If you are up in court, never ask a reporter to keep your name out of the paper.
Reporters must pass these requests up the line and every request is turned down for fairness reasons.
In the main, though, the accused in court cases accept a write-up as an occupational hazard.
In the years I covered court I got to know many of the customers, whose humour in the face of trying times often impressed me.
You could not help getting to know the accused when you covered district court in Brechin.
There was no press bench and you had to squeeze on to the public benches, with the accused squinting to read your notes.
It was at Brechin that I met one fellow, who I will just call Eddie, who went on to become a great acquaintance and outstanding contact. Eddie Archibald talked me into giving him a lift back to Montrose after the case.
He knew everyone in the town and returned the favour with a stream of stories, while I provided him with court transport.
Sometimes unruly, Eddie was also a man of nature whose routines were influenced by the seasons. He would tip his hat to summer by drinking light lager and in winter switch to the earthy flavours of special.
Eddie had a brother, Bomo, who sold newspapers at the Braemar Gathering for decades. Another brother was Steak Eye and if you saw him you would understand the name.
Often, after court, a group of the accused would walk with me back to the office to ask if their names were going in the paper.
One of them was a young tradesman who was a fine lad but had his demons. I asked him to do some work in my house and he did not let me down the first day.
After that he made guest appearances but finished hanging both doors within a year.
However, my most unsettling experience was at court in Arbroath. A large tattooed girl accosted me and in her most seductive rasp coughed: “What will it take to keep me name out of the paper?”
“I’ll pass the request up the line,” I shouted as I fled to safety.