, which I managed to scam an invite to.

At least 100 of us stood around, drinking sweet cocktails made from the sponsor's product and scoffing canapes while we awaited his arrival.

He entered the room after a big introduction from the blonde from Shortland Street who was MCing the event, and answered a few of her questions before posing for photos.

So, what was he like? Well, his clothes were bad - a pin-striped suit with a red pocket kerchief and white shirt, and some shiny black and white patent leather shoes.

He was very tall and quite thin. Pictures from the Mount event revealed skinny legs poking out the bottom of those famous red shorts. His slightly curly locks were sprinkled with grey. His 58-year-old face looked a little gaunt and perhaps slightly tighter than nature intended.

I think he was drinking Coke. I can't confirm if there was any booze in it. He kept calling the iceblock a "popsicle". He was full of Hoff schtick but that's what the people had come to see and hear.

The Spanish love song he serenaded the blonde with was recorded during his last trip to Auckland in the 80s when he was here recording his second album on the cheap. She looked a little uncomfortable, especially when he grabbed her hand, but she threw back her head and laughed when he asked what she was doing later. I may have vomited a little in my mouth at that point.

He recounted the story of when he inadvertently hit on a transvestite during that same visit, but spoke fondly of Kiwi girls, saying we were much more "real" than Australians, or something to that effect.

He gestured at the blonde again at this point. Not sure I'd trust the Hoff when it comes to judging women though - the aforementioned autobiography covers his two failed marriages in great detail.

Finally, I had my chance. Photo time. Crowds of actors, magazine hacks, radio types and PR trouts jostled for prime position. "I'm from the Herald" I bellowed, securing my place in the queue.

I was clutching my piece de resistance - my mint condition Knight Rider pillowcase, straight out of the 80s. It is a magnificent piece of memorabilia. And the Hoff's eyes lit up when he caught sight of it.

"Have you got the matching sheets?" he asked. I threw back my head and laughed. The flashbulbs went wild. I was dazed and sublimely happy. I didn't ask for a kiss, but I should have. He whipped out a Sharpie and signed the pillowcase before I even had a chance to present the special fabric marker pen I had bought especially for this moment.

But it doesn't matter, it won't be going anywhere near a washing machine. It's going straight to the pool room.

-TimeOut