EVERYONE, it seems, has a story to tell about Craig Brown. They all speak of a man with a kind heart and a generous spirit. Mr Brown was one of Scotland’s most successful international football managers, but in these anecdotes his success at the highest level of the world’s most popular sport were always secondary to his qualities as a human being.

Amongst my close friends and immediate family there aren’t many who’ve met high-profile characters from sport and entertainment. That number seemed to increase whenever Craig Brown’s name was mentioned.

I’ve lost count of those I’ve known who chanced upon him on a professional or personal basis. Rather than attempt to limit contact with the public, as (understandably) many celebrated people do, Brown seemed to relish opportunities to meet new people. There was never more than a week or two between stories about “that time I bumped into Craig Brown”.

Nor were any of these encounters fleeting. He liked to linger with people, eschewing that urge to look over your right shoulder in search of someone starrier. At today’s funeral service for Brown – held at Ayr Racecourse – his children’s reminiscences of their dad were teeming with tales bearing this human imprint.

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It seemed appropriate too that ordinary football fans, unable to attend his funeral in person, could connect with it via a livestream link.

We didn’t hear very much about Craig Brown’s football achievements, or of the sporting and political royalty he worked alongside. Rather, we heard about his qualities as a dad, all of them related via stories that twinkled in their telling.

His daughter, Val Sutherland, told us that her dad was always modest about his personal achievements. He was the last manager to lead Scotland to the World Cup finals and his counsel was sought by footballing savants across the planet. Yet, as Ms Sutherland said, “for the humble Craig, his favourite way of referring to himself was always as ‘the ex-Clyde manager’.”

His son, Hugh recalled his dad’s core values. “Up until the age of 12, I was going to play for Man United. Or, at least Ayr or Killie.

“But having seen one game, my pragmatic dad confirmed at the breakfast table that that wasn’t going to happen. And that I should stick in at school … and badminton and golf.

“I was absolutely shattered, and I’m not sure if I’ve yet recovered from it. But of course, as usual, he was correct. It was tough love. He was a man without a large portfolio of interests, but compulsive in three areas: education, behaviours and sport. He was a wonderful man, who loved people.”

The Herald: Craig Brown at the World Cup in 1998Craig Brown at the World Cup in 1998 (Image: free)

Mr Brown’s other son, John said: “He was acutely aware of the time, commitment and money the fans had spent to follow Scotland and the other teams he was involved with. He was first and foremost a football fan.

“He firmly believed in the power of football and the wonderful, positive impact it can have in all of our lives.”

With the death of this man, we’ve lost another from that generation of football tribal elders who relied solely on their ability to lead and the collected wisdom of generations of their kin. Theirs were values beyond the reach of the super-rich global speculators currently stealing football from the people with whom Craig Brown liked to spend time.

Hugh Brown also gently dismantled the popular notion of his dad being some sort of cuddly, avuncular fellow with a heart of gold. “He was as tough as old boots and he hated signs of weakness,” said the son. “I’m sure former players and colleagues will confirm that minor injuries … well, they just weren’t acceptable.”

Some of the current generation of multi-millionaire impostors would probably have sought a restraining order on him. I can’t claim to have known Craig Brown, yet always felt that I did.

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This is rooted in my only encounter with him – in the mid-1990s – when he spoke at an initiative my then newspaper was promoting about protecting Scotland’s playing fields. Never having previously spoken in public, I was a tad nervous at the prospect and he sensed it. Just before the proceedings commenced, he took me aside and said: “You’ve earned the right to be here. Just speak from your heart.”

Later, I would discover that, prior to this event, he’d contacted one of our football writers to solicit some basic information about me. It wasn’t that he was being nosey or suspicious. He just wanted to have sufficient information that would allow him to discuss my job and interests beyond the usual “How you doing; lovely to meet you; see you later.”

It was his way of making me feel that this mattered to him. This was also an experience shared by others who’d ever met him.

This is the salute from his proud and loving daughter: “James Craig Brown: CBE, D.Arts, D.Uni, B.Ed (hons), BA. My dad. The best.”