The day I understood why Rangers legend Ally McCoist is always late 

Ally McCoist's tardiness is the stuff of Rangers legend. 

No matter what the occasion, he could be relied upon to arrive with an uncharacteristic lack of precision. This is especially remarkable given his entire career was built on an uncanny ability to bend time to his will when arriving onto a pass or into the box.

A story McCoist tells himself with his usual self-deprecating wit encapsulates this aspect of his character perfectly. 

The striker was to attend an important Rangers function with Sir David Murray in attendance. Everyone arrived, suited and booted for the occasion. There was one squad member whose chair was conspicuously empty. 

The then chairman was furious at his most famous striker's delinquency and planned on letting him know all about it in no uncertain terms when he arrived. 

McCoist eventuality bowled in and bounced over with a cheery disposition to the fuming owner. He quipped: "I'm sorry Mr Chairman... but this is the earliest I've been late in a long time!" Cue uproarious laughter, including from a defused Murray who could but shake his head and join the merriment. 

He told this tale in the VHS documentary about his career called Super Ally, commissioned by the club in the 1990s. It always stayed with me as a memorable and rare, so it seemed to me, glimpse of the man beyond the goals. All 355 of them.

It's only later, no longer a little kid with a McCoist poster on his bedroom wall and now a journalist, that I begin to understand why his time-keeping might be so off-kilter. And time, once again, is the important word because I saw with my own eyes how the man's time for everyone else, eats into his own.

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I was positioned in the Hampden press box for Rangers' 2-0 win over Hearts, directly behind the Premier Sports gantry where McCoist was on punditry duties with Darrell Currie and Michael Stewart. Once the cup was won, the broadcast finished and his colleagues had filtered away, I watched as McCoist stood and enthusiastically spoke to Rangers supporters as a long line formed to ask for selfies and signatures.

It was remarkable to see his patience and kindness close up, and how he made each person feel special. I've genuinely never seen anything like it during my time covering football.

It also made me wonder about his life, because while being Ally McCoist could be something of a dream, it must also be challenging to go about your business when your appearance in everyone else's brightens up their day. Most of us would struggle with that, but even in his sixties, McCoist wears it lightly and with such authentic warmth. 

At one point a man, clearly known to Ally, had a word and a lad was brought to the front. McCoist was aware he was going to meet the boy and showered him with attention, signing tops, and posing for photos. The only time when his smile dropped in at least half an hour of impromptu meet and greet was when a Hampden steward stormed over at this very moment to ask the former Scotland star to "finish up". 

Suddenly Ally's attention was switched. Very firmly, but calmly and politely he explained this was very important but that he wouldn't be long. The jobsworth slunk away, put in his place but also perhaps realising his poor timing.

Once all the fans were catered for, McCoist even had time for a quick interview with two awaiting colleagues from newspapers who were looking to get a word of reaction for the next day's paper. Again, where others would make excuses and move on, he found the time as he walked towards the exit. 

And suddenly, all was quiet. He was gone and the maelstrom with him. 

Leaving Hampden that day I was sure of the answer to the eternal Rangers question of why Ally McCoist is always late and positive in the knowledge it's not something he should ever look to change.