Walter was just immaculate. Not only in how he looked but his words... he made it look easy

WHENEVER I had a big career decision to make, Walter Smith was my first phone call. Sometimes my only phone call. His words carried more weight than anybody else’s and he was a brilliant listener, too.

While I was managing Aberdeen, opportunities arose at Sunderland and Rangers and I discussed it all at length with the gaffer.

He was always there in my corner and had my back every step of the way. He was a great confidante.

We last spoke when he called me ten days ago for a chat. He was more interested in talking about me than his own health.

I told him I was enjoying my life, getting to spend more time at home with Nicola and the boys, and doing my media work. And yet I also admitted to wondering about when and where the next managerial opportunity might arise.

He told me I had earned the right to enjoy myself after so many years with barely a break. He told me not to feel guilty about not working.

He asked if I wanted to come over to the house for a coffee the following week and joked that we might even be able to get a beer if he was allowed.

I was delighted to accept. There was no inkling that we were speaking for the final time.

Instead, I’ve been left to ponder and enjoy my own memories of the man who did so much to shape my career.

WALTER signed me for Rangers from Morton back in 1995 and he recognised that day was as big a day for my dad as it was for me.

My dad was a big Rangers supporter — man and boy he had been to Ibrox hundreds if not thousands of times. But he had never been through the front door or climbed the marble staircase.

I underwent a pretty stringent medical and when I eventually emerged I found my dad sitting having a beer with the gaffer in his office.

Managers are busy and he could easily have fobbed him off but he sat with him the whole time I was having my medical. Walter made it special and that was something we both appreciated.

I knew my place at Rangers. I knew I had to work ten times harder than anybody else just to make a go of it.

The gaffer and his assistant Archie Knox used to say to me, ‘Del, win it, get on the ball and give it to Gascoigne or Laudrup’.

I think he liked me and had he not left, I would probably have stayed at Rangers longer.

Whether that would have been good for my career, I don’t know. I had 18 months under Dick Advocaat and it was good for me to then get on with my career and play more regularly elsewhere.

But I really enjoyed playing under Walter. I had a tough time with injuries but he never showed any frustration with me.

I’d been out for nearly three months and he brought me in from nowhere to be on the bench the night we clinched nine in a row at Tannadice.

I think he liked my work ethic and I always felt I needed to show him how appreciative I was of being given my chance. I never wanted to let him down.

Injured or fit, I was absolutely dedicated to being the best professional I could.

I was never out of the gym and there were times deep in the day, maybe around 3pm when the gaffer and Archie would come in and commandeer the music system. I can hear him now: ‘Real music, McInnes, get that s **** off’. So we’d go from my Oasis tunes to The Eagles.

He’d be belting the words out as he worked on the cross trainer or running machine. He didn’t sing particularly well but that never stopped him.

He and Archie were also a double act at the head tennis. That was often the most competitive part of the week, those two ganging up in the afternoon to take on all comers.

They didn’t lose many. And if they did, they were bad losers. You’d get it for the rest of the week.

And worst of all was when they made you the referee. I have seen big international players succumb to the abuse he would dish out for a decision at the head tennis.

Those were magical days. I loved being at Rangers and often I didn’t want to go home because it was just a great environment.

That comes from winning and it being a special club but he and Archie created that mood.

It’s hard for me to think back to those days without seeing Archie by his side. Having spoken to him, I know how badly he has taken Walter’s passing.

I feel for him because the two of them were a brilliant team. Archie

was always the barking, growling voice that demanded so much of the players. The gaffer would be quietly watching, assessing. He never missed a trick.

On match day, he was always immaculate. Not only in how he looked but with his words.

The preparation was always spot on — he said the right things, would tweak the team in the right way.

It must have been challenging to manage the type of squad we had, full of seasoned internationalists and big personalities. But he made it look easy.

Very occasionally he would let rip and we’d see that other side of him.

I was pretty much squeaky clean. I never felt his wrath ever and feel relieved not to have had the type of tongue-lashing he reserved for a few others. He picked and chose his moments but when he went off everyone knew about it. No one ever took him on.

Like so many managers of that era there was a thin line between respect and fear. He was tough but first and foremost he was a class act.

I thought he was brilliant in how he handled that nine-in-a-row season. It was hard to escape the significance of what we were trying to achieve but he handled that and knew the right time to put the pressure on or take it off.

But when it was over, I did think you could see a sense of relief alongside the achievement.

Everybody is obsessed with how people lead others to perform. As managers, we are judged on the performances of others and he was class in how he brought the best out in people.

I feel for Archie because the two of them were a brilliant team

I WAS relatively young when I played under him and our relationship only really changed and developed when I became a manager at St Johnstone.

He always said I could give him a phone if I needed anything. And so when I was getting my team ready for the first game of that season he gave me loads of nuggets of advice.

If I was on a poor run, he would maybe pick the phone up.

In my first season, we actually played his Rangers team in the Scottish Cup semi-final. We took the lead in extra-time but they beat us on penalty kicks.

Even after promotion to the top flight, he kept advising me. We got a draw that first season at Ibrox and we also beat them 4-1 at McDiarmid Park.

Some managers go missing when