Dubai: Growing up in Doncaster in the early 1980s as a football fanatic it was impossible to ignore the name of Kevin Keegan.

He was, after all, one of us: a working class lad who had grown up in the town and honed his skills on those same parks and commons where we played.

For my dad, Keegan represented everything that hard work could achieve. A limited player, who had thrown off early rejection — the story goes that Doncaster Rovers turned him down because he was too small — to become one of the game's biggest stars.

As I tried and failed to make my hometown team, my father would be quick to remind me of Keegan's tenacity. He even boasted that he had played against the great man once, although fathers are always quick to make the most of small boy's fertile imaginations. Still my dad's claims were understandable. We all wanted to share in Keegan's glow, and he gave us plenty of opportunities to bask in his success.

He was, after all, a bona fide superstar. Whether it was his appearances on BBC's Superstars or his adverts for aftershave Brut, Keegan blazed a trail through the modern media like no other player before him.

Unpredictability

The great thing about Keegan was his sheer unpredictably. A playing career defined by a serious of surprising moves, whether it be Liverpool to Hamburg or Hamburg to Southampton, the football world was never quite sure where this mercurial talent would end up.

His playing days, of course, ended at Newcastle where he helped the Geordies gain promotion from the old second division, and arguably began his metamorphosis into the Geordie Messiah.

It was, however, the roller coaster ride as Newcastle manager in the early 1990s that cemented his place in modern Geordie folklore.

True to his attacking instincts, he moulded a Newcastle side that was a joy to behold as the Magpies gave us some of the most defining moments of the 1990s.

There were those, of course, who always doubted his managerial credentials and were no doubt rubbing their hands together in glee when resigned from the England job, locked in a toilet in the depths of Wembley.

And while it's true he probably lacked the tactical nose of the very top coaches, there have been few better man managers and football is a poorer place since Donny's finest finally decided to depart.