Hours with a hairdryer ... then you lost the lot!

Butch was a one-off. Show me a man who says he didn’t warm to Ray ‘Butch’ Wilkins and I’ll show you a liar. I met him when he was just 15. he already knew he had exceptional talent but combined confidence in his burgeoning ability with humility. It was hard not to take to him on a first handshake. his pleasant demeanour, his open smile were infectious. But his teenage innocence in the dressing room gave way to a maturity way beyond his years once he crossed that line on to a football pitch. there he felt most at home and at his most adult. Ray was not your modern mercenary. he played the game from his heart. he played because he loved it. the rewards and fame were incidentals. As captain of the England youth side in the early Seventies, he set a standard. Ferociously proud to captain his country, he was a dedicated trainer, an inspiration to team-mates and a leader. At chelsea, where his heart truly lay, he developed those qualities. he was made skipper in his teens and embraced the responsibility. these were the days when we critics were invited into the dressing room. Ray was always the last to leave, painstakingly using a hairdryer to shape his head of dark hair. I would joke with him about it, suggesting if he took as much care over those passes he used to thread through for the likes of Peter Osgood as he did over his grooming, chelsea’s results might improve. It is ironic that be went bald at a young age. I always ribbed him that it was down to over-concentration on that damned coiffuring! In reality there was nothing wrong with his vision on the pitch. he excelled at seeing the wider picture. I used to tease him, suggesting he was the poor man’s Johan cruyff. England could do with his control from midfield as they head for Russia this summer. It is no coincidence Don Revie, Ron Greenwood and Bobby Robson all appreciated his organisational skills as he compiled 84 England caps. he had his critics. Ron Atkinson, his manager at Manchester united, used to call him the crab because of his tendency to pass the ball sideways. that was part myth. his passing ability was up with the best and he and Bryan Robson were my best remembered midfield pairing in 40 years of covering England. Just a month ago he popped into my local in Weybridge, called the British Volunteer after Kitchener’s famous ‘Your country Needs You’ slogan. It fitted him perfectly. he was so proud to serve his country. he was his usual buoyant self despite his recent heart surgery and we reminisced. Little did I realise it would be the last time I’d see him. Like those other modest and likeable stars, Bobby Moore and Gary Speed, he left before his time and football and sport have lost another fine ambassador.