Saturday, June 03, 2006


Glen Crowe; a marauding terror of a striker. On top of his game, oozing confidence, hungry for the ball, hungry for goals. Solid. Strong. Fearless. A defenders nightmare, his hunger fuelling his movement, a controlling touch and he explodes away; ball at his feet as he bears down on his target and scornfully buries the ball past a jelly kneed keeper.

The crowd let loose, the music blasts as the assembled acolytes celebrate yet another thumping finish by their hero. But he's wearing a striped jersey. Longford Town? Cherry Orchard? Clonshaugh Albion? No, it's a Boez shirt. Ah! That Glen Crowe. No surprise then that Nutsy summoned him to his summer residence on the Richmond Road.

Yep, the last time I had the pleasure of watching the gifted striker score in an eL game he was in the Gypsies gear. And he was a treat to savour. Even in the most mundane of matches there was always the possibility of his incendiary finishing lighting up the night.

The lucid memories of which combine to make his recent cameo against his former club sad viewing. Shels were comfortably in control of the game when our hero was introduced. A perfect situation for a forward to enter a game. He's fresh, should be keen, his opponents are tiring, p'ed off at being behind again, bowing meekly out of the game. There should be space to exploit, surely chances will come.

Glen didn't have to wait very long. I'll be honest; I don't recall how he came to be in possession of the ball. But it was on Shels left side, a little infield, around the halfway line. He came onto the ball, possibly an intercepted pass, and he was moving at about 3/4 pace [.75 for the Europeans among you]. His first touch took the ball into the Bohs half. Crowe increased his rate of knots. He was moving powerfully after the ball; he caught up with it. Still a long way from goal, but with a clear run, the nearest oncoming opponent was on the far side of the pitch with a red flashing light in his eyes. Seeing the danger, he was preparing to abandon his post in an attempt to head off the looming danger.

Looming danger! There was more chance of El Rico getting a lift home from a referee than there was of Glen Crowe going for goal. In a matter of milliseconds his processors realised the situation- if I don't get rid of this ball quickly I'll have to go for goal- and you could see him scanning the pitch for a face saving pass. He switched the ball ridiculously to the right, the attack lost all momentum, the red flashing light switched off and..... nothing. Not a boo, not a jeer, not a groan.

The Glen Crowe of Bohs would have descended on the goal, scuttled the defender over and scored. I had a special moment with Glen Crowe, I was patched into his innermost thoughts, but obviously they're not all for public consumption. Here was a striker who had scored freely as the sharp edge of the Gypsies attack, revered by the Castleknock club's faithful.

But now I could only see fear; the fear of missing, the safety of not trying to score. Pass it, it looks like you're bringing others into the game, it's expansive. That's it. Expansive. Is Nutsy buying this? Definitely not. You've got to get out of there Glen.

I'm sure the money's good, always an important factor. Shels scored 62 league goals last season, he scored 8 of them. He hasn't scored yet this term; he's lost his place. Though I'm no fan of Jason Byrne, Nutsy obviously is. He has finally acknowledged to the country that Byrne into Crowe doesn't go. And Gary O'Neill, Crowe's mini-me, has firmly shoved the ex -Wolves man into the shade with his displays and more importantly, his goals.

Glen if you want to glow again, you've got to go.

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