MENTION the name of Alec Willoughby and the adjective that comes to mind above

all others is ''graceful''. This endorsement sometimes seems to carry a hint of censure, the notion that his presence was essentially decorative rather than utilitarian.

Few players have had a more unjust summation. Robert Burns once made the observation that ''facts are chiels that winna ding''. Those supporters who had reservations about his productivity should look at the stats table and note that Willoughby scored at a rate of one goal every two matches. This would have been regarded as a satisfactory scoring return by his cousin and Rangers colleague Jim Forrest, who was, of course, an out-and-out striker.

It is hard to resist the conclusion that there was not a death-wish at Ibrox in the mid-1960s. The fate of the two cousins was very different. Almost from the day of his arrival, Forrest was a first-team regular. Throughout his entire career, Willoughby was seldom sure of selection. Often he seemed to be the last to be picked and the first to be dropped. Among the Rangers managers of the time, there was no reluctance to apportion individual blame.

Willoughby had turned senior from Drumchapel Amateurs and he at once made his mark. In his second game, against Clyde, he scored twice and I can still see the ball rising as he hit the stanchion at the Rutherglen end of Shawfield.

For whatever reason, he seldom seemed to be promoted to first-team duty as often as the most discerning Rangers supporters would have wished. There were two schools of thought at Ibrox on inside-forward play. Historically, the club had preferred the big strong players such as Andy Cunningham, Bob McPhail, more recently Sammy Baird and more recently still, former manager Graeme Souness.

In the early and middle 1960s the Rangers management was unforgiving. When Willoughby scored for Rangers in their 5-0 League Cup win over Morton, all seemed set fair for rapid career advancement, but he played only a handful of league matches that season, and the following year, he was on the injured list when Kaj Johansson gave Rangers the Scottish Cup.

The infamous defeat at Berwick was a shattering blow to him, loyal Rangers player that he was, but it did seem to hold prospects of a restoration to the first team if the management panicked, and this they promptly proceeded to do. In a move which almost beggars belief, George McLean, who had scored two goals for every three matches over 85 games, was sent into Siberia and the other unfortunate exile would be Jim Forrest, who was managing a mere goal every two games.

At first, the move showed every prospect of success. Willoughby grabbed his chance eagerly and in a prolific period rattled in 17 goals in just 14 matches.

Outside in the big world it was May 1967. Celtic had just won the European Cup and Rangers would attempt the following week to take the Cup Winners' Cup. Surely his would be the first name that manager Scot Symon would write on the team sheet.

It was not, neither was it the last name. Astonishingly, the man given the task of prizing open the Bayern Munich defence would be the defender Roger Hynd. He had impressed in a reserve match and despite an unimpressive display in the Cup Winners' Cup semi-final against Slavia Sofia, he retained the confidence of the manager. Roger Hynd was an industrious player whose commitment can never be questioned, but the role of performing up front was clearly beyond him. That kind of conversion was beyond anyone, except John Charles.

Alec Willoughby took this great disappointment stoically, although he must have wondered what a man had to do to gain regular selection.

He had, by now, been seven years at Ibrox and the crowds seemed to like him much more than the managers did. Andy Penman had just arrived from Dundee and seemed in the greater favour. It was a relief to both parties when Eddie Turnbull at Aberdeen expressed himself willing to pay (pounds) 25,000 to shift Willoughby there. It is very possible that Willoughby would have made a really big impact on the game had he started with Aberdeen and then gone south as so many Scots players did.

Willoughby was not a fortunate player with regard to injuries. Having missed the 1966 Scottish Cup final, injury struck again before the 1971 final. Willoughby had to sit in the stand while his deputy Derek McKay scored two goals before retiring to the misty north eastern coast from which he had emerged.

Alec Willoughby was in an Aberdeen side twice when they finished second, but his only tangible reward was a Dryburgh Cup final medal against Celtic in 1971.

When he retired from first-class football, he played happily on three continents: Africa, Asia and Australia.

In recent years, he had been among those Rangers players engaged in hosting home matches at Ibrox stadium. This was a job for which he was eminently suited. He had often in conversation talked of how much better a social game rugby was, or for that matter, cricket.

His naturally sunny disposition was invaluable on such occasions and he had the great gift of giving the person with whom he was talking the impression that he was the one person that Alec Willoughby wished to see.

At a time when inside forwards were still the brains of a side, he was one of the best. Given better fortune he might well have challenged John White of Spurs or Motherwell's Billy Hunter. It is a matter of regret that the supporters who knew a good player when they saw one did not have the picking of the team.