286: Peter Crouch, Tottenham Hotspur, Topps Match Attax Trading Card Game, Barclays Premier League 2010/11 Collector Binder

Today Mat Jolin-Beech takes a look at the other side of football’s revolving door transfer market through the medium of an English centre forward it’s almost impossible not to like. Unless you’re a Trinidadian centre half that is. For a man who played for more clubs than he appeared to have had hot dinners the back end of August and January every year must have been fairly stressful for him and his family. Then again I’m sure he took it all in his loping stride. Over to Mat

The life of a modern day, elite level footballer is one we all dream of. In fact, some of us still believe, given the right opportunity, we could once again don our lime green Nikes and go pro. With that, we’d be playing the game we love for a living, gaining fame, fortune, and immortality.

Becoming a fully-fledged international player gains extra perks. Travelling to the World Cup or Euros as part of the squad, representing the hopes and dreams of your nation. The ultimate honour. There are stresses that come with it that must be acknowledged. The pressure to perform. The vitriol that comes should you drop a howler or not perform as expected.

Then there comes the joys of the transfer deadline day, something which should become a national holiday so we can all be glued to our screens and watch the big deals unfold. It comes with drama, suspense, and an undying hope that a big deal will be plucked out of nowhere that will make your season. However, for the footballers, this is a case of your life being potentially thrown upside down on the whim of a manager and chairman. Take one Peter Crouch, once of Tottenham Hotspur.

Life was good for everyone’s favourite beanpole striker. Spurs had been in the Champions League and had just finished fifth in the league. He’d been in the 2010 World Cup squad and hopes were high for continued call-ups and Three Lions recognition. The story goes that Daniel Levy called him up on 30th August to announce Emmanuel Adebayor was coming in, and that Crouch had to go. Despite being happy at Spurs (insert sour joke about any player being happy at Spurs these days) and being settled in the area, Levy didn’t care. Crouch was a commodity, an item surplus to requirements and being pushed out. The lanky Englishman didn’t want to go but was given the ultimatum: if you don’t go, you’re not getting a squad number. His world had been rocked overnight. The glamour of Champions League, England caps, and hefty weekly wages subsidising a lavish London lifestyle were shattered. 

Enter the reluctant deadline day move. Rumours were that Crouch was in a helicopter circling the Potteries ready to fly in and put pen to paper at Stoke City. The reality was far from that, and something far less glamourous and very-much more Peter Crouch. Remember, this is the guy who responded to the question “If you weren’t a footballer, what would you be?” with a simple two-word answer: “A virgin”. There were no helicopters in sight. Not even a chauffeur-driven, police escort. The reality was he was listening to the radio, hearing the helicopter rumours while sat in a McDonald’s drive through car park.

This is one of the many reasons why Peter Crouch is loved. Being 9’4” and only six stone is another. As is him scoring at the 2006 World Cup by mugging off Brent Sancho in the 83rd minute in Nuremberg. And then there is the robot. Peter Crouch. Never change.

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