I can tell you with some certainty that Bill Shankly would have loved Jamie Carragher because he told me so.
Not via the gin-soaked throat of Madame Margie The Menopausal Medium in the back room of a London Road pub one wet Tuesday afternoon, but on a baking hot day in Melwood in June 1975, when I asked him to name the best Liverpool player he'd ever managed:
"I've had many skilful men," he rasped, "and the likes of Peter Thompson, Ian St John, Kevin Keegan and Steve Heighway were the ones who caught the eye. But the best professional of the lot was Gerry Byrne. He wasn't flashy and he wouldn't score you goals. But he was hard and skilful and gave you everything he had. More than that he was totally honest. Which is the greatest quality of all. He was a true Liverpudlian who couldn't look his fellow Scousers in the face after a game unless he'd given everything he had for 90 minutes."
Can you think of anyone who has worn the Liver Bird since Gerry Byrne more befitting of that description than Jamie Carragher? Can you think of another player ahead of Carra who you would count on to do what Byrne did in the 1965 FA Cup Final: Break his collar bone after three minutes, then, because substitutes weren't allowed, play another 117 minutes, delivering a cross that produced the opening goal? (Okay forget about the cross.)
For Byrne in '65, playing into extra time with two edges of jagged bone grinding together, read Carra in the dying stages in Istanbul in '05. Body wracked with excruciating pain, legs so cramped he could barely walk, pushing himself on, throwing himself in, carrying his team towards the finishing line.
I'm telling you, Shankly would have loved him. The great man's tongue would have lacerated clowns like Steve McClaren who were so blinded by the hype surrounding John Terry, Rio Ferdinand and Ledley King, they failed to give Jamie an England shirt with the correct number on the back.
But then, over the years, many people have got Carragher wrong. And I hope there's a few of you out there who are big enough to admit it. During all those dire games under Gerard Houllier when he was played out of position at full-back Jamie took some awful stick. Certain Anfield regulars and many armchair supporters, frustrated at the lack of style and subtlety on the pitch took their frustrations out on Jamie's limited attacking skills (without questioning why Igor Biscan was taking his place at centre-half).
When Liverpool failed to break down teams Jamie copped it for not doing enough in the opposition's half, the same way Ronnie Whelan and Sammy Lee used to cop it - two other players with wonderful intelligence and work ethic who were integral parts of the red machine.
Carra kept his head down and his mouth shut and gave his all, despite knowing he was being used out of position. It was the same when he played for England and pundits and phone-in critics took their turn to underestimate him.
I still laugh at The Times's "ratings assessment" of his performance against Juventus in Turin in 2005: "Jamie Carragher: 6/10. Made important interceptions and blocks, although he caused anxiety when giving the ball away on the edge of his own penalty area."
I wrote at the time that it was a bit like giving Geoff Hurst 6/10 after his World Cup-winning hat-trick in 1966 and writing: "Only had three decent shots, and caused quite a bit of anxiety when one hit the bar and bounced on to the line."
Carragher was a colossus against Juventus. Just as he was in every single game on the road to Istanbul. When Rafa Benitez liberated him from his full-back misery and stuck him in the position he was born to play he was a revelation. By the end of the 2004/5 season we were all dreaming of a team of Carraghers and laughing at his exclusion from the PFA's Footballer of the Year short-list.
Because in a season of heart-thumping highs and gut-wrenching lows he was the club's most consistent performer. The true driving force, composed, committed and focused in every game.
When Benitez lost Steven Gerrard for that game in Turin, he said: "big problems require big solutions". No they don't, they require big men. Heroes who fear no one, lead by example and are prepared to die for a club.
In an era when many players see themselves as precious brands and allow their disloyalty to be seized upon by sharp-suited shysters, Carragher strikes a blow for the heroes of yesteryear.
For honest men who think the way fans with a fraction of their talent think, who have only four words to say when offered a generous contract extension: "Give me the pen." Men who don't spout cliches about performances "not being acceptable for a club of this size" but attempt to do something about it.
Carra is one of that rare breed whose desire is not to pine for a bigger stage or wage slip but to pay back their fellow working-class men who have made them so fantastically rich. Oh and he's quite handy at squaring up to muppets in permed wigs too.
Whenever I look at him in the heat of battle I see Tommy Smith, Ian Callaghan, Sammy Lee, John Aldridge, Jimmy Case and Gerry Byrne. Players who were underrated to a criminal degree outside Anfield and who rarely make it into the starting line-ups of most fans' all-time Liverpool XIs. But men who were loved by the Kop because week-in, week-out, they sweated blood for their fellow Scousers. That's why Shankly would have loved him.
Well done Jamie, here's to your next 500 Liverpool games. If not playing in them all, what about managing in the last couple of hundred?
Well can you think of a better man to trust your life with?
boss lad as well, down to earth and well and truly feet on the ground.
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