John Jensen's Goal

As far as career defining moments this one has to be the most bittersweet.

For a player who scored the opening goal in a European Championships final to be remembered almost exclusively for a single goal in a 3-1 defeat to QPR must be a little deflating to say the least.

At the time, however, it was a joyous occasion for both player and fans alike. My part in this small but momentous occasion was miniscule but it has left an idelible mark on the scrapbook of my memory. I was sat in the stands level with the penalty box where Jensen received the ball. Highbury must have been all-seater by then otherwise I would have been wedged in at the front of the Junior Gunners terrace. Like everyone else wearing red in that stadium I was willing for this to be the moment. For this to be John Jensen's goal.

In front of me sat two rather benign, middle-aged QPR fans living in blissful ignorance of the fact that they were receiving the glowering of a lifetime from the angry little teenager behind them. My fury was only abated when I noticed them laughing happily after I'd screamed "shoooot!" at John Jensen while he was clearing our lines from a corner. Then as now nothing placates me like someone laughing at my jokes.

It was pure chance that I happened to be at that game, I was not able to attend Highbury for every game, though I went to as many as I could. Saturdays at the time were spent playing little league football in the morning, training with my Sunday league team in the evening, then playing the next morning, before going home to experiment with masturbation on a Sunday afternoon. It was tradition however that my dad, my brother and I would attend at least one of the games around the Christmas period. It just so happened that John Jensen chose that game to break his duck.

It was a fantastic goal by any standards. And Highbury burst into song in a way I've never heard before or since. So often we have the accusation of our ground being a 'library' levelled at us, well that day we stood up and ripped down the 'silence please' signs.

The result was unimportant, never has a crowd been so jubilant after a loss, but the thing that defines the moment for me was John Jensen's reaction, there was no thought of savouring the moment for himself, no pointing to the name on his back or pretence at badge kissing, he just ran straight to the crowd this was for us as much as him and Jensen knew it. And what more can a fan ask for than when a millstone is removed from a players neck the first people he thinks of is the fans who stuck by him while he endevoured to remove it?

Maybe the professional game today could do with a few more Johnny Jensens. Though not too many, 0-0 draws would get tiresome after a while.

My All-Time Spurs XI

GK: Bobby Mimms

Although generally second choice at White Hart Lane, Bobby was the kind of keeper who always got his hands to the ball. Generally when picking it out of the back of the net.

RB: Dean Austin

Voted in the top 50 worst Premiership players, the Austinator as he was known to no one lost his place to Stephen Carr. Frankly he could've lost his place to Alan Carr and it would've been an improvement.

LB: Ben Thatcher

When he wasn't playing well Thatcher resorted to violence. That was pretty much every match.

CB: Ramon Vega

Alan Sugar was always wary of signing any old Carlos Kickaball. He should've been more wary of Ramon 'Kickaballintomyowngoal' Vega. Vega has recently set up his own soccer school. Bet that's popular.

CB: Gary Doherty

Equally cack in defence as attack, Gary was instrumental in keeping Spurs mediocre all through his time at the club.

RM: Andy Sinton

Signed as part of Gerry Francis' campaign to bring every winger in the world to Tottenham, Sinton was picked by Graham Taylor to play for England. But then so was Carlton Palmer.

LM: Andy Reid

The only player to play for Tottenham that was fatter than Gazza.

CM: Steffen Freund

You thought John Jensen's goal scoring record was bad. Steffen's was worse.

CM: Paul Stewart

Here for his hair more than anything else. If it looks like Tom Jones's merkin shave it off, Paul.

CF: Chris Armstrong

Fighting off strong competition from the likes of Rebrov and Iversen, Armstrong makes it into this team due to his complete inability to step up to top level football. And his penchant for weed.

CF: Ronny Rosenthal

Son of Jim, Ronny showed an uncanny ability to miss from anywhere. Even 4 yards out. Regularly.

Footballing Heroes: Richard Wright

Richard Wright was born in Ipswich in 1977 and signed for Arsenal in 2001 after a successful period at Ipswich Town.

Touted as the next David Seaman, Wright had to deal with a huge weight of expectation on his shoulders. It crushed him.

Little is known of Richard Wright's youth, other than the fact that he was the seventh son of a seventh son. This led many people to believe young Richard would grow up to have strong magical powers.

Living in Ipswich this superstition was treated as scientific fact and farmers would often bring their sick animals round for the baby Wright to heal. After five years if finally dawned on the farmers of Ipswich that none of their livestock had recovered after being touched by little Richard, apart from Mr Muggins' cow, but that had only had a little cough anyway and had probably cleared up naturally. They denounced the entire Wright family as black magicians and went back to using the local vet.

Richard, who was blissfully unaware of the stigma he had brought upon his family would often try to join in the football games the kids played at the local park. They would never let him participate. However, one day a child told him "Richard, we don't like you, you can't play. If you were tall at least we could stick you in goal, but we can't 'cos your a midget." That night the diminutive Richard miraculously grew two foot.

News of this 6ft seven-year-old soon reached Ipswich Town FC's scouts and they snapped him up immediately, figuring they could teach him how to play in goal. Despite his lack of ability the manager felt powerless to stop himself picking Wright for every game. No one could explain why. Even more mysteriously Wright then signed for Arsenal, Wright denies any use of witchcraft in engineering this move.

However, Richard Wright's seemingly magical powers of goalkeeping seemed to desert him at Arsenal, maybe it was the turn of the millenium or maybe David Seaman was a more powerful white witch, but whatever the reason Wright's abilities dwindled. The most likely scenario is that he was just plain rubbish.

