" If he was 20 centimeters shorter and 10 kgs heavier, people would be saying "ah, decent player".

Its not easy being Peter Crouch these days. The new English Joke. Especially when you have to hear such stuff on a regular basis. To be honest, this article got delayed beacuse i myself wasn't too sure of Peter Crouch. Last season, when the Merseyside was waiting with baited breath for the arrival of Aimar or a certain Mr. Joaquin, Rafa shocked the world by signing him up. What was more astonishing was the fact that he signed him up for a price that matched with one of the most feared European strikers Fernando Morientes and was a shade under the price that saw Michael Owen packing his bags off to Madrid!

The boo-boys took over right then! The cries of ridicule were already starting to be heard, even before he stepped on the pitch he was being pulled down, people indicated that he had no future at the club and it was just the 6 months of decent form that got him his transfer.

Peter Crouch is no top class player let's be honest about it but he isn't as bad as he is made out to be. Crouch has a great technique for a big lad, He has a amazing attitude and mentality, a natural with the football at his feet, ofcourse he is tall, well so he makes every 50/50 ball turn into a 99% ball. Put him in a decent footballing side that plays normal attacking football and not just hoofs the ball to his head all the time and I think u might see results.

What people don't realise about Crouch is that he is not just a really tall guy to bounce crossess off his head, but that he can link up with his teammates quite well. Rafa's decision to play 4-5-1 with him as a lone striker with Luis Garcia for attacking support has predictably backfired. That is because he makes space for the smaller faster goalpoacher alongside him.

For Crouch to be effective there has to be an additional support striker playing along with him. A faster, pacier guy who could just get his flicks and knockdowns and convert them into goal scoring oppurtunities. There is no doubting this guy causes the defenders a lot of hassle, sometimes they have to put two defenders on him. Being deployed as a lone striker he often looked like a fish out of water.

Perhaps the best example of this type of system would be a look at the Czech setup. Infact if Crouch has to be compared with any striker it has to be with the Giant Jan Koller. Jan has performed so stupendously at both club and international level, starting from his days at Anderlecht where he had the clever little Thomas Radzinski for company and the both were part of a great strike force that made merry in the Belgian league scoring close to 50 goals in 99/00 season.

Koller then went on to form a feared patenership with Milan baros, the two performed stupendously while playing together for the Czech republic. It was often observed that Baros' performances were much better internationally and perhaps he owes much of it to Koller. With Koller holding the ball in the final third and Baros as an able sidekick they managed to crack open defences.

But, with Crouch's arrival, it was a surprise when Baros was sold to Villa because they could have made a decent patnership in the Premiership. Talking of the Premiership, Kevin Phillips-Nial Quinn strike forcee was a great success at Sunderland of all places. The two were brilliant together and almost ensured Phillips a place in the English NT.

Crouch and Phillips only started together 9 times for Southampton, the team score 16 goals in those 9 games, with those two getting 11 between them, If they played the whole season together, the Saints would still be in the Premiership. Crouch has only played with England once, Owen scored a hatrick against Columbia in that game.

To sum it up, i would like to say that give the man a chance after all,

Heskey could become a regular starter, then why not HIM?

When NASA began the launch of astronauts into space,
they found out that the pens wouldn't work at zero
gravity (ink won't flow down to the writing surface).
To solve this problem, it took them one decade and $12
million. They developed a pen that worked at zero
gravity, upside down, underwater, in practically any
surface including crystal and in a temperature range
from below freezing to over 300 degrees C.

He remembered what he had once been. He remembered all the things that he had survived, amazed that he had done so. And perhaps the worst torment of all was that he did not understand what had gone wrong.

Sure he knew what had happened, but those things had all been on the outside and somehow his understanding had gotten lost, leaving him alone and confused and without purpose. He was on autopilot. He knew that, but not where fate was taking him.

How did you ever get this screwed up? his mind demanded. He knew the answer but even that was not a full explanation. Different segments of this organism knew different parts of the whole story, but somehow they had never all come together, leaving the seperate fragments of what had once been a tough, smart and decisive man to blunder about in confusion and despair.

He tried to reason that the past was behind him and he should move on, and follow what his brain said, for once. But it was a conflict between EMOTION and REASON and predictably REASON LOST.

A voice told him that life ain't a movie...
People do not put their problem behind and ride into a sunset in life.
He Sighed.
He had been waiting to exhale for quite some time....
So he let the rain, wash away his tears.....

A sudden tap on the shoulder jolted him awake from his deep slumber. It was the bus conductor, indicating that the journey had come to an abrupt end owing to a flat tire. He gingerly rubbed his eyes and looked around. The bus was empty, as the area looked vaguely familiar, so he decided to walk.

His mind had been in a state of turmoil, so it gave him a chance to clear his head. Rain was in the air, he could sense that. He could always sense stuff, he had this gut feeling which almost always proved him right.

He was leaving this place.. FOREVER. And what did he feel about it? He pondered that question for a while, closing his eyes. A quite voice, perhaps conscience told him that he should feel something and he searched for a genuine emotion. After several minutes of consideration he could find none.

It was hard not having a soul, especially when you could remember having had one.

Slowly turning the corner, he stopped dead in his tracks. Air escaped his lungs and a sudden rush of hysteria gripped him, as he realised that he was BACK. Back to the site of his greatest achievement and his greatest loss. Time stood still as the sudden rush of memories flashed by him, the ones that had been haunting him and the ones that he had been running away from....

He stood deathly still, a dark silhoutte lay ahead. Suddenly, he started hearing the giggling sound that he so longed to hear.... saw the outstretched hand he so wanted to hold.... and the teardrop he so wanted to wipe... even the air started smelling the same....

He tried to tell himself that he was really in another place but the visions kept bringing him back. And the skeletons started to tumble from the closet...
He started having second thoughts about leaving, surprised at the cracks that seem to surface in his tough, stone cold interior.

(To Be Continued)

We as a nation are slowly moulding our personality to one of sheer cynicism. In all fairness, I think we have become a nation of cynics. It has become the new age mantra. The low mumblings of discontent are more frequently heard than the joyful expressions of happiness along the length and breadth of these lands.

Infact even when things are good for us, we are suspicious that it's just the prelude to another extended bout of misery and depression. Here, when things are good, we say they're 'not bad'. We define ourselves in the negative, not the positive.

This is why debates about who is the worst guy/gal/actor/person/sportsman etc illicit far more passionate debate than any amount of contemplation on who is the best.

Essentially, we like slagging people off. They allow us to divest ourselves of all the personal negativity, self-loathing and inadequacy and transfer it into someone else. It's at the moment of greatest self-doubt or when you're really under pressure in life, that you really need your "punching bags".

You can't get the same enjoyment out of applauding a great one. Only a full-throated verbal disembowelling of one of your own mingers properly releases all those inner tensions and emotions.

Sometimes it seems we're only happy when we're sad.
These are the sad state of affairs.