Bill Shankly famously invited journalists to take a walk around the “colossus” Ron Yeats such was his physical presence.
But the impact the rugged Scottish central defender had extended beyond the bounds of his considerable frame as the man who was Liverpool captain for a decade wrote his place in the club’s history.
Yeats, who has died at the age of 86, lifted the Reds’ first FA Cup in 1965, ignoring etiquette by telling the Queen he was “knackered” after an energy-sapping Wembley final win over Leeds.
He was Liverpool’s longest-serving captain (417 matches) until he was surpassed by Steven Gerrard, winning two league titles in a 10-year career at the club.
Yeats’ life experiences shaped the footballer he became and it was no surprise to see him become a leader of men at Anfield.
Born in Aberdeen in 1937, the childhood home was bombed during the Second World War and they lost everything.
Growing up with his two brothers and sister he played football in those bomb craters and on the dirt roads of his home town but he owed much to his Causewayend Primary teacher Miss Allen who spotted his potential and got him into the school team.
After leaving school at 15 he trained as a mason but when his uncle’s firm went bust he followed his father to the slaughterhouse, making £4 15 shillings a week (£4.75), with its 3am starts.
When he was 17 he was picked to play for Scotland Under-19s against England, Wales and Ireland and soon two representatives from Celtic contacted him telling him not to sign for anyone else before he heard from them.
Weeks passed, hope faded and when Dundee United offered him a contract Aberdeen Lads’ Club got an £80 transfer fee and Yeats a £20 bonus. Yeats later learned the two Celtic scouts had been in a car accident, with one killed and the other severely injured.
He continued to live in Aberdeen, 70 miles from his new club, and was still getting up at 3am on a Saturday to work at the slaughterhouse, slaughtering up to 12 animals before catching the 9.20am train to Dundee.
So the approach from Liverpool four years later would come as a blessed relief. And Shankly worked his magic early on.
“Shankly made me feel like a million dollars,” Yeats would recall.
“We were coming down the M6, with vice-chairman Sidney Reaks, who had a Rolls Royce at the time, and me and Bill in the back. I was only 23 and didn’t know what to say.
“Bill just turned round and said: ´Ron, I want you to captain the side. You will be my eyes, my ears and my voice on that pitch’, I thought to myself, ‘bloody hell’.
“I did that for him, captain Liverpool, for 10 years. It was the best 10 years of my career and my life.”
On his arrival at Anfield, Shankly told the waiting press: “Take a walk around my centre-half, gentlemen, he’s a colossus!’
Yeats, known as Rowdy by the Kop, helped steer the Reds out of Division Two in his first season and to the Division One title inside two years before that historic FA Cup win, forming a formidable partnership with Tommy Smith.
“I was 6ft 2.5 inches and 14.5 stone so when I tackled someone he must have felt it. I wasn’t dirty as far as dirty is concerned. I used to make sure I was there or thereabouts,” said Yeats.
“At that time we had these big centre forwards to play against. I always knew if there was going to be a battle I would win the battle. I wouldn’t come second to nobody.”
Yeats played with Smith for seven seasons, adding: “We let the ball go past us, but never the ball and the man.”
Incredibly he won just two Scotland caps and after 454 Liverpool appearances he left to be Tranmere’s player-manager for three years, followed by a brief spell in America in his late 30s before returning to Anfield in 1986 as chief scout, a role he held for two decades.
He said his proudest achievement was signing Sami Hyypia, a centre-back and leader like himself.
Alzheimer’s was to take hold in later life, with Yeats feeling the football of his era played its part.
“The football itself was incredibly heavy, especially when it was wet,” he said.
“Most of the times you headed it you’d just think Jesus Christ! It’s almost impossible to imagine.”
He was Shankly’s colossus, hewn from Aberdeen granite, but sadly even Yeats found an opponent whose progress he could not halt.
