If people ask me who my favourite Liverpool player is, I always tell them the same thing – Jamie Carragher. A lot of the time, they respond with a raised eyebrow and say, ‘not Steven Gerrard then?’

For a while, I screwed my face up at their surprise and insisted that Gerrard, whilst being a fantastic player and contributing a lot to our club, had come too close to betraying us to ever be a personal hero. One time was forgivable – Chelsea came knocking with cash and potential aplenty at around the time that Houllier’s once-promising reign had finally gone stagnant; Gerrard had a good think about it, but finally decided to give new man Benitez a chance. The very next season, after struggling with the Spaniard’s cold managerial style and constant insistence that Gerrard had a lot of improving to do, the skipper accepted a deal from Chelsea in principle and prepared again to leave the club which gave him his chance.

Considering progress in the league alone, I could maybe understand this; we’d humiliatingly finished fifth, below Everton, and endured a long, hard campaign in which the tactics were consistently baffling and/or completely inappropriate. But we’d also gone and done something pretty remarkable in Turkey, winning the Champions League with an abysmal team, effectively turning the course of our proud football club at a time when it needed turning the most. ‘How could I leave after a night like this?’ I remember Gerrard saying in a post-match interview. How indeed.

The events that followed the 25^th of May 2005 were farcical. When it was announced that the club captain was leaving for Chelsea, the reasons given sounded like a criticism of Liverpool’s administration system more than anything else: they’ve taken too long to offer me a contract, they’ve gone on holiday at the wrong time etc. To me, they sounded like the desperate excuses of a man who, despite the European victory, still wanted out. Maybe his agent got to him, maybe he couldn’t stand Benitez any longer, or didn’t trust him. Maybe he just thought enough was enough, he’d go to London and take the easy road with the cockneys. The very thought of Gerrard returning to Anfield in a blue shirt, probably scoring against us at the Kop end, turned my stomach – how could he ever, ever want that? How would he be happy winning the title with one of our fiercest rivals, whose fans barely muster a single chant in 90 minutes of a home game and whose manager at the time was doing his level best to insult LFC at every opportunity?

I could not understand a man who put both money and success above his own identity, when that very identity offered him those things but in slightly lesser measure. At the end of the day, it’s possible that at Chelsea he would have earned ten or twenty thousand a week more than at Liverpool, but who needs £150k a week anyway? And with us he’s won every major trophy bar one, the coveted Premier League; but Chelsea are in a similar position, having never won their coveted Champions League. For Gerrard to consider leaving us in 2005 was disgusting.

Thus for a couple of years I was far from his biggest fan. I cheered when he scored, but was far less enthusiastic about his character. To me, he was like a spoiled brat who threw his toys out of the pram when taskmaster Benitez arrived.

But who could deny that, having sorted out their working relationship, Gerrard and Rafa have come to form what must be considered as Liverpool’s most effective partnership (rivalled only by the Torres-Gerrard team dreamt up by Rafa)? Gerrard has improved hugely as a player, found his long-cherished best position, and become a fantastic captain. His interviews with the press these days contain tones of respect and humility, and his behaviour on the pitch, once so petulant, is now second to none. Fair enough, he slipped up last year with his bar-room brawl, but he was not convicted of anything apart from being a bit of an idiot when he’s had a drink. There are still murmurs in the press about a possible move away from Liverpool, but you can guarantee these days that none of them were started by Gerrard’s entourage. In the peak of his career, the captain knows that going anywhere else would be futile – in 2005 he decided on staying with us once and for all, and I don’t think he’s ever looked back.

With his 500^th game on the horizon, it’s time to forgive (if not forget) the digressions in Steven Gerrard’s Liverpool career, to draw a line under them. He’s earned as much from us. Even if he never brings us the title, it won’t matter. He has come to be one of the greatest players in the modern game (just ask Zidane), and has, at the end of the day, remained loyal to his hometown club. To me, that means more than any silverware ever can – there are plenty of mediocre players who have Premiership winner’s medals at home, but none of them will be remembered like Gerrard. Even if Carra remains my favourite player, in future I’ll make sure it is known that our captain is right up there with him.