But Sugar is a private man who prefers spending time with his wife and three children at his homes in Chigwell, Spain and Florida Not for him the party scene. He has dined with the last three prime ministers, as well as with the Queen (he says a corgi tried to relieve itself on his leg – and, unsurprisingly, thought better of it). He recently described that period as a “waste of 10 years of my life”. Those involved in the club at the time are still vitriolic about him.

“He used to stand in the boardroom looking out of the window with his back to everyone, not saying a word,” says one. “The club went backwards during his reign because he knew nothing about football.” No wonder he now says he would have “done better going down to Hackney Community Centre talking to young kids every Saturday for 10 years”.Admirers point to his work speaking to budding entrepreneurs at universities, and his support for the Prince’s Trust He has long been courted by politicians. He prides himself on being in tune with what “the people” will want, although business analysts say it is ironic that more of his fortune is said to come from property speculation than from Amstrad and his computer firm, Viglen.The 1990s was the decade that Sugar ran Spurs, and although he made a profit when he sold the club (he retains a 13 per cent stake), he fell out both with the fans and the manager, Terry Venables. He regrets not keeping the early models, and is slightly touchy about suggestions that some of his products have been cheap and tacky. Sugar did have a soft spot for Paul, though; he said that he made him think of himself at the same age. It wasn’t an entirely flattering comparison, as Paul’s cockiness and unwillingness to admit mistakes had led to many complaints from his peers on the show.Sugar founded Amstrad in 1968, and is very proud of the countless products the company has come up with over the years. Sugar could not understand why a successful businessman who had been his own boss would want to go back to being an underling again.

“If you wanted pocket money you had to get it yourself,” he says. Leaving school at 16, he started selling car aerials out of a van in the East End, and by the time he was 21, when he married his wife, Ann, he had earned enough for a car and a house.He has worked for himself since the age of 17, an issue that came up last week when he fired Paul, a property developer, from The Apprentice. His father worked in a garment factory, and money was scarce. As a child, Sugar rose early to boil beetroots for the local greengrocer.

This is just as well, as during his tenure at Spurs he earned the enmity of the fans, who protested outside his house and even spat on him.His abrasive image turns many off, which is to his detriment as it hides his philanthropic side (he gave his fee for the TV series to the Great Ormond Street Hospital) and distracts attention from the fact that his life story is in many ways an admirable one.Born in 1947, Alan Michael Sugar grew up in a council flat in Hackney, the youngest of four children. “I don’t give a monkey’s what anyone else thinks,” is his mantra. “Money is not my god,” he says.Although his rough-diamond brand of instruction has gone down well with viewers of The Apprentice, and he does admit that satisfying “a minor bit of ego” led him to take part in the programme, neither is he bothered by the pursuit of popularity. “I don’t mind selling lots of boxes while no one else is,” he says. “But the minute everyone else is, I’m out.” He is adamant that wealth (his fortune stands at £700m) is not what drives him. That’s what the country needs”.What motivates him is designing new products – he always has his new phones, televisions and satellite dishes at his home in Chigwell – so long as they continue to be unique in their field. “In fact, it’s Fred who’s got seven employees in the car workshop.” Another time he praised “the young fella who stands behind the fish counter at Waitrose.