Ten years on the payroll but a lifetime a Ranger, he signed from Hamilton Accies in 1955 but the mere statistics don't even begin to tell the full Bobby Shearer story. Sure, he won five League Championships, three Scottish Cups and four League Cups, he also played for Scotland on four occasions, but his contribution to the game in general and Rangers in particular was more about the manner in which he went about his business than the comparatively mundane job of winning games and picking up trophies. He knew what it meant to be a Rangers player, he made sure those around him were aware of the responsibilities which went hand-in-hand with the honour and he had no hesitation in declaring: "Being made captain of the Rangers was the greatest thing ever to happen to me."
There are loads of wonderful Bobby Shearer stories out there, the most common being the amusing tale of the Spanish substitute warming up during the Gers' end-of-season tour in 1955, when the use of subs was confined to friendly matches. Apparently Bobby had tackled his winger and momentum carried both men over the touchline, causing them to clatter into the substitute. Legend has it that, with one Spaniard crumpled in a heap, a stretcher was required to ferry the other back to the dressing room, giving the poor sub the unwelcome distinction of being the only player to be carried off without ever getting on to the pitch in the first place!!!
Another memory, retold on the FF Messageboard this week, surrounds that night in Wolverhampton in 1961 when Rangers booked their place in the first ever European Cup-Winners Cup Final. Some pre-match high jinks had led to a Rangers banner being draped across one of the goals and, as the teams took the field, this was removed and contemptuously discarded by the side of the goal. Never happy to see our colours sullied, Bobby picked up the banner, folded it neatly and made sure it was returned to its rightful owners.
I first met Bobby in July 1962 at the Big Walk in Greenock. All the talk was of the triumphant Russian Tour of a few weeks previously but, as a starry-eyed 8-year-old, my contribution to the conversation was: "That was a great goal you scored at Cathkin." Shearer was not a name which appeared frequently on the scoresheet - the records show he scored just four goals in 407 appearances - but I saw him score against Third Lanark in a Glasgow Cup tie. Bobby laughed, ruffled my hair and said he was sure I would go on to have better memories. Third Lanark beat us 4-1 that night and I believe Bobby actually had the dubious honour of netting at both ends.
Always conscious of the traditions of our club and a fierce defender of them, Bobby was quick to speak out if he felt standards were not being maintained. During Davie White's troublesome time in charge, probably towards the end of his reign, Bobby pointed out that it was the little things which made Rangers so special and questioned the decision to drop the traditional red and black socks for a new red and white version. No one factor made Rangers a better or worse team but, combined with some other things like long hair and moustaches, he detected an erosion of standards which was having an adverse effect on the team's performances.
In one noteable television debate some years later with Brian Wilson, self-styled crusading journalist on his way to the Breezeblock Boulevard boardroom, and that drunken old hack Jack MacLean, Bobby was having some trouble stating the case for the Rangers traditions pre-Mo Johnston. In the twisted logic of Wilson and MacLean, Bobby's background somehow invalidated his viewpoint, to which he angrily responded: "Why shouldn't I be an Orangeman, why shouldn't I be a Freemason?"
Like all dyed-in-the-wool Rangers men, Bobby reluctantly accepted change and put his love of the club above any personal preferences. I'd got to know him over the years and he was never happier than when discussing 'the fitba'. Throughout all our chat, his love of Rangers shone through, disappointments were met with a shrug of the shoulders and a defiant 'we'll come again', while the good times put a broad smile on his face, restoring his faith in the natural order of things, the club was where it belonged, at the top of the tree.
Bobby Shearer would surely have cringed at the ham-fisted way Rangers reacted to his passing and the tacky debate which ensued around the respective merits of a minute's silence and a minute's applause. He was 'old school' and would have had no fears about fans failing to observe any tribute. Clearly out of touch with feeling within the Rangers support, the club announced plans for a minute's applause and were rightly inundated with calls for the traditional silence to be observed.
A minute's silence, impeccably observed as it undoubtedly would have been, followed by a sky-splitting roar and rapturous applause, is the right and proper way - the Rangers way! - of paying tribute to an Ibrox legend like Bobby Shearer. I can't help thinking our club's inept behind-the-scene operation denied the great man this well-earned courtesy and sadly, just like first impressions, you get just one chance to say a last goodbye.
Bobby Shearer knew what was right and proper. As the last manager of Third Lanark who went to the wall in 1967, he was angered to find the directors washing their hands of responsibility as the club tottered towards the brink. Aware that his players had not been paid for a while, Bobby took control one Saturday afternoon, delivered his team talk then sent his players out to do the business, and with all attention focussed on the game, he did the rounds of the turnstiles, commandeered the gate money and saw to it that the players finally had wages to take home to their families.
Mike Jackson and Benny Rooney, two very Celtic-minded individuals who would have been left in no doubt about what Bobby Shearer was all about, can't speak more highly of the man. For years they have retold the story of how, with three weeks wages paid in loose change, they walked down Victoria Road like gunfighters, their pockets bulging, each step being marked by the jingle-jingle of coins.
Bobby's principles ensured his men got what they were due. Despite Third Lanark's plight, the players were giving him 100% and he saw it as his duty to reciprocate. Always happier within the esprit-de-corps of the dressing-room than the rarefied atmosphere of management or the boardroom, he applied a great sense of values to the way he conducted himself and he was the perfect role-model for those around him. A young player, perhaps a wee bit on edge in the build-up to making his debut for Rangers, would be quietly pulled aside by Bobby and told to relax. "You're wearing that blue jersey, it's the guys in the other dressing-room who should be nervous."
LITTLE BOY BLUE