Bobby Cash was my English teacher. He taught me that literature could be rewarding and fascinating. I remember reading a lot of Shakespearean comedies and thinking: this is obviously very funny and I’m very stupid because I don’t find this remotely amusing. Bobby Cash got it all into perspective - he took things off the page and made it exciting. He encouraged me to read English at university.

Having said that, I didn’t enjoy my secondary education. I’m really sorry I can’t make the right noises for King’s School, but I wasn’t happy there. It was very much a boys-only minor public school and I didn’t like the way you were all expected to turn into little “hooray-Henrys”. I was constantly in trouble and always being caned. I particularly disliked being caned by prefects. I’m not anti-corporal punishment, but the idea of 15-year-old boys being punished by 17-year-olds is bloody ridiculous.

We were all young and rebellious. It was the Sixties and we were all trying to grow our hair long, listening to Stones records and things like that. The public school system was one of the first things that came under attack by adolescents of that generation.

I had no idea what I wanted to do. I was always good at sport, and until about 15 or 16 I wanted to be captain of the English football team. Academically, I just seemed to get by.

During university, I did absolutely nothing for three years and got a 2:1. I read a lot, but it wasn’t all on the curriculum. I certainly wouldn’t have been sitting down and reading Jane Austen until midnight, although I did get into Yeats.

I drifted into teaching. I started supply teaching in New Cross and stayed a year because it was a rough school that always had vacancies. Coming from a public school background, I found it a culture shock. I spent more time achieving discipline than teaching. That was frustrating. Being 6ft 2in certainly helped, but it was still tough. Most of the kids hadn’t had much of a life and school was just a nuisance to them.

But there were some amazing teachers there. Richard Cleall was the head and his relationship with the kids was fantastic. He would walk into a room of 15-year-old yobbos, hanging around looking menacing and tell them to stand up straight. They’d say: “Sorry, sir,” and do just as he said. It wasn’t just about frightening them - he commanded respect.

I’m not particularly proud of the way I drifted in and out of teaching. Some people see teaching as a soft option, but you shouldn’t, because it shapes young lives. Teachers have to care. Those who have a vocation and talent should be in the classroom - if you don’t you should go nowhere near it. It’s too much responsibility.

I was popular with students. I was just out of university and I think they saw me as a slightly older brother. I slept outside the school in a mini-van for six months; they thought that was great fun.

I doubt if I was an inspiration to any of them. They are probably amused about the way I’ve turned out. I mean, it must be weird for them to see me on television and say: “He used to teach us.”

Television and radio presenter Chris Tarrant was talking to Janet Murray

The story so far

1946 Born in Reading

1960-64 Attends The King’s school in Worcester

1964 Reads English at Birmingham University

1971 Becomes English teacher at Samuel Pepys school, New Cross, London

1972 Newsreader at ATV, Birmingham

1974 First appearance on Tiswas, children’s TV show

1982 Presents OTT, adult version of Tiswas

1984 Becomes award-winning presenter on Capital Radio

1987 Presents Tarrant on TV

1998 Hosts first TV series of Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?

2000 Special Recognition Award: National TV Awards

2001 Wins Sony radio award for his ‘unique relationship with his listeners’

and ‘Most Popular Quiz’ in the National TV Awards