Eloquent memoirs required reading for those in power

He was thinking about an autobiography and wondered if I might be interested in acting as his ghost. The invitation was flattering, but I said that as an Arts graduate of Edinburgh University he probably didn't need a ghost. Why didn't he sketch out a chapter and then we could talk about it? He sent a few pages, and it was clear that I was right. He had no need of a ghost. I would be happy, I said, to give him some editorial help, but he was quite capable of writing the book himself.

I mention this now for two reasons. First, he thanks me for help in his "acknowledgements", but that help was very limited, no more than suggesting "make this a bit clearer", "expand here", and "cut here" (if my part had been more than that, I wouldn't be reviewing the book). Second, to emphasise that this book is that rarity: a sporting autobiography which is the player's own work. It's an uncommonly interesting one. I thought that as each chapter came in. I'm more certain of it now that I have read the whole book with the chapters in sequence.

Gregor was the most naturally talented Scottish player of his generation. What was not always apparent to his critics - though it was to his team-mates - was that he also thought harder, and more intelligently, about the game than most. He played 82 times for Scotland - a record for a back, though one that his fellow Gala man, Chris Paterson, will soon take away from him. If he never played in a Grand Slam-winning side, the 1999 team that won the last Five Nations tournament was probably better, and certainly played more exciting rugby, than either the 1984 or 1990 slam-winners.

He himself scored a try in each international that season. He was a star member of the last successful Lions side, which won the series in South Africa in 1997 (and his omission from the 2001 Lions was ridiculous). He bridged the amateur and professional eras, and what he has to say about the difference between them is extremely interesting. Like Andy Irvine, probably his rival for the title of "most exciting Scottish player of the last 50 years", he had his great days and his bad days. Though fond of quotes, one he doesn't use is former Australia coach Alan Jones's "one day a rooster, the next a feather duster", which every sensitive soul who plays any game at international level should have by philosophic heart.

If he sometimes exasperated us, he entertained and thrilled us far more often; and in his book he is as honest about his failings and his bad days as he is modest about his successes.

He was driven throughout his career by the desire to improve and to widen his experience. This took him to play club rugby in Australia, England, France and finally South Africa as well as Scotland. His analysis of the different styles and attitudes he found in his travels is fascinating. If the SRU don't rather soon make use of the knowledge he has acquired, they will be failing, not for the first time, in their duty to the game here. He has a great affection for France and enthusiasm for French rugby; that said, his chapter "Vive la Difference" is not only acute, but very funny.

The diary he kept during the 2003 World Cup confirms what many suspected then: that the players had a clearer and better idea of what they should be doing than the management. He is more restrained about Steve Walsh's refereeing in the quarter-final which we lost 16-33 to Australia than I would have been if I had accepted the invitation to ghost the book. This is in keeping with its general tone; on the whole he is more generous in praise than sharp in criticism of others. A few barbs are stuck in, but the harshest criticism is reserved for himself.

That World Cup saw the end of his Test career, though this was not of his choosing. Scotland's new coach, Matt Williams, treated him shabbily, and the chapter in which he recounts this makes for painful reading. There's little satisfaction in the reflection that Williams would before long have lost the confidence of the media - not however before he had lost the trust of his players.

The last chapter, "State of the Union", is unusual. Though bitter about the closure of the Borders, he remains an optimist, with a vision for how Scottish rugby should, and can, develop. He calls for investment to improve the standard of training pitches, making use of the artificial 3G (or rubber crumb) pitches, fast becoming the norm elsewhere. He thinks amateur club rugby (at least) should be played in the summer; this "might be the perfect opportunity to breathe new life into a game that many believe is dying on its feet". He thinks we need a Director of Rugby - and so we do. (Gregor himself in a couple of years time?)

Most of all: "To have any hope of lasting change, there needs to be a fundamental shift in the culture of Scottish rugby. We have to become much more inclusive and positive, engender a spirit of consensus rather than fear. I am sick and tired of people pointing out what can't be done instead of what can be achieved..."

He is absolutely right. This is a very good book. It will be read and enjoyed by tens of thousands of fans. It should be required reading too for all those responsible, at Murrayfield and elsewhere, for the organisation of the game here in Scotland.