GRAHAM TAYLOR was a genuinely nice fella and his tragic death this week was met by a palpable sense of grief from all who had met him.

In his role as an excellent radio pundit, Taylor was a familiar face in English media rooms. He was always good company, seemed actually interested in what even the lowliest scribbler had to say and for a man given such a hard time by the tabloids, never seemed to bear a grudge.

Well, almost.

His time as England manager was effectively over when The Sun put a turnip on his head – England had just lost to the Swedes, get it? – and while he was a forgive and forget kind of a guy, that humiliation stayed with him.

When the sub-editor who came up with this wheeze was due to retire, the paper asked Taylor to present his torturer with the infamous back page framed. He refused. Politely, of course.

Taylor never forgot his manners even when he knew his time as England manager was about to be ended courtesy of a defeat from Holland on a night  when even the most bitter Scot would have to concede that our old pals were robbed in terms of the decisions made.

“The referee has just got me the sack – thank him ever so much for that, won’t you,” said Taylor to the linesman. He was classy even when things were against him. He will be missed.

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Your diarist was dragged kicking and screaming to a public house in midweek. Or something.

The doyen of Scottish golf writers,  Jock McVicar, was to be found holding court, regaling the company with 19th hole tales from all over the world.

To suggest Jock is a legend of the golf writing game is the same as hinting that in his day Jack Nicklaus knew how to read a putt.

Jock’s standing among the very best was superb illustrated at the Open in 2005 at St Andrews when a group of us were to found hanging about, which is 80 per cent of a journalist’s job, waiting to speak to a Scottish player who was about to finish a half-decent round.

A barrier separated the players from the proles; however, one in the VIP area broke away from the pack, went up to Jock, and said; “I just wanted to come over and say hello...you’re looking well.”

And after some more pleasantries, Tom Watson turned and walked away.

As one hack said at the time: ”Jock is the real deal. The rest of us are playing at this game.” Quite.

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The Herald’s series “Scotland’s greatest sporting icons” has thrown up a few brilliant the occasional bizarre name.

Dee Hepburn from Gregory’s Girl was one which raised eyebrows. No wonder. Clare Grogan was the real star and one day I will marry her.

Football is a notoriously difficult sport to commit to celluloid. Escape to Victory is brilliantly rubbish but I do implore you to seek out a Shot at Glory starring Robert Duvall, Michael Keaton, Brian Cox, Ally McCoist, John McVeigh and, erm, Didier Agathe.

It’s a mini-classic. Honest.

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Speaking of Agathe, we were remind of  Celtic’s former speed merchant this week when Bayern Munich’s Thomas Muller pretended his passport was a phone as he walked through what is called the mixed zone so he didn’t have to talk to any journalist.

To be fair to Muller, it was a joke and was taken as such.

The bold Didier might not have always been able to find a man with a cross but he was lightning in the way he could get onto his mobile, which probably wasn’t even switched on, whenever there was a request to speak to him.

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Celtic Park is falling down.

Actually, it isn’t but a large pane on one of the stands was blown off at the start of this week.

This caused much hilarity among Rangers supporters, at least those who live on social media, who for weeks had to put up with downright lies that Ibrox was a death risk because it could do with a lick of paint.

This isn’t the first time this has happened in the east end of Glasgow’s dear, green place.

Back in 2000, high winds dislodged part of a roof and it meant a Scottish Cup match with Inverness Caledonian Thistle had to be called off. It took place four days later, the Highlanders won, John Barnes was sacked and Martin O’Neill would soon be on his way.

Had the weather not been quite as blustery, the game would have taken place as planned, Celtic may well have won which would have meant Barnes staying on. No O’Neill, Seville or a treble.

Celtic fans have for years said that God is a Tim. Surely this proves it beyond any reasonable doubt.

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Charlie Nicholas became the latest former Celtic player to speak of the desperate need of a strong Rangers.

When Celtic were in a mess, which was almost all of the 1990s, did any ex-Rangers player open up to the media about Scottish football’s need for a strong Celtic?