‘JIM PUT GAZZA AT HIS EASE’

AS assignments for football writers go, I hit the jackpot the day my old mate Jimmy Greaves summoned me to Bournemouth for an audience with himself and Paul Gascoigne.

Two of the greatest ever to pull on England shirts (above) were performing a show at the Pavilion.

As the three of us sat down for an interview to promote their tour, Gazza was tense to begin with. But Jim was a master of putting people at ease and the piece we went on to produce remains a career highlight.

I’m grateful too that I had the privilege of working so closely with him during his days as a columnist for the Sunday People.

Grateful for the conversations we’d have each week, and the stories he shared – most we printed, some we couldn’t – about the footballing gods and wonderful personalities he’d played with.

I was thrilled to introduce him to my dad one night and humbled by the time Jim gave us, when others were seeking his attention too.

England’s greatest goalscorer, yes, but also one of the most genuine, down-to-earth people. Confident, but unlike some ex-pros there was never any hint of ego.

Jim spoke so openly about his battles with alcoholism and helped many others who struggled similarly. He was a man of great depth, someone who could wisecrack one minute and talk so empathetically the next.

I remember ringing Jim one morning feeling pretty disillusioned with work. Thirty minutes later, I hung up thinking I had the best job in the world – his wit and conversation could do that.

He was a regular at the office Christmas lunch and I still laugh recalling him ringing me up the day after one.

A colleague had been raving about the food, but Jim said: “Crikey, Tom, it was bloody awful, what sort of **** must he eat at home?”

Greavsie lived life to the full and in a way that few ever will.

Rest in peace, old friend. You’ll be missed by us all but never

forgotten.