From Portsmouth's 2-1 win over Stoke City today: the marking was not what you'd call "tight" or…um…"marking", but still, seeing Peter Crouch score from an overhead kick is like watching Niagara Falls run upward. Terrified 1950s honeymooners run screaming, trying to put as much distance as they can between themselves and the monstrosity. A desire [...]

Three days ago, Portsmouth officially unveiled Peter Crouch as the newest member of their squad. I'm happy about this for any number of reasons—my new hobby is constructing little scenes around the logistical challenges of veiling him in the first place (Harry Redknapp: "You can still see his fffffucking knees, can't you, Nigel? What've you [...]

Well, that was fun! The first-ever Run of Play contest has run its course, and for a blog competition that wasn't even organized around the publication of a vaguely cynical tie-in book (next time, guys) I think we did pretty well. You wanted to choose the player for tomorrow's portrait, and you fought [...]

After the reckless assault of one-liners that resulted in Tuesday's Portrait of Peter Crouch, I thought it would be fun to get everyone in on the act, and to that end, I'm delighted to unveil the first-ever Run of Play Contest. Curious? Read on.
The Task: Describe Peter Crouch in one line. One [...]

The trouble with Peter Crouch isn't how to describe him, it's how not to describe him, how to stop describing him. You could go on forever. He plays like two paperclips locked in a fight to the death. He has the shoulders of a kangaroo and the head of a quarter-teaspoon. [...]