THURSDAY, JULY 25
‘Without a good agent in this town you’ll be swimming uphill in a river full of piranhas,’ said my long-time, Hollywood-based manager John Ferriter when he first wooed me as a client.
Once I signed, he then outlined how our relationship would work: ‘Your job is to look pretty, smile a lot and do your work well. My job is to screw the b******* into the ground.’
Self-evidently, I struggled with looking pretty, but John did his part with tremendous enthusiasm, charm and ruthless brilliance, and in the process became one of my closest friends, whom I trusted with both my career and my life.
Piers Morgan with his late manager John Ferriter. ‘John was a ferocious “no is not an option” negotiator, but also a masterful persuader’
John died today, aged only 59, after complications from sudden pancreatitis that developed as I flew to Los Angeles, where, as usual, I’d have spent much of my time with him.
It wasn’t his first brush with death. Ten years ago, John’s heart stopped beating for three minutes after he flatlined from an MRSA infection. Miraculously, doctors brought him back to life. ‘I fought death, and I won!’ he’d later say, delightedly.
We bonded in the aftermath of that victory when he came out of a six-week coma, only to be fired instantly from the William Morris Agency (WMA) for voting against the company’s merger with another firm, Endeavor.
To my disgust, John’s entire roster of clients – including Ryan Seacrest, Chelsea Handler and Larry King – all ditched him.
I stayed, and ditched WMA instead, telling John: ‘If this is your Jerry Maguire moment, then I’ll be your Rod Tidwell.’
A year later, John and I sat in the CUT restaurant at the Beverly Wilshire hotel and celebrated him landing me a four-year contract to replace Larry King at CNN, hosting the world’s biggest TV interview show.
Karma tasted almost as sweet as the $10,000 bottle of 1961 Château Latour I gave him as a thank-you gift. (I’d promised John that if he pulled off the deal, we’d drink the greatest wine ever made.)
‘To loyalty and friendship!’ John declared. Then he toasted Dr David Ng, the pulmonologist at the Cedars-Sinai hospital who saved him. ‘None of this would have happened without him,’ he said.
John was a ferocious ‘no is not an option’ negotiator, but also a masterful persuader.
He urged me to do The Celebrity Apprentice USA when I was reluctant – a decision that led to me winning, and befriending the host, Donald Trump, which was later to pay huge dividends.
And it was John who convinced me to present Good Morning Britain when I told him I’d rather garrotte myself than do breakfast TV. ‘You’ll love it!’ he insisted, correctly.
His conviction for what I shouldn’t do was equally firm. Dancing With The Stars once invited me to strut my ungainly stuff, gushing: ‘This show will change his life. Piers will learn and grow more from being on DWTS than anywhere else.’
John, who shared my hatred of US gun culture, immediately turned it down, telling me: ‘If I ever recommend you do DWTS, please shoot me. America will forgive you.’
He himself forgave me anything but weakness. When I broke five ribs falling off a Segway on Santa Monica beach, I said I wouldn’t make the America’s Got Talent finale five days later.
‘The show goes on,’ John insisted. ‘If you’re alive, you’re doing the show.’ I arrived at the studio, in a wheelchair and dosed up on morphine, to find him waiting with a giant bag of spare ribs.
His advice for wannabe stars was this: ‘There are no shortcuts, so work hard. Trust your instincts. If something feels shady, it’s probably shady. If it feels like someone’s not telling you the truth, they’re probably not telling you the truth. Stay grounded and have friends who are not all in the business. Be patient – Leonard Nimoy struggled for 18 years before he became Spock. When you get your chance, seize it – the outcome of most auditions and meetings is determined in 90 seconds, so blow them away. Shy doesn’t play.’
We spoke every day but I last saw him in London in June when I interviewed President Trump.
‘John’s the guy who put me on Apprentice,’ I reminded Trump as I reintroduced them.
‘Then John’s a very smart guy!’ Trump chuckled.
Yes he was. But he was a very principled guy too. ‘It is far more important to DO right than to BE right,’ he’d say.
FRIDAY, JULY 26
Dinner in Beverly Hills with Gary Lineker and actor Ioan Gruffudd. John, whom they both knew well, was due to have joined us.
Gary’s had the same agent, Jon Holmes, for 40 years, so knew exactly what I was feeling. ‘It’s one of the closest relationships you ever have with anyone,’ he said.
It truly is. If you find a good one they become – outside of family – your greatest champions. I found a great one.
As Susanna Reid put it: ‘John was a total one-off, fierce but human. A fantastic powerhouse of a man.’
FRIDAY, AUGUST 2
I gave the eulogy at John’s funeral at a church in the Hollywood Hills today, a moving affair with lots of laughter amid the tears.
As the 500 attendees filtered away afterwards, I saw a man standing alone near John’s crypt, paying quiet respects. I guessed immediately who it was.
‘Dr Ng?’
‘Yes.’
‘Thank you for saving John’s life. You gave me ten more years with one of the best friends I’ll ever have.’
‘He was a good person,’ said Dr Ng.
John loved dogs, finding them more reliable than his two ex-wives, and less annoying than clients. ‘Dogs never whine unless they’re hungry,’ he explained. ‘Clients whine even after a 12-course, three-Michelin-star dinner.’
He recently told me: ‘My goal in life is to be the person my dog thinks I am.’ My goal in life is now to be the person HE thought I was.
RIP John. And thank you.