What more do you have to do? You’re Steven Gerrard, you cut through the middle, suck in two defenders and slide it through to your striker running into the six-yard box. Unfortunately, that striker’s name is Peter Crouch.
A dodgy first touch, a shot straight into the keeper’s legs, and you wonder what sort of striker fluffs an opportunity like that? I wonder sometimes, watching other teams play, including Benfica, what the difference between their front line and ours is? It’s mystifying. Are we really that crap?
If Crouch had taken that chance, that easy, glorious, on-a-silver-platter chance, things would have been so different.
But they’re not. We are crap, and we’re out. So long bragging rights.