I was a nervous wreck the afternoon I sat opposite Sir Garfield Sobers, he who had achieved perfection by becoming the first cricketer to launch six consecutive sixes in a first-class match.

The moment was on an overcast day in 1998, at Hibiscus, a short-lived restaurant on the grounds of the then Belmont Hotel and Golf Club. I was just a junior sports reporter who had been invited by the late health minister Nelson Bascome to have lunch and interview Sir Garry, who was in Bermuda on behalf of the Barbados Tourism Authority.

How do you interview arguably the world’s greatest ever all-rounder?

My notebook was still a blank slate when he strode in — tall, at ease, and radiating a not-so-quiet charisma that seemed to bend the air around him. Sobers exuded confidence, teetering on the edge of arrogance, and looked as if the weather had loaned him its gloom for the afternoon.

Already nervous and a bit overawed by this larger-than-life figure, I gulped a few times before Bascome introduced me to the legend, his smirk telling of his awareness of my temerity.

Lunch began as a comedy of errors and quickly devolved into tragedy: the waiter presented Sobers with a turkey, lettuce, and tomato sandwich; a burger for me; and, if memory serves, a tossed salad for Bascome, who insisted he was ‘cutting back’ even as his waistline suggested otherwise.

Sobers took a single bite, set the offending sandwich down and dispatched it back to the kitchen with a scowl — the bread, apparently, was beneath his legendary standards. The waiter returned, apologetically clutching a new version, but Sir Garry merely sighed in disappointment, resigning himself to mediocrity for the sake of lunch.

Ever the comedian, Bascome promised to make it up to him later, perhaps with an extravagant round of drinks, which dissolved the tension.

After the meal, it was my turn to lob a few softballs at the legend, a blend of sports queries and tourism pitches.

Sobers endured my questions with surprising patience. He spoke of his career with a mixture of bravado and clarity. How individual genius must bow to the team and how records look after themselves if you keep your eye on the ball.

He also talked about Bermuda and how we needed to forge creative tourism and sporting links with Barbados, saying, “You have the facilities. We have the history,” suggesting that if the two islands combined their strengths, people would come for more than just a suntan. That there could be cricket clinics, tournaments and conventions — “tourism with purpose”.

It was a fleeting encounter, much like Hibiscus itself, which vanished as quickly as my nerves did when I left. Nelson, ever the grinning instigator, is gone now, too.

Still, I walked out of Belmont that day with pride in having endured and the memory of a giant who, even as he recounted his own greatness, was plotting ways to grow the game and the region.

Sir Garfield Sobers has passed away in Barbados at 89. The world has lost a legend; I lost the man who, for one unforgettable hour, made a jittery young reporter believe he deserved a seat at the table.

Rest in peace, Sir Garry.