It was Alec Stock, Dodgin's colleague at QPR and team-mate of his father's at Charlton in the 1930s, that Trinder lined up as Fulham's next manager.
Stock was one of the best-known names in football, a 55-year-old west countryman who had made a career of working minor miracles at smaller clubs.
There was giant killing at Yeovil, the Third Division South title with the O's, a League Cup success at Wembley and promotion from the Third to the First Divisions with Rangers and a promotion to Division Two with Luton.
Not only that, but Stock had a shrewd eye for a bargain (he signed Rodney Marsh and Malcolm Macdonald from Fulham for next to nothing) and his financial juggling pleased chairmen as much as his teams pleased the supporters.
Stock did not disappoint at Craven Cottage. The League position was stabilised, with four seasons of remarkable mid-table consistency, youngsters were developed under the watchful eye of seasoned professionals like Alan Mullery and Bobby Moore (both Stock signings) and his usual profitable returns shown on transfer dealings.
Above all, however, he got Fulham to Wembley in 1975, an achievement that guarantees him legendary status at the Cottage. Stock, the ageing asthmatic, was more the man-manager than tactical supremo. He was a superb judge of character, a father figure who created the right atmosphere for the coaches and players, and reaching the FA Cup final crowning moment in a career that was built on cup successes.
It was Stock's misfortune that his time at Fulham coincided with the emergence of a man whose motives were as suspect, manner as unpleasant and methods as devious as Stock was open, decent and honest. The financial problems that had beset the club for years intensified with the building of the riverside stand. With the well-meaning but financially-naïve Tommy Trinder in the chair, the board was easy prey for the apparently sharp businessmen who could bring new money into the club.
First it was Eric Miller in the 1960s, a corrupt property man who committed suicide when under investigation by government authorities in the 1970s. Then it was Ernest Clay, a Yorkshireman introduced by Miller. In his autobiography (published before Clay had sold the club for an enormous personal profit), Stock said he realised from the start that Clay had a private agenda and the two could not work together. And so it proved. Clay was a clear winner and Trinder the obvious loser in the boardroom battles of the summer of 1976, and from then on, Stock's days were numbered.
He held on until December 1976, but left, mourned by the traditional Fulham supporters who realised that the character of their club was changing irrevocably.