He sat high in the stand, protected against the wind by a sensible coat. Eddie Thompson, however, was no anonymous businessman attending the CIS Insurance Cup final at Hampden.

He sat high in the stand, protected against the wind by a sensible coat. He looked the acme of the prosperous grocer he is. Or rather was. Eddie Thompson, however, was no anonymous businessman attending the CIS Insurance Cup final at Hampden.

The former owner of a chain of stores is the chairman of Dundee United. He is also grievously ill with cancer. The backstory of a dramatic Hampden final was that United had to win this one for the chairman. They did not. Rangers won in a penalty shoot-out after a 2-2 draw after extra time.

But this was only part of the story, dealing with the routine bottom line of sport. Mr Thompson's very presence at Hampden was a triumph far above the puerile concerns of grown men chasing an inflated bladder.

The human condition is terminal for everyone, but Thompson is an accountant who may be on borrowed time. He would appreciate the ghoulish humour. His physical condition is a subject he addresses with the no-nonsense manner that helped him make £30m when selling out his chain of stores.

Thompson is not ashamed of his illness. He seems to have little fear about it, too. But it fascinates both the media and supporters. The small, bespectacled figure thus became the most unlikely of focal points for a cup final yesterday.

The advance party of United supporters chanted his name as they approached the home of Scottish football. It was like a scene from an MGM musical with a chorus bedecked in colourful costume, singing lustily. It differed in two respects. This was Hampden, not Hollywood, so the songs were not always in tune. And football only guarantees a happy ending for one side.

The script had its twists and turns. These must have seemed to Thompson like the violent movement of a knife in his gut.

Dundee United won this final three times. They were ahead 1-0, 2-1 and took a lead in the penalty shoot-out. They lost after two hours of dramatic, tension-filled football to the last kick of the ball.

As Kris Boyd sprinted away like a cat threatened with a hose after despatching the final penalty, the eyes flickered towards where Thompson was situated in the main stand. There was a fear that one would witness the collapse of a beaten man. It was dispelled by the sight of the chairman standing and applauding with a defiant ferocity.

This was not the gesture of a businessman who knows life is about bottom lines and defeat is defeat, however cruelly it has been sustained. This was not the posturing of a pompous chairman. It was the action of a dedicated, nay obsessed fan.

Thompson was clapping with the enthusiasm of a supporter who has paid £5.5m into Dundee United. He knows he will never see any of that wedge of cash again. He smiled gamely. The £5.5m was a bagatelle. It was the losing that hurt.

This image was beamed around the ground on giant screens. This was the last appearance of the day for Thompson on these gargantuan televisions.

In the most dramatic of Hampden finals, he had made several cameo appearances. Whenever his image appeared above the stands, there were roars from the tangerine hordes. "There is only one Eddie Thompson," they chanted as United took the ascendancy.

"We love you Eddie," they sang as victory, thrice, seemed only minutes away. He responded with a healthy grin and with a clenched fist.

But this most remarkable of fans was condemned to the most common of fates for the supporter.

Football is designed to depress the most hardy of souls. Every fan can handle the despair, it is the hope that proves draining. Thompson, indeed every United supporter, had the temerity to hope. They were rewarded with a sickening defeat.

At 2pm, an hour before kick-off, I called Thompson to see how he was bearing up under the strain of being a fan, that most common and debilitating of conditions. "Fine, fine," he answered briskly. I wished him the best. "I do not want the best," he retorted indignantly, "I want a result."

Almost four hours later, the United players slumped on to the Hampden turf in defeat. Their dignified manager, Craig Levein, then admitted, choking back the tears, that it was "very difficult to talk to the chairman" after being beaten in a cruel, almost absurd manner. Mr Thompson had gone into the dressing-room to give every one of his players a cuddle.

Minutes later, I called Thompson as he was leaving Hampden and offered my commiserations. "It is very noisy," he said, with United fans roaring supportively in the background. "But I thank everybody. I am proud of everybody."

Mr Thompson may be very ill. There is nothing wrong with his heart.