NINE years old is quite young to fall in love, but Tranmere Rovers Scottish striker Georgie Yardley was a very special man.

We used to sit on the bonnet of his gold-striped Capri parked outside the "Tiffan" on Borough Road and wait for him to come out with Kingy and Casey.

Nothing was too much trouble, he was an unspeakably kind man.

George will be remembered as a prolific goalscorer, right up there with Pongo, Muiry, Aldo and now Nors but his life journey was epic by any standards.

This tri-emigrant Aussie Scot was born and now rests in Kirkcaldy where he was first recognised as a goalkeeper, yes, goalkeeper of outstanding ability and was picked up by East Fife.

We only really ever mention East Fife in the old joke about the 5-4 match with Forfar but, just like Port Vale and Raith Rovers, there is no such place but George was to put them on my map big time.

George won an international cap for Scotland as a goalie before the first cruel injury ended his career between the sticks and my nomadic hero set sail for Oz.

Down under George became a striker and his exploits got him a trial with Luton but they released him after four weeks, so it was an ironically lovely Christmas present for George to score the first of his many Rover winners on boxing day 1966 against Luton.

Even Eric Morecambe would have seen the funny side of that. 

By the summer of '67, George was a local folk hero and invited to open the school fete at St Anne's in Highfield Road, Rock Ferry.

George, as he was all his life, was keen to help so brought his goalie cap with him to be worn by anyone who could "Beat the Goalie (George himself)" three times out of 3.

A week's pocket money, a threepenny bit, secured me the right to wear George's international cap that day (did I really send my hero the wrong way for the third or was George being George?).

Speaking of hat-tricks George once scored against a Swindon side including Don Rogers (the poor man's George Best) in the 31st, 32nd and 33rd minutes into the Kop, beat that one Nors. 

All good things really do come to an end and so it was when the Football league, despite our protests, forced Tranmere to play a re-arranged game at the not Gay Meadow four days before our fifth-round tie at Goodison and a chap named Woods put George in hospital for six weeks and our much loved nomad went back to Sydney.

Forty years later, Yates and Koumas still failed to heal my broken heart. George lay in hospital on what should have been the greatest day of my 11-year-old life.

George returned for a second spell but the injury had taken its toll and he went back to Oz where he played for St. George's (where else?) in Sydney.

Forty years later, I was standing in the Shrew in Oxton discussing horses with Ponch Parnell when an elderly Scotsman walked in wearing an Old Parkonians Rugby Shirt.

It was George, fresh from coaching our local kids - he just never changed.

I confessed my adulation and asked him how a centre forward who was twice the countries leading goalscorer never got a big money move and through tears of laughter, endorsed by Roy. 

He answered in the strangest of Auusie/scot accents "they all came to see me but left when they saw 40 year old linesmen overlap me!!!".

That said it all about what George he was great and humble.

Maybe, we should buy a set if we get Everton in the third round! Final word on George should be to recall our best ever club song-(To the tune of "Mc Manamas Band): 

His name is Georgie Yardley, he's the leader of our team - the greatest football team the world has ever seen

"Our name is Tranmere Rovers and we play in lily white and if you come to Prenton Park we'll beat you Friday night. 

Thanks George.

Bill McGenity, by email