Souness said my Ibrox time was up . . . I cried like a baby all the way home

He had been at Sampdoria and it would cost £300,000 to buy out his contract.

I had always admired Souness. Of all the players I'd come across, he was up there among the top five winners.

He hated losing at anything and he had that mean streak to go with it. I had known him since our Scotland days and he was a big Rangers fan.

He had built a world-class reputation with what he had achieved at Liverpool. And now he was the manager of Rangers? I couldn't get my head round it.

As the dressing room buzzed with what life would now be like, I knew many of the guys around me would not survive. This was the start of something huge and Souness would come in and take this bull by the horns; it was the only way he knew.

It was an exciting time to be at Rangers, but I was in my 30s and knew I was coming to the end of my own spell and would struggle to stay on in any capacity, even though a part of me hoped Graeme may well give an old Scotland team-mate a chance.

There were two matches left to play, Aberdeen away and Motherwell at home, and points had to be bagged to get us into the Uefa Cup. A 1-1 draw at Pittodrie was the penultimate result. And then the man arrived.

WHEN I went into Ibrox as normal for training, I sensed immediately that something had changed.

His first address to the squad was quite general. He was in charge, he was the boss, no grey areas on that. We had a big game against Motherwell and everyone had to focus on that, he said.

With Graeme in charge, it was no surprise we got a result. A 2-0 win brought down the curtain on our season and got us into the Uefa Cup.

Celtic had snatched the title from Hearts on a dramatic last day, winning on goal difference after thrashing St Mirren.

We still had to play them in the Glasgow Cup Final at Ibrox. It would be the perfect opportunity for the Parkhead faithful to rub our noses in it.

Graeme sent for me on the day of the game, May 9, 1985. He was in the ref's room, and had been calling the boys in one by one.

Dave McKinnon, Eric Ferguson and Billy Davies had all been freed and wee John MacDonald and Dougie Bell were up for sale.

"What do you think about the state of this club?" he asked. "You've been here, seen it, done it. Be honest with me."

"It's a sleeping giant, Graeme," I said. "For this club to be in this position is just not acceptable and I'm glad you have taken the job. It's a big task but Rangers are a huge club - the biggest in Scotland. Someone needs to shake them up."

"I agree," he answered, dipping his head slightly. "I'm here to make Rangers the best team in this country and I will. Nothing will stop me from doing it. I have the resources and I am going to bring this club off the floor."

And then he added: "But I'm sorry, Derek, I don't see any part for you any more."

I had known it was coming. I'd hoped he would be up front with me and he had been. I knew Rangers were about to awaken from their slumber.

Souness had that look, the one that said he wanted it big time. We chatted for a few more minutes and he got up and shook my hand. "I want you to come in tonight. Come and see the Celtic game," he said. I was pleased he asked me. I think he recognised what I had given to the club and he didn't want to throw me out like a pair of his old boots.

I wanted to see the Glasgow Cup Final, and so did more than 40,000 punters who'd shown up. Such a huge turnout was the first sign that the Souness bug was beginning to bite.

The Celtic fans partied in the Broomloan Stand, the champs milking the moment. The most reluctant boss in history of football KEN BATES phoned me in the summer of 1986. "How do you fancy joining Partick Thistle as a player-coach?" he asked.

I had reservations about both roles. Firstly, I had concerns about my fitness. My knees and ankles were shot. After 16 years of football, I did not think there was much left in the old tank.

Bates told me money wasn't a problem. I had been on decent wages under him at Chelsea and he put a cracking deal on the table and, to swing it, I was given the incentive of a company car.

Another problem was that the offer was coming from Bates and not the Thistle manager, the great Lisbon Lion, Bertie Auld.

I liked Bertie and we always got on well. But when he heard of my deal, especially the club car, he was raging. He was manager, but the guy who was to be his assistant was on a better deal.

Bertie was the board's man, but Bates had come in over them. I was a pawn in the end-game. Two days after I became player-coach, Bertie resigned. Bates said: "Derek, I want you to be the manager. It's a fantastic chance for you and I'll support you all the way."

To be honest, I didn't want the job. I was the most reluctant managerial appointment ever.

I had a great bunch of lads, but there was a dearth of talent. Despite suggestions Bates would put up a few quid for players, there was nothing to spend.

A transfer budget did not exist. I feared it could be a long season.

The start could not have been worse - seven games without a win and defeat in the Skol Cup at East Fife. I was feeling the heat.

I had only been fit to play in four games and by February I told Bates I wanted out.

