Paul Le Guen celebrated his appointment as manager of Rangers by running the sands of the Sahara in a gruelling marathon. Big mistake. He should have taken his players with him.
Jock Wallace, son of the parish of Wallyford, jungle fighter and of a generally different background from M. Le Guen used to fire up his players for the season ahead by forcing them up the aptly named Murder Hill on the sands, not of the deserts of Africa, but the beaches of Gullane.
Jock Wallace was a formidable leader of men
Much has happened to Rangers since big Jock applied his shovel sized hands to the job of managing the club. Some assuredly for the better, some perhaps not.
Wallace was the goalkeeper of Berwick Rangers when they caused THE sensation of Scottish Cup history by beating Scot Symon's Rangers at Shielfield Park forty years ago.
It cost Symon his job. It gave birth to the legend of Wallace.
Jock Wallace was steeped in the history of Glasgow Rangers.
Le Guen, growing to love the beautiful game as a schoolboy in the glorious scenery of Brittany, probably looked for other results and league tables when L'Equipe fell through the letterbox.
I have no time for the argument which says that you cannot be the successful coach of the club if you are not a Rangers/Celtic/Hearts/Albion Rovers man through and through.
Indeed I suspect that Le Guen's CV would have put big Jock's to shame.
But right now Paul Le Guen, I would politely suggest, would do well to swot up on the history of the team which has adopted him and analyse some of the reasons why they are seeped in failure where once they were awash with success.
Wallace's favourite word was "character" and he demanded it of his players in bucketfuls. Few of the current crop of Rangers players would have been allowed in his dressing room.
Of course football isn't just about fixed bayonets, although such a concept did feature prominently in the big man's team talks.
Constant references to "a Donnybrook" had certain Rangers players of the era convinced there was a stadium of that name in the Scottish League.
Le Guen has seen his side struggle in the SPL
It is all about players who can pass and touch and read the game, who can show flair and vision and, at the level of Rangers, who are a bit special.
At the moment none of Le Guen's acquisitions seem to fit that description.
And yet there must be something about the man. He was a wily fox with Rennes and Lyon and surely our game is not so foreign that he cannot apply his cerebral touch to a club that are so desperately in need of healing hands.
The progression of Rangers in the Uefa Cup is merely the application of an Elastoplast to a side which needs major surgery.
The team have the look about them of a group of players who are going nowhere fast and who desperately need the injection of fresh talent.
Scott Brown would be a fair start and those who hold up their hands in horror at Hibs' asking price of £3m should look at the price tag on the head of Filip Sebo.
Le Guen seems a lovely man. A gentleman, actually. Maybe that needs to change.
If he needs a route map to Gullane then there are still a few of Big Jock's men around to show him the way to Murder Hill.