A GENTLEMAN, A CLASS ACT, MY GREAT FRIEND

RAY WILKINS 1956-2018

F INALLy and tragically, Ray Wilkins found a battle he could not win. He faced many challenges in his life and handled them all with style and no little class.

But the memory of Wilkins should not be tarnished by his fight with alcoholism, however much it may have contributed to his long-term health issues and death yesterday aged 61. There were too many successes for that to be the case.

As a youngster, he was mature beyond his years. That is why, back in 1975, Chelsea manager Eddie McCreadie made an 18-year- old Wilkins his captain. Return to interviews he gave then and it is like listening to the Wilkins of recent times. Eloquent, well-spoken, sensible — and above all honest. A born leader. Nothing intimidated him.

For some reason, he was given the nickname ‘Butch’.

It was a curious moniker. Wilkins was all about culture. About accurate passing. About vision. About creativity.

He was the definitive old head on young shoulders. When it became obvious to everyone that Chelsea were in severe financial trouble in the mid-1970s, it was Wilkins who suggested to the squad they take a pay cut, won their approval and then went to chairman Brian Mears with the proposal. It was gratefully accepted. At 19, Wilkins was an England midfielder and it was the start of a 10year international career. In May 1976, in the Bicentennial Tournament in America, Wilkins was outstanding in a 3-2 win over Italy. He looked completely at ease and went on to win 84 caps — captaining the team 10 times.

In 1979, Wilkins moved to Manchester United. He handled the move as he handled all football matters in his life. With class.

It was the same when he moved to Serie A in a £1.5million move. Few British players have successfully adapted to life in Italy. At AC Milan, Wilkins was an exception. He loved the professionalism of the Milanello training centre. In months he had learned the language. His cerebral approach to football appealed to the demanding Milan public.

When Milan struggled, Wilkins moved on to Paris Saint-Germain, then to Glasgow, where he starred for Rangers. It is easy to become embroiled in the tribalism that goes with playing for one of the Old Firm clubs. Wilkins refused to do so.

Eventually he moved back to west London with QPR to be a player and then player-manager. Wilkins played his last game in 1997 for Leyton Orient.

He went on to become assistant manager and caretaker boss at various clubs — QPR, his beloved Chelsea, Millwall (who he helped take to the 2004 FA Cup final, where they lost to Manchester United). Most recently he was briefly on the coaching staff at Aston Villa under Tim Sherwood. And throughout an illustrious career, an admirable quality in Wilkins was that he never lost touch with the fans.

They all thought they knew him, especially at Stamford Bridge, where he had season tickets. He would shake hands as if he knew them, never acting in a prima donna fashion.

His football brain was one of the sharpest. He learned from the likes of Ron Greenwood, Dave Sexton and Gerry Francis. His analysis as a television pundit was always frank, but never disrespectful. He made his point without any verbal attack on an individual.

‘Everyone makes mistakes and it is not fair to highlight errors in a nasty way,’ he said.

Of course he made them himself and had the ignominy of receiving a red card while playing for England against Morocco at the 1986 World Cup. ‘My own fault, I should not have reacted in frustration at a decision,’ he said having picked up a second yellow card for throwing the ball away as an act of dissent.

HE ALWAyS faced the inquest — whether it was a setback for club or country. Never one to hide, Wilkins always fronted up, as they say.

In recent years his health deteriorated and four years ago he admitted he was suffering from ulcerative colitis. Last July he had a double bypass heart operation.

Having taken off his boots for the last time, Wilkins, who was awarded the MBE in 1993, found himself in a scenario for which he had not prepared. He failed to handle not playing, not being so actively involved.

Alcohol — the enemy for players of that era — became his friend.

Anyone who knew Wilkins would tell you he was a strong character, that he faced up to every problem. But he would drink to socialise and then it became a dependency. In 2016 he was given a four-year ban for drink driving.

But football has lost a warm man who knew and loved the game. It was in his private world that he met his match.

Wilkins leaves a wife Jackie, two children, Jade and Ross, and six grandchildren.