There's only one Jamie Carragher. Or is there?

When my Evertonian Dad named me Jamie* in 1992, my life was set on a track whereby it would always be compared to the great Liverpool servant. If only my Dad had done his research. At that point Liverpool’s future star was in the FA’s school of excellence at under 14 level, so really my Dad’s only got himself to blame.

Sharing his name wasn’t particularly great at primary school, despite being one of those in the family who supported LFC - not that I really had a choice mind you. I remember a particularly frosty reception in the schoolyard after he had scored two own goals against Man Utd in 1999. Kids can be cruel. To this day I am blighted by his prolific own goal record, despite having only scored one own goal myself (against Prenton Athletic in Birkenhead Park for those who are wondering. Personally, I still maintain it was going goalwards anyway.)

Still, the name had its perks. My Nan couldn’t work out why she got preferential treatment from some young nurses on mentioning she was grandmother to Jamie Carragher- or indeed why a 12 year old school boy was so popular with some 20 year old nurses... Sharing his name has also been a good ice breaker for any football fan I’ve met, for instance once I was dragged across a nightclub just to meet another guy called Darren Fletcher. We briefly exchanged I.D’s, laughed, and went our separate ways.

Though 2001 was a stellar year, Carragher obviously came into his own when Rafa put him alongside Hyypia, and the rest as they say is Istanbul. His constancy and consistency rightly became renowned and now I was no longer blamed for shoddy performances and own goals but held up against his excellence. On the very day I learned of my university offer, I passed a group of younger lads from school.... “Who’s that?” “Ah him,” said one little scamp in earshot “That’s the sh*t Jamie Carragher.”

Keeps you grounded I suppose. Being the ‘fake’ Jamie Carragher has also been another accusation that has followed me around, though perhaps this is my own fault as I have proudly emblazoned all my Sunday league shirts with ‘Carragher’ and ‘23’.

On the whole, it’s been fantastic to share the name of a Liverpool legend, though my one regret is that perhaps an association with him has led my attacking flair to be underrated. I still maintain my best position is in the hole, behind the striker as a maestro puppeteer, pushing the limits of footballing artistry. Such calls have fallen on deaf ears, despite my admirable record of scoring at least one goal a season.

On the other hand, I’ve learned to love the subtle art of deliberate fouls, and getting stuck in as Carragher always did. A highlight was scoring with an enthusiastic tackle from the half way line that I’m sure he would have appreciated. Of course, I can only dream of having his powers of anticipation and judgement, but then again is there a better idol out there for young footballers than Carragher? I don’t think so. Through his incredible sporting courage and intelligence, he pushed his considerable talents to the limit, and not many sportsmen can say they have done that.

Sure, you could argue that I’ve always been living in the shadow, but if and when the dream team made up entirely of Carraghers does assemble like a gritty super hero task force plotting revenge on Didier Drogba and Thierry Henry, I know I’ll be eligible.

Best of luck to my namesake in his new career, as the player who has played more premier league games than any other Liverpool player, his reputation as one of the best ever is assured. Somehow, I don’t think I’ve heard the last of the real Jamie Carragher, not that I mind: standing in the shade of a Liverpool giant has been a pleasure.

*Liverpool’s Jamie Carragher is actually called James, so arguably I am the real/only Jamie Carragher.

Jamie Carragher