Matt Adamson was just a big daft lad, really nice bloke to be in the company of but totally obsessed with RL to the extent that he could barely speak of anything else, I played a round of golf with him once and while he was a lovely bloke and the perfect athlete I did get bored with aussie/fake-american college-boy fooling around attitude, he's probably grown up a bit now.

And THAT is probably where some posters are coming from when they mention that they've been let down in later years by their heroes, sportsmen/women in particular tend to be very one dimensional as people, they have to be to succeed in their chosen sport because for all the talk of teamwork they are competing to the death for their jobs every time they step onto the field, it makes them focused to a depth that us mere mortals can't comprehend.

I didn't know much about Shakleton until I saw the Kenneth Branagh dramatisation a few years back, a truly astounding and inspirational story. I've just read the book "South" during my summer holiday how they all survived (from the Endurance crew) is amazing.

As a kid I was fascinated by Scott's Antarctic mission and I used read the Penguin book on a regular basis at school. I was always hoping it would end differently.

In most cases, we shouldn't meet our heroes, because then they revert to being mere mortals. Let them remain the immortal superhero of our imagination, when they are doing what they do at the peak of their powers. I know Neil Armstrong scratched his arrse, sat on the bog, queued for petrol, and went shopping for groceries in Walmart but it isn't how or why I want to remember him.

New one!

Just saw an exhibition of a particular period of the work of Cubist Léopold Survage yesterday. Fascinating stuff.

Actually, should also have mentioned LS Lowry. And probably Max Beckmann. And Fritz Lang and Werner Herzog. And I need a slap on the wrist for forgetting Édith Piaf earlier!

And I haven't even touched on the likes of Patrick Stewart and Judi Dench and Maggie Smith and the late, great Robert Stephens, and Lionel Bart ...

Alan Prescott

I used to eat at his restaurant when I live in Balmain, still the same!

I'm not a massive art fan but went to German art display through the war and was blown away by Otto Dix.

For me it's my Grandma, or Joanie as she chose to be called by her grandchildren.

Gave up a promising career as a baker to marry my grandad and work on his farm with him. Raised four kids while working the farm. All of her children have turned into someone she is proud of what they would do for their family, close and extended.

She then brought me and my brother into her house when my parents split up, and looked after us. To this day I still say I am coming home when I ring her to say I am popping round.

She worked until just before her 70th birthday until her and my grandad couldn't afford to go on. On retirement, something they should have both really enjoyed together, my grandad slipped further into the clutches of Alzeimhers. To this day, she cares for him, and loves him even though he shows no emotion back, and doesn't appreciate the effort she puts into him. I go round some days and she is physically exhausted with the effort. But she still carries on, because of her love for him.

She has advised me at some of the lowest points of my life, and she is the first person I celebrate the best points with.

Tony Blair, he led us to the greatest period of prosperity of my life time, and made Britain feel confident in itself again after 17 doom laden years of Tory rule.

He's fascinating, isn't he?

If you ever watch [iCabaret[/i, he and other artists of the period are referenced in the opening titles/sequences.

And if you're ever in Berlin with time on your hands, there's a load of art at the Beate Ehse Erotik Museum –including, if memory serves me correctly, at least one Dix. It's particularly fascinating because pornographic art was sometimes used as political satire in the early 19th century in Germany. Which was not new – it was partly what Sade did in his writings.

I don't think I've ever agreed with any post on RLFANS as much as I agree with this one.

My two journalism heroes are Francis Wheen and Louis Theroux for tackling subjects that need to be tackled even more. The second chapter of ‘How Mumbo-Jumbo Conquered The World’ is something that I read over and over again. It would be great if these two could get together as a super team to tackle snake oil sales people because them lot are having a field day during these dire financial times. I’m sure I’ll be back with some more heroes later on

My neighbour here in France, he has just brought round a fresh 1.5 litre bottle of Ricard as I am too hed to drive into town to buy one. My hero.

All the athletes at the paralympics