MY father died nine months ago this very day, but if there's any justice he'll now be in some celestial bar a grin as wide as the Mersey rippling across his face while sinking a glass of lager accompanied by a whisky chaser.

You see me dad was an Evertonian, a true blue faith he kept even through his last withering days wracked by a pernicious and vicious cancer. And when marginalised by his two sons who, to his sheer disbelief, opted to support Liverpool, he never wavered in extolling the virtues of the School of Science.

Right now he's laughing the most. As we Reds ponder on where talismanic Steven Gerrard is bound for in the summer while also wondering just where Michael Owen's goal touch has disappeared to, Evertonians are yelling from the roof-tops about the wonder-kid, the Croxteth cracker, the hogger of screaming headlines - Wayne Rooney.

Not since the first flowering of Paul Gascoigne has a nation been so gripped by a player. Wayne has not just set Euro 04 alight. He has blazed across the group games like a comet, dragging the rest of his England team-mates into Thursday's quarter-final showdown against hosts Portugal. And he is still aged only 18.

You can tell the bull-necked genius has seized public affection, acclaimation and admiration because he is now referred to by a single name. Just like Gascoigne, though his moniker was boiled down to the tabloidese Gazza, just like Best, just like - dare I say it even? - Pele.

Brazil's legendary performer propelled his frame into football's firmanent at an even younger age when, at 17, he decorated the 1958 World Cup with grace, guile and gusto.

Rooney has done the same to suggest a summer of silverware for the three lions' brigade. Now it could all come crashing down around the Scouser's sticky-out ears, but it will not be his fault.

England have laboured, despite all national coach Sven-Goran Eriksson's insistence that 'the team has played good football'. Few could forget those stab-like stoppage-time minutes against the French, while command over the Swiss was not garnered until the unfortunately-named Bernt Haas was sent off. Even in confirming quarter-final status against Croatia there were moments more hairy than the growth bristling out of Rooney's over-worked collar.

But no blame can be attached to the teenager. He has been a lion-hearted performer, who has terrorised, tormented and toppled a trio of rearguards to give him four goals in three games.

Not Zidane, not Henry, not Larsson, Rooney is now the tournament's leading marksman. But it's the maturity, vision and sheer audacity of his play which has elevated him into the spotlight.

Much was made before the Croatia encounter of his fiery temper, that he would be singled out, that he was a volcano ready to implode, let alone explode. He was, however, as cool as an Arctic sunset, especially when he applied his coup de grace brace.

No wonder 'me oul fella' is now chuckling into his glass. He knew a good centre-forward when he saw one and he witnessed first hand so many good 'uns clad in Everton's royal blue.

As a youngster elbowing through 60,000-plus crowds at Goodison Park there was the legendary Dixie Dean. Then there was Tommy Lawton and Alex Young. Me dad said the boy Rooney was in their class. Cheers Jim and cheers Wayne.

Updated: 11:01 Tuesday, June 22, 2004