Fernando Ricksen came to embody two distinct traits in his time at Rangers: trouble and faint lunacy. The tabloid newspapers, especially, had a field day with this problematic Dutch full back while he was at Ibrox. If he was not letting off fireworks in his back garden after midnight, he would be pranging his car, or having public rows with his girlfriend. And amid that perfect marriage of two modern trends — the age of nightclubbing footballers and the voracious red-top press — Ricksen became manna from heaven for the Scottish media.

Yet he was always immensely likeable. Ricksen possessed that special quality whereby he simply wanted the best for everyone — in fact, the only person who he seemed to omit from that list was himself. People invariably took to the Dutchman, including many Celtic fans, when they met him on some of his riotous nights out in Glasgow.

One occasion, in particular, at Pittodrie in 2005-06 summed up Ricksen. One or two Aberdeen fans had taken to a daft routine of pelting the opposition — mainly Rangers players — and the vulnerable, wide-eyed Ricksen had been targeted once more.

After the match it would have been easy for him to scold and rage at the fans, but on the contrary, Ricksen adopted a conciliatory tone that spoke volumes for him. The Dutchman came forth without a trace of bitterness in his voice and pleaded for the nonsense to stop. “Please stop this, for the sake of football, because you are spoiling it for everyone,” he said.

Ricksen’s time at Rangers would come to an abrupt halt on an infamous and disastrous flight to South Africa on July 8, 2006 for a pre-season training camp under Paul Le Guen, the new manager. It was a moment that finally sealed his expulsion from the club.

Ricksen got stuck into the in-flight alcohol and was in something of a state by the time the plane set down in Johannesburg. There had been some alcohol-fuelled high jinks (in this case, literally) on the flight and Ricksen, according to a number of the reporters aboard, had upset at least one of the female flight attendants. Upon arriving in South Africa he was immediately sent back to Scotland by his manager.

“Fernando’s behaviour was wholly inappropriate and unacceptable in terms of the way I have asked my players to conduct themselves and Fernando will therefore not take part in pre-season training here with the squad,” Le Guen said. It was a harsh and unswerving response to Ricksen’s antics.

The Dutchman admitted himself to the Sporting Chance Clinic in London for alcohol abuse and anger-management therapy, and seemed genuinely contrite about what had happened.

“I have met people who I feel can support me and I think I can benefit from their help,” Ricksen said. “I’ve made mistakes and the recent travelling incident on the way to South Africa was one. I apologise to the club, the club’s officials and the fans, and I aim to get back playing as soon as possible.”

Ricksen, though, would be swiftly binned by Le Guen and Rangers, and soon found himself on his way to a country renowned for its responsible attitude to alcohol — Russia. He signed for Dick Advocaat’s Zenit St Petersburg.

At the time, Le Guen’s ruthless approach to Ricksen seemed surprising — this did not seem to be the way to treat a decent player with an alcohol problem.

Subsequently, when I was writing a book about Le Guen, I asked the Frenchman whether he felt he had been overly harsh on Ricksen. What kind of way was this, I thought, to treat someone with obvious personal and social problems?