I first came across William Gallas in the summer of 2001. He had just signed for Chelsea for a shade over £6m, and was in the group making his way across a training pitch in Udinese, where he and his new team-mates were fine-tuning for the campaign ahead at a pre-season friendly.

Catching some brief small talk the first impression of the man was that he was, if not exactly aloof, certainly cautious about how he interacted with others. What kind of a guy did he seem to be? It was really difficult to pin down. Throughout his career he was an awkward communicator, and it was a surprise some years later, in 2007, to hear that he had agreed to a rare interview. By then he had joined Arsenal after five years of understated excellence, and two Premier League title medals, in Chelsea’s defence.

A longer conversation left me little the wiser than that first impression. It seemed almost appropriate that he has this oddly gravelly tone to his voice which makes it hard to attune to exactly what he is saying anyway. This intense man seemed a little paradoxical – simultaneously introspective as a person yet not shy to give forthright views. He had a reputation in France for being close-to-the-bone truthful, a manner that was not to everyone’s tastes. The idea that he didn’t fit in with the stereotypical footballer’s dressing room came across as he admitted in that interview that the football life is not one conducive to having a lot of close companions. “I don’t really have friends,” he said.

Gallas retired last week. He called time on his career after a short and underwhelming spell at Perth Glory in the A-League. José Mourinho reflected kindly about him. “Fantastic player,” he said. “He’s the kind of player that when you have him in your squad, instead of having 22, you have 24 or 25. He plays right-back, left-back, central defender on the right and on the left. I don’t remember a William mistake, I just remember his untouchable performances.”

At his other clubs he is not remembered in quite such straightforward terms. And this gets to the crux of this man who was great at football but not so great at the stuff that goes with it. The key is to distinguish between Gallas the footballer and Gallas the leader. His legacy in that regard is completely split.

Ah, Gallas the leader. There’s a complicated subject. It was quite a shock when he was given the Arsenal captaincy ahead of Gilberto Silva, whose longevity, authority and popularity made him the obvious choice. The Brazilian only discovered the news when he saw it on the club’s website, and was understandably upset. The armband was Gallas’s, but not for long. The situation appeared to become untenable during a critical match at the sharp end. A young team were heading the table going into a game at Birmingham in 2008 when all of sudden everything was wrecked.

Arsenal’s striker, Eduardo, had his leg shattered in a terrible injury, and with the players in an emotional state about their team-mate and having dragged themselves from a goal down to lead, Birmingham were awarded a late penalty. Gallas, the captain, lost it. He stomped into the Birmingham half in protest. He abdicated his duties not only as a leader, but also just as a defender, with a chance of clearing the ball if the kick was missed. At the end of the match he had to be restrained. Arsenal never recovered from this turbulent game and slipped down the league.

Arsène Wenger, controversially, decided to keep Gallas as captain, but the issue bubbled up again the following November, when he spoke publicly about tensions in the squad. He muttered about “insults” and “problems”. While he was not well-loved by some of his team-mates, that betrayal of dressing room confidences prompted the removal of the captaincy. He played on for another season and a half before swapping London clubs once again to become the first person to play for Chelsea, Arsenal and Tottenham.

William Gallas played for the London trio of Chelsea, Arsenal and Tottenham Hotspur during his career. Photograph: Odd Andersen/AFP/Getty Images

On the subject of the captaincy, there is a wider question as to whether appointing someone as a leader who does not have the personality to lend itself to being a spokesperson, an example and a motivator can actually be detrimental to that player. Gallas was at his best at Chelsea, or playing for France (he won 84 caps), when his main responsibility was to get on with his own game quietly, which he did with excellent assurance.

Perhaps his playing prowess is not valued as much as it should be as it is so difficult to separate the technical side from the rest. There was that weird episode when Chelsea made an alarming attack on his integrity by suggesting he had threatened to score an own goal if he was not allowed to leave.

At the time Gallas said nothing. It was an obvious issue to broach at that 2007 interview. Was it not difficult to keep a dignified silence when it must have been tempting to lash back? “It was not difficult because they know the truth and I know the truth,” he said, with a calm, difficult-to-read, enigmatic smile. “Life is very strange, but there you go.”

Harry Redknapp called it a “no-brainer” when he signed Gallas on a free transfer in 2010 for one season. He actually captained Tottenham for the first time in a 3-2 win at the Emirates against his old club Arsenal, and played well enough to earn another couple of years at White Hart Lane.

Then came Australia. He was Perth Glory’s marquee player, but even that was a subject for debate as the club’s owner reckoned that although he was helpful in mentoring young players, he was less helpful as an attraction to put bums on seats. “You need a creative or attacking player for that marquee [contract],” noted owner Tony Sage.

Gallas said he wanted to play until he was 40. But he retired at 37 after one season, and 15 appearances, in Perth. A tragi-comic fresh air kick during a match against Western Sydney (who nipped in to score and seal a win) became his most famous contribution.

It is curious how the career of this largely consistent player is marked by eventful moments. It was Gallas who scored the goal against Ireland in the World Cup play-off which is remembered always for the Thierry Henry handball. These two team-mates, born on the same day in the Paris suburbs to Guadeloupe-born parents, both attended the Clairefontaine academy together. Their careers were intertwined, yet they were at opposite poles in terms of how they conducted themselves in the circus of football.

Henry was an easy talker, an excellent communicator, a showman on the pitch, had a huge media presence, forever talking about the team. Gallas kept a quiet distance, punctuated by sudden, unwieldy moments.

“We are not machines,” he once said. Perhaps he will be happier away from it all.