When a legend dies, people from all walks of life crawl out of the woodwork to say nice things – even if they’re not truly deserved, writes Carl Jones.

In Bobby Robson’s case, every last tribute and plaudit has been richly earned.

It was back in the late 1980s that I had the pleasure of sharing an executive box with Sir Bobby at Wolverhampton Wanderers’ Molineux stadium, where he was scouting on the club’s striker Steve Bull, and my late father was closely involved with the club.

Bobby was there on business, trying to piece together his squad in the build-up to the 1990 World Cup, intent on watching the fairly dull night match in the old English third division.

I don’t remember much about the game – other than Bully scoring the goal which probably earned him that England call-up – but I still vividly recall being in the presence of a football legend.

He didn’t know me from Larry, but went out of his way to be polite and friendly, and made me feel he was genuinely interested in what I had to say.

Robson had a quality so rare in modern-day football.

An honesty and enthusiasm for the game which was driven by love, not money.

He clearly cared passionately about living up to the nation’s almost impossible expectations during his tenure as England boss.

But more than that, he had a friendly aura which left you feeling like you’d known the man for years as he drunk in every word of our conversation.

He was as gentle as a gentleman could be.

Even before his illness – a time when he showed great courage and determination during hard times – he was admired as a man who embraced life and always had a smile on his face.

A man who took the positives out of life, rather than dwelling on the negatives.

A man from whom the youth of today could learn a great deal.

If only Stuart Pearce and Chris Waddle hadn’t missed those penalties in the 1990 World Cup semi-final, Bobby may have gone down as the greatest manager in the nation’s proud footballing history.

But then, as his illness highlighted, the good people in life don’t always get the breaks.