The team were eighth and I could not take them any higher. As I've said many times, I think Thistle were ninth the season before so at least it was progress!

I have had a few wee tickles about management. But that one stint at Firhill was enough for me.

Meanwhile, deep inside Ibrox, a certain Ally McCoist was sailing close to the wind with his new boss.

Coisty's contract was up for renewal, but he was one of the players we all felt would be safe. Despite being in a poor side, he was banging in the goals and had the makings of a top striker. Graeme knew that, too, but he had pencilled in Coisty for his interview before the match.

As usual, Ally was running late. He burst through the front doors less than an hour before kick-off and Graeme was majorly pissed off. He told Ally he would speak to him later and to get himself stripped smartish.

After infuriating his new boss, the bold Coisty went out and blasted a hat-trick as we won the Glasgow Cup 3-2.

Graeme assembled everyone in the dressing room. The squad who had just beaten Celtic, the players who had been freed, those up for sale, the coaches, the whole shooting match.

"Tonight, you have given something back to your fans," he began. "But that's all. With all due respect, the Glasgow Cup means **** all.

"You heard the away stand tonight, well, take that away with you. Go away and come back ready and prepared.

"I will set standards you have never seen. There will be major players coming to the football club. Across the city, they can have their moment. From next season, we will be taking it back."

I said my farewells to some of the lads, to the doormen and the staff and, as I walked out of Ibrox for the last time as a Rangers player, there was one almighty lump in my throat.

I walked across the dual carriageway to the school where my car was parked and I resisted the temptation to turn for one last look at that famous old red brick facade.

Tears were already very close. At the age of 16, I had come to this place to chase my dreams and, except for the 18 months I'd spent at Chelsea, this was all I had ever known. I cried like a baby all the way home.

Graeme did what he had to do and did the right thing. My day had gone and it was about the future now. Rangers would never be the same again. Gutted to lose out to Mark as a Gers legend

I HAVE never revealed publicly how gutted I was when Mark Hateley was named ahead of me in the Greatest Ever Rangers Team.

In 1999, the supporters had been asked to vote, and a presentation dinner was held to mark the occasion.

Since that evening, people have asked me many times whether I knew the team beforehand. The truth is I had no idea. The results were kept from everyone.

There were some nailed-on certainties who were bound to be in the Greatest Ever Rangers Team, but some places were very much up for debate. I never counted myself as one of the certainties, but I prayed my name would be called.

From Andy Goram, through the defence and midfield they came. Then it was down to the two strikers; well, one striker, actually, as the other was always going to be Ally McCoist. No one could argue against Coisty!

I always felt my best chance of a place would be as his partner. But big Mark got the nod and my heart just sank.

The team read: Goram, Jardine, Butcher, Gough, Greig, Cooper, Gascoigne, Baxter, Laudrup, McCoist and Hateley.

I've nothing against big Mark, who I like a lot. We have worked together on Radio Clyde and get on well. But I can't lie and say that I wasn't hurt by my exclusion in his favour.

I played 546 games for Rangers, scoring 210 goals. I felt that would edge me ahead of Mark, who played 218 and scored half that number.

I take nothing away from big Mark. He was a wonderful striker for Rangers. But if you are talking length of service - and contribution - then I felt I had a good case.

I can't deny I was very upset. I tried to enjoy the night, but it took a while for it to sink in. There were several schools of thought about why I wasn't selected by the fans. For me, it was purely a generation thing.

Most of the voting was done on the internet and in the Rangers News. Look at the team that was picked. Only four - Jardine, Greig, Baxter and Cooper - played during the 70s or before.

The rest were all modern-day guys and I think the average age of those who voted must have counted heavily.

It's understandable that most of those who voted probably did so on the evidence of players they had actually seen.

Most of the voters were probably in short trousers when I was playing for Rangers!

I am well aware some Rangers fans don't like me, especially among the younger element. They hear me on Clyde criticising the team and feel that, as a former player, I shouldn't do it.

I get stick on fans' chatrooms and they refer to me as David Murray's mouthpiece. That is just nonsense but, on occasions, some people only listen to what they want to hear.

I give an honest opinion on Rangers. That's my job and I will always call it as I see it at the time.

To say I am disloyal to Rangers or that I have turned my back on the club that I was part of for 15 years is just not true and really quite hurtful.

The older generation maybe think more of me. Maybe they remember what I did on the pitch more than what I say on the radio or write in my Evening Times column.

Rangers was my life from not long after I was in short trousers. I am a fan. I always will be.