IN THE world of football, everything is overblown. Last-minute goals provoke "heartbreak" or "agony". Going out of a cup is a "tragedy".

Its personalities are feted like the figures of Greek myth. Good players are "heroes"; great ones are "legends".

It's all very amusing, but what happens when we really need those words to give our acclaim to someone. When a tricky winger is a genius or a workmanlike midfielder is a demigod, where do you go for the true greats?

Last weekend, football lost one of its greatest figures. Bill Nicholson wasn't as well-known outside the game as Bill Shankly or Brian Clough, but he could at the very least stand alongside them.

Spurs aren't a very fashionable club in media circles, so the opinions of the former Tottenham Hotspur boss weren't often sought out. And the quiet, self-effacing Yorkshireman wasn't likely to foist his views on others.

It would be wrong to describe his death as a tragedy; he was 85 and had achieved more in his life and career than many of us could dream of.

Yet his passing is a moment of great sadness, especially for us fans of the club he embodied.

When Nicholson took over as manager in 1958, Tottenham were fourth from bottom. His first game was a 10-4 win over Everton, after which reportedly his only comment was that "the defence needs looking at".

Three years later, Spurs not only sat at the top of the league, but also won the FA Cup, the first club since Aston Villa in 1897 to do the coveted Double.

A couple of seasons after that, his side became the first British club ever to win a European trophy, when they lifted the Cup Winners' Cup.

Yes, other teams have matched and even surpassed those triumphs, but Spurs - thanks to Bill Nicholson - did them first.

And those feats alone would cement his place in the hearts of Spurs fans everywhere. But Billy Nick, as he was often fondly referred to, was also one of the game's great characters.

Unlike so many great managers, he was a successful player, winning a league championship title - also with Spurs - and scoring against Portugal on his sole England appearance.

And unlike just about anybody in the modern game, he spent his entire career with the one club, joining the ranks of Tottenham as a 16-year-old and moving smoothly into the coaching set-up when his playing days ended.

His resignation as manager came in 1974, when the decent old-style gentleman came face to face with the uglier side of modern football.

Spurs "fans" ran amok in Rotterdam while playing Feyenoord in the UEFA Cup Final, and Nicholson, furious at seeing a few mindless thugs besmirch his club and country, cast off his usual low-profile to appeal for calm over the public address system, ending his appeal with the now-famous phrase: "You people make me ashamed to be an Englishman."

It's said he never had the same enthusiasm for the game afterwards, and quit his post the same year, but he was tempted back to act as the club's chief scout and, eventually in 1991, became club president.

And all the while this unassuming man lived in a rather ordinary house within walking distance of the club's ground, White Hart Lane, which has long been one of the less salubrious areas of the capital.

Not for him the modern trend of blaming referees for his tribulations; when a controversial decision cost Spurs a vital match and perhaps the league title in 1960, Nicholson shrugged it off and pointed out that the referee was in charge and his decision was final.

Bill Nicholson's legacy will live on as long as Tottenham Hotspur exists and as long as there are football record books.

He was the last great figure of a better, more decent age of football, and a man for whom the word "legend" was not too big at all.

Once, there were giants among us; since Saturday, they are no longer.

First published: October 29