When I was in primary school (maybe about 6 or 7), our teacher did a round of the class and told everyone whether they were named after a saint or religious figure or something like that.
That didn’t sit well with me. My parents had their beliefs but weren’t ones for naming their kids like that. So on way home after school in our old Ford Escort van (the back door of which was often held closed with string), I asked my father about it.
He told me that I wasn’t named after a saint. He said that I was named after The Saint. He told me that he and my mother were watching The Saint one evening and thought to themselves “that’s a nice name”. So that is where my name came from.
So RIP Sir. Roger and thank you for being the reason why I’m called Simon, rather than Huckleberry, Trampas or Dr. Richard Kimble.
And of course, thank you for keeping the British end up.