Ron Gordon, the Chairman and majority shareholder of Hibernian FC, was a highly successful entrepreneur. However, a brief look at his business history suggests that, ultimately, he was a communicator – someone who reached out to others, especially those most in need – through technology, media, or community finance. He possessed communication skills far beyond the mere transmission of a message.
The first time I met him was at the Hibernian Training Centre, shortly after he took over the club. He was preparing to go out and watch the players training and struggling to get into some appropriate gear. He may have been prepared for the exigencies of the Scottish climate, but possibly less so for the micro climate that whirls around East Mains.
He grinned across at me: “If I had known I was going out on grass, I would have brought my golf shoes!”
It was, I was to learn, a typically understated moment . No sign of “Do you know who I am?” “Who are you?” or formal introductions – just a self deprecating comment to a colleague. He was easy to like and easy to respect.
For a number of reasons, I find myself at Easter Rd on match day a good hour or so before kick off and I leave a couple of hours after the final whistle. The car park in front of the West Stand, especially over an extended period, provides a fascinating viewpoint on the matchday experience.
There is the colourful and diverse parade of supporters arriving from all quarters – young and old, families, friends and solos, the excited first timers and the long time fans. You realise that, for many, this is a weekly ritual stretching back decades, it is the time and place where they can summon up childhood memories, and recall those they have loved who used to walk beside them.
Into this celebration and anticipation would come Ron and his family, often unnoticed – just a family saloon, no security or special arrangements. Often, when they left the car, they would be recognised, and again it was noticeable that supporters felt able to approach them, to chat, or ask for selfies. There were no brief fixed smiles here but genuine interaction, an interest in who they were, where from, how long they had been supporting Hibs. Questions about the team would be answered, fans concerns understood and noted. Another example of that ability to reach out and communicate.
Back in July, Ron crossed paths with Martin Boyle in the car park, and they paused for a chat. At this stage there was no public suggestion that Martin might re-sign with Hibs, and this was not an attempt to hijack him, but rather a conversation built on genuine concern and a mutual respect; a “good to see you, how have you been?” moment. As a supporter, to see that level of affection between the Chairman and a former player, was very affirming.
After the match, the fans disperse pretty quickly, leaving only the Hospitality clients to exit at different stages, the club gear to be loaded into the van, and, eventually, the press to finish off their post match business.
At some point during this period, Ron and family would emerge into the small group of supporters who wait around Reception hoping to see a player or two. There would be that same warmth of reaction between fans and the family, perhaps Kit chatting to a player’s wife or a player’s child running up to Ron for attention. Children are often the best judges of character.
I could not claim to know Ron after a handful of brief encounters, but it was not difficult to detect his leadership and its style around the club in general.
The streaming of his funeral service from Arlington, Virginia, gave us an opportunity to discover something of his life away from Hibs.
On this side of the Atlantic, I guess most people would see Arlington as a part of Washington DC, in whose conurbation it sits. That’s a fair suggestion, but not entirely accurate. Washington is an impressive city, with its wide boulevards, French designed federal buildings, and the unmistakable whiff of political power. There are addresses in DC, from Georgetown to Observatory Circle which denote power, wealth, and a desire to impress. However, given the American political system, a major population change occurs in the “District” every four or eight years, as presidential appointments are made down to all levels of political employment. There is, therefore, a sense of impermanence, of jockeying for position and agenda.
Cross the Potomac River to Arlington, and wealth will still be a major factor, but choosing to live here speaks of a desire for community, homes before “addresses”, and access to a quieter life than the 24/7 brouhaha of the Capital. Not surprising then that Ron should choose to live here and communicate that understated style of quiet impact without major fuss.
This theme was echoed rather touchingly in his funeral service, where we were told that, though his golf had scarcely improved over twenty years of playing, he would finish each round saying: “I think I’m getting better!” Never boastful, always optimistic!
His sons presented a loving picture of their family life, and Colin remembered Ron urging him to run for his school’s student government body when only just into his teenage years. He was a little daunted, but with his dad running what Colin smilingly referred to as a “proxy campaign”, he managed to win.
Their winning campaign slogan reflects well Ron Gordon’s legacy at Hibernian FC, one which will endure for as long as his reputation as a communicator and a kindly and engaged owner:
“Little guy, big ideas.”!
Thank you, Ron, for the Sunshine you brought to Leith.
There's a light in the Sky 