Ray Wilkins: A legend who will be missed far more than any of us can say right now

Through football, Ray Wilkins travelled far and wide. But wherever the game took him: he always came back to Chelsea.

Ray, who has died at the age of just 61, was Chelsea man and boy.

From being named the club's youngest captain; to a brief stint as caretaker boss; to FA Cup and Premier League double-winner as assistant manager; to Saturday afternoon fan, who would roar on the team from the East Lower.

Ray loved the club; and those who also loved it, loved Ray.

Raymond Colin Wilkins was a west London boy: born in Hillingdon, a year after Chelsea lifted their first League title.

He was one of four footballing brothers: but it was quickly clear that his talent outstripped not just that elsewhere in his family, but also that in the club for which he signed.

A combative attacking midfielder at the outset, his passion and energy earned him that Chelsea armband at the age of 18.

But he later settled into a more defensive style: which would gather him 84 England caps; as well as recognition in the stands from Manchester to Milan; Glasgow Rangers to Queens Park Rangers.

I never saw him play for Chelsea, but those who did talk of the player of a Blue generation: and, for that reason, one the then unfashionable west Londoners could never hope to retain.

But, in his second career and with the club's star in the ascendancy, he did return: as a coach of huge influence and importance during Chelsea's 21st Century glory years.

That began as assistant to Gianluca Vialli: days of Champagne (or perhaps that should be Prosecco) football, where Ray's Italian experience, and language skills, meant he managed to fit right in.

He forged a strong bond with Vialli and followed him to Watford; before a solo tour where he was assistant at Millwall, and then England U21s.

During that time he was seldom away from Stamford Bridge for long: and he kept a Chelsea season ticket in his own name for many years.

When long-time assistant boss Steve Clarke left the club in summer 2008, Chelsea needed someone who knew the place well, to assist a risky new managerial appointment.

Luiz Felipe Scolari turned out to be a disaster, and it was Ray who ended up in the well-worn Chelsea caretaker's coat: for a single FA Cup win at Watford – he remains one of only two Chelsea bosses in history with a 100% record (the other being Steve Holland's lone game in charge).

But, in showing the ropes to stand-in boss Guus Hiddink, and then permanent replacement Carlo Ancelotti, he cut himself a niche as the club's learned and wise tiller-man: at a time when one was much needed.

With Ancelotti, in particular, he established a close relationship: the two becoming almost like brothers.

On winning the double in 2010, the Italian would later say: “Without him, we wouldn't have won a thing.”

But chaos is a constant at Chelsea, and just six months after his greatest ever coaching success, he was fired: Ancelotti's sullen face telling the tale, as he stood alone at the training ground later that day.

The speculation, at reasons for that chop, persists until this day: most of the stories are pretty wide of the mark.

But certainly there were squabbles in the run-up to it, and there was also a fair bit of drink: later Ray's personal demons would become more widely known.

But if Chelsea thought they were only axing the guy who puts out the cones in training, then their team's performances proved that wrong: and Ancelotti, himself, would be gone at the end of the season.

Ray, meanwhile, turned largely to media work: interspersed with the odd short-term coaching stint.

His affable personality, matey version of Received Pronunciation, and quick-witted responses were no act: he was pretty much always like that.

He never found himself short of time to chat with fans at The Bridge: and would frequently trade good-mannered badinage with the press box, near where he sat.

Radio suited his style perfectly: a calming voice in the ear of the listener, sometimes sharing a bite of gossip.

Last year, at a charity collection outside Stamford Bridge, a friend received pocket shrapnel from all manner of fooballing figures, rock stars and TV personalities (this was Chelsea, after all).

Only one stopped, chatted, asked about the work of the charity (a homeless shelter), cracked jokes, and gave a proper fist full of cash for the cause.

That was Ray – a legend in far more ways than one. He will be missed far more than any of us can say right now.