Mark Lawrenson’s first Republic of Ireland cap rests proudly in the playfully signposted ‘naughty corner’ of his Yorkshire home. “That’s where I sit,” says Lawrenson, never one to resist making a deadpan observation, even at his own expense.

His memorabilia room is a celebration of the exceptional career of half of one of the classiest ever centre-back pairings.

Where are the medals, Mark?

“A cupboard somewhere,” he says. “I never look or think about them. They’re not impressive, the size of a halfpenny. I prefer the glass trophy I got for winning the League Cup and the ceramic bowl for one of the league titles.”

He is not joking and the gallery of mementos from Preston, Brighton and Hove Albion and Liverpool is a homage to team-mates over personal glory. The prominent exhibit is a shot of the 1984 European Cup winners about to tame Rome’s Stadio Olimpico.

“The highlight. It has to be,” says Lawrenson.

“It was the biggest trophy. None of us ever stopped to think how bloody good we were. You couldn’t with the Boot Room boys about.

“There were eight of us living in Birkdale [near Southport] at the time. We’d see each other in the village, pushing prams or out having a bevvy. Whenever you meet Kenny [Dalglish], you’re back there straight away.

“We don’t meet too often – maybe around Christmas – but at every get-together we’re the lads again, taking the p---. Some of the boys have had their struggles recently.”

Good health is now the most cherished possession. Lawrenson recovered from a cancer scare in 2018, and had a lucky escape when struck by a car a few years later – he counts himself as incredibly fortunate after managing to “dive on to the pavement” after being hit by a Range Rover while crossing the road.

‘We knew Al was OK when we saw he was playing golf’

At 67, Lawrenson wistfully agrees that fuller appreciation of a stellar contribution tends to be reserved for those facing such moments of crisis or, most tragically, posthumously. The recent illness of revered defensive partner and fellow ex-BBC pundit, Alan Hansen, was a poignant reminder to cherish every reunion.

“That was a shock. The day we heard Al was unwell I was on the phone for five hours trying to get news,” says Lawrenson.

“But we knew he was OK when we saw he was playing golf again. And then we knew he was really OK when we saw he was even carrying his own bags.”

Lawrenson’s sharp wit was a blessing when he followed his pal into TV and arguably his undoing when a two-decade BBC career ended two years ago as every gag seemed to have the watchdogs barking, leaving him feeling he was in the corporation’s naughty corner.

A full-time media career began in 1997 while doing, in his words, “bugger all” as Newcastle’s defensive coordinator.

“I’d already done a bit of work for Sky and radio and I was the first footballer ever to do what became Soccer Saturday,” Lawrenson recalls.

“Vic Wakeling was in charge of Sky Sports and had the idea of me sitting with Jeff Stelling, watching a game and talking our way through. A week later I did it again with George Best and Rodney Marsh.

“Vic said it was a brilliant watch. I was like, ‘Nah, this will never take off!’

When the BBC reunited Lawrenson and Hansen alongside Gary Lineker, a new generation of ex-players turned pundits were becoming household names.

‘There were never any restraints on Match of the Day. That changed’

“I would always go in and tell a few jokes before going on air,” says Lawrenson.

“There were never restraints on Match of the Day. I can’t recall anyone ever saying anything which had a response of, ‘Oh my God’. Obviously that changed before the end.

“There was a clear moment when I was working on Saturday morning and you could tell people were thinking, ‘Hmm, we’re not sure if you can say that anymore’.”

Lineker’s departure from Match of the Day made headlines this week, and Lawrenson’s BBC exit felt clumsy – his one year rolling contract on Football Focus was not renewed when he was told they were “taking the show on the road for a year and you probably won’t want to do it”.

“I remember when Al [Hansen] left the BBC. I said, ‘Bloody ‘ell, Al, they’ll want me gone now!’ In hindsight, the timing would have been better for me to go with Al. They could have said to me then it was the right moment.

“But the BBC are funny. They are reluctant to say ‘thank you, but no thanks’. I knew I was going to be off. They just wanted new faces, which is fine. Just say that after 20 or so years.”

Does he still watch Football Focus? “No,” says Lawrenson.

“The honest answer is I do my 15,000 steps around York on a Saturday before the football starts. But I don’t particularly watch it. Football Focus was always a magazine-style programme and there are so many others out there now.”

‘Ally is a good lad, he can still be that cheeky chappie’

So who does he rate highest among the modern pundits?

“Ally McCoist. Ally is a good lad. He seems to have broken through that barrier of those who played at the high levels in our generation and they can still be that cheeky chappie. He is funny and there is a bit of old school in there.”

What does “old school” mean?

“You know what, I say that phrase and have no idea. I presume the perception of ‘old school’ is that you can say whatever you want to say. I can never get my head around why someone gets upset by a football opinion. It’s your view, someone might have a different view. So what?

“But you do look at everybody having a go at it now and think: ‘Yes, everyone has an opinion but when push comes to shove, what did they do in their career?’

“I will sit with people watching a show and they will ask me: ‘Who is that fella?’

“Everyone has opinions about football, wants to express them and should have the opportunity to express them, but the best description of what makes a great pundit is where does the authority behind that opinion come from? If you don’t have that experience or depth of knowledge from having been there and done it, you are just going to be challenged all the time aren’t you? But you know what, good luck to them all.”

‘Arsenal agreed a fee then offered me a pay cut!’

Lawrenson is still a pundit for Liverpool club’s media, his legend preserved with 10 major trophies over seven seasons. He explains that he was the third million-pound player behind Trevor Francis and Steve Daley – “if you include VAT on the £900,000 fee”. At his peak, every top club in the world coveted him.

“Arsenal manager Terry Neill agreed the fee with Brighton and offered me a pay cut. Then I spoke to Ron Atkinson who said whatever I was offered, Manchester United would pay more. When I told Ron I was speaking to Liverpool later that day, he just said: ‘Oh f---!’ Ron grew up a Liverpool fan anyway, didn’t he. We all knew that.

“When I met Bob Paisley they offered around £70,000 a year and I said: ‘Yeah’. Easy as that.

“In my first season we had a game early on at Arsenal. Jimmy Hill focused on how I was bringing the ball out from the back. The following Monday, Bob says: ‘Did you watch Match of the Day?’ When I said yes, he said: ‘So did everybody else.’

“It was his clever way of saying if that was one of my tricks, every manager in the country knew about it now.”

Juventus would have appealed

A more exotic move almost followed six years later.

“We were flying to Hong Kong one pre-season just after Ian Rush had signed for Juventus and our scout and director Tom Saunders said to me: ‘They wanted you as well you know, but we would only let Rushie go. Would you have gone?’

“I said I think I would have. There were no agents around to let me know any of that.”

It is a stark contrast with today’s top players, their entourages and £20 million-a-year wage demands. The one deal the most powerful agents can never negotiate on behalf of their clients is to play forever. Sporting immortality is achieved by the few.

But Liverpool are getting better at appreciating former heroes, says Lawrenson.

“It’s a fabulous experience when we do the hospitality at Anfield,” he adds. “You spend time with supporters in their 50s, 60s and 70s who have been watching Liverpool for years and they will tell you stories you have forgotten about yourself. People know what we achieved.

“We don’t seek attention. We’re not looking for it. But whenever people stop you in the street and want to speak about what that success meant to them… you never stop appreciating that.”