Nowadays Richard Wright can be often found standing over a bubbling cauldron trying to get the exact ingredients to bring back his magical prowess. Little does he know that all he needs to add is the Premiership winners medal that he actually genuinely has and the spell will be complete.

Peter Crouch's New Book

The following is an excerpt from Peter Crouch's forthcoming autobiography 'Tall Tales'.

As an integral part of the England team no one felt worse after our defeat to Croatia than me. Especially as Steve McLaren got so much stick for it. The whole umbrella thing was my fault, being so much taller than the rest of the squad I was the first to feel the raindrops. "Better put your brolly up, boss" I said. I was only having a laugh.

When we went out I thought I better concentrate on my Liverpool career. Unfortunately Rafa the gaffer doesn't like me. Partly because I call him Rafa the Gaffer rather than Mr. Benitez like the other lads. Also he hasn't spoken to me since I did my robot dance, apparently he had a nephew who lost an eye to a rogue robot. I was only having a laugh.

So it looks like I'll be plying my trade elsewhere next year. Again I think I have to take the blame for that too. I spoke to Mr Parry and he said "I think you're worth twice your height in millions Peter." So I said "Blimey, I'd take half that, I'm all gangly awkwardness and no end product." I mean, come on, I was only having a laugh.

Footballing Heroes: Eddie McGoldrick

Howling, prowling, roaring, scoring, steady Eddie McGoldrick signed for Arsenal in 1993 after a successful spell at Crystal Palace.

At Palace he became a crowd favourite for his sterling work on the wing. At Arsenal he didn't.

Little is known of McGoldrick's early life other than the fact that he was born in Islington in 1965. He spent much of his childhood in foster care before he was adopted at the age of 7 by a very caring London couple.

At the time of his adoption little Eddie had only the clothes on his back and a strange amulet that that had been left in his cot when he had been abandoned on the steps of the foster home. Despite his now settled home life and the huge amount of love bestowed on him by his adopted parents McGoldrick always felt something was lacking in his life.

To try and combat this Eddie took to playing football, and despite his obvious mediocrity he persevered with the game eventually being snapped up by Northampton before moving to Palace. While at Palace he won the Zenith Data Systems Cup. As he was given his winners medal he was suprised to notice that the shape of it exactly matched his childhood amulet. He looked into the eyes of the man presenting him with the medal. The likeness was uncanny, Eddie had found his long lost twin brother.

His twin brother told him how he had orchestrated McGoldrick's entire career. Which explained why he had managed to get a professional contract despite his lack of talent. As a final act of kindness his brother said he'd get him a transfer to any club he liked. McGoldrick chose Arsenal.

£2000 in George Graham's back pocket later and Eddie McGoldrick arrived. His brother however fled the country under mysterious circumstances.

Eddie McGoldrick now wanders the Earth looking for his brother again, cradling his Zenith Data Systems Medal alongside his precious amulet and the Cup Winners Cup medal that he also actually, genuinely has.

Gary Neville's How To Play Football

The Art Of Defence:

A good defender is like a good moustache, it has to be strong and bold. A lacklustre moustache leaves the upper lip unguarded and a poor defender does the same to his goalkeeper. A striker is like puff pastry and no self respecting moustache lets pastry past without a fight.

Tactics:

Choosing your tactics is essential. In fact it's a lot like choosing the style of your moustache. Some people will go for a moustache for all occasions, others with the use of wax or clever trimming will adapt their moustache to suit the situation. For example a handlebar when going to job interviews and a Salvador Dali-esque tash when meeting a lady.

Positioning:

As a fullback a good sense of positioning is essential. I tend to think of it in terms of a moustache. Sometimes you need a moustache that spreads out across the width of your face other times you need to trim it so it barely juts out past your nostrils.

Marking:

There are two types of marking - zonal and man marking. I find with either one I get exposed if I'm up against someone with pace. However, to combat this I compare the two styles to my moustache. Man marking is like the middle of my tash, it clings to my upper lip and goes where my lip goes. Sometimes it tickles me but I just cant shake it off. Zonal is more like the edges of my moustache; looser, freer. They have the oppurtunity to move around but sometimes I find they are out of position. So which one do I prefer? I find a combination of zonal and man marking makes for a perfect moustache.

Footballing Heroes: Pascal Cygan

Pascal Cygan was born in Lens in France in 1974 and signed for Arsenal in 2002. He came with high expectations having been voted the best defender in the French league the season before. These hopes were soon dashed.

Arsenal have a long history of fine centre backs. Pascal Cygan however is not part of it. Little is known of Cygan's early life other than he was the son of a fashion photographer. This meant that young Pascal spent much of his youth being dragged to fashion shows where he was fussed over by models and designers. His father would often allow him to be dressed in flamboyant clothes and have his long flowing locks tended to by the many equally flamboyant stylists. However, one day tragedy struck when in a terrible accident with hair straighteners and excessive bleach caused Pascal to lose all his hair.

Subsequently he was shunned by the fashion world and forced to go and play with the rough kids on the tough streets of Lens. At first they didn't want to accept this snappily dressed dandy into their games of football but slowly Cygan integrated himself by saying he was happy to play in defence. Being the first child in the history of the world who wasn't just forced to play there because he wasn't much good.

His rise throught the youth system was meteoric and he was soon playing professional football, however he would often suffer massive losses in concentration when his mind would wander to thoughts of what Sarah Jessica Parker was wearing in the previous episode of Sex and the City.

Since leaving Arsenal he moved to Villareal who thought they could stop his flights of girlish fantasy. They were wrong.

Nowadays Pascal Cygan can most often be found sitting at home trying to design an outfit that will go with the premiership medal that he actually genuinely has. He has some good ideas, if only he could find a wig that would match the sequins.