Speaking as an eternal pessimist, I'm usually pretty optimistic going to Villa Park.

We've had a few hiccups there recently - the Hendrie penalty and the Vassell cup ko with his knee - but otherwise there have been a number of cracking results and performances in this part of the West Midlands.

Given that, I fancied us to get a good result and put on a decent display against a side who are genuinely struggling under their new manager to find anything like a bit of form. Our thumping of the Toffees hadn't seen us hit the heights but it had certainly been comprehensive against a side not dissimilar to Villa, especially after they too recently acquired a tall centre-forward - the frighteningly gangly Peter Crouch.

I haven't seen much of the lad on the telly despite having ITV Digital (most of us daft enough to have it still don't watch much Nationwide...) but let me tell you, in the flesh this bloke is an absolute freak of nature. He was warming up when we got in and despite being 70 yards away you couldn't help but notice that he is one very tall individual.

Now, Big Dunc is no dwarf but at least he's got some meat on him. I wouldn't be surprised if the Villa man was the lightest player on the pitch. He can't possibly be a footballer. I know what I'm talking about here, I'm reasonably tall myself and although bits wobble nowadays, as a teenager I had a similar build. All limbs and ney backside. 

I was never the most gifted player in the world but good enough for Gosforth West Middle School. However, once the hormones kicked in and growth became upwards not outwards
the coordination cruelly deserted me. Gangle is without doubt the enemy of skill and close control. 

A low centre of gravity is worth its weight in goals on the football pitch and when you look like Peter Crouch your centre of gravity is actually somewhere above your head. It's like one of those weird focal points of mirrors which is somewhere behind the wall.... Basically this man can not be a footballer. It's impossible.

Ian Ormondroyd, George Reilly, Kevin Francis and Carlton Palmer were able to kid people for a while that they were worth paying silly money for, and fair play to all four for making the most of their God-given but we all knew they couldn't really play the game.

No, to be a footballer you need to be one of those nimble, quick-footed, well-balanced, lean people who is also sickeningly good at cross-country running.

So why then did this bloke, who could easily have been in with the bearded women at the Hoppings, do so much damage to our hopes of another victory in Brum? I have absolutely no idea. 

He got off to a poor start, ducking under a couple of great crosses and looking like he was playing on stilts. By that time we'd already taken the lead and looked reasonably comfortable against a side who were definitely lacking in confidence.

But then like a bolt from the blue came a great cross from Gareth Barry and a damn fine header from the Stretch-Armstrong lookalike. OK, Dabizas was floundering again but credit where credit's due it was a good goal. Even his celebration looked all wrong, flailing limbs and awkward long-finger pointing - totally at odds with his ecstatic colleagues.

From then on we disintegrated and the stick-insect and his teammates grew in stature (only metaphorically thankfully for Crouch). Happily for us, Shay Given again proved that he's a leading candidate for player of the year with three more good stops.

As my co-collaborator pointed out after the game, a midfield of Dyer, Jenas, Robert and Solano just might not work away from home. You can get Distin and Hughes to come forward all you like and even ask Cort to drop back a bit but that midfield foursome just looks to be too lightweight to compete on foreign soil.

Shame, because despite all four not being at their best they still created some good openings and we really should have nicked it when sub Bernard had the chance to put Dyer through on goal. 

This mirrored a first half chance in added time, when Hughes wriggled clear and hurried down the right touchline needing only to hit a half-decent cross to find Dyer bursting through the middle. However the ball was played way too deep and Aaron walked the 75 yards back towards the tunnel apologising to Dyer.

Add to that another great chance for our England "left-sided" player (is it just me or does anyone else wonder where the collective wisdom for Dyer to be played on the left comes from?) and we could still have gone in at the break in the lead.

The second half was a shambles.

Villa pressed home their advantage in the middle of the park, they always seemed half a yard quicker and to have acres more room in which to play than us. To be honest, our players looked absolutely knackered which begs the question how they would have faired with a Saturday-Monday Easter programme like most other Premiership footballers.

We seemed to lack ambition. Our most-used attacking option was a 40 yard ball back to our man in yellow to hoof up to Shearer who was forever outjumped. When Al did get a flick (and wasn't blown up for it) Cort was nowhere to be seen, presumably playing to team orders, and rather odd orders they must have been - "stand forlornly out on the right, do not approach the number 9". 

Inevitably one or two of our following took exception to Cort's display and grumbles were evident, which should really have been directed towards the away dugout. Cort couldn't have been less effective playing infield, while Solano by contrast would surely have achieved more on the flank, or been taken off if he reprised his non-existent first half performance. Robert also seemed to annoy some with his display, but once again claimed an assist for our goal and was even seen tackling back to good effect on our own byline - I don't recall Ginola doing that too often for either of the two sides playing here tonight.   

We were definitely on the ropes and a better team than Villa should have beaten us. But we still had three great chances to please the "Magpies Steal..." headline writers. 

Solano was gifted the ball and should have done better with only Schmeichel to beat. The big Dane saved it (ah, perhaps Crouch could be a keeper - he even looks a bit like Van der Sar...) and Dyer bizarrely appealed for something against Schmeichel - handball against the keeper well inside his own box would definitely have been a harsh decision....even if he once played for Man Utd.

Dyer himself put a header just over the bar and then Bernard had the chance to put Kieron in the clear in the last few minutes but made a hash of his pass. Had that gone in, the ever-more saturating rainstorm would have mattered as much as the luckiness of our consequent victory to the large toon contingent behind Schmeichel's goal, but it wasn't to be.  

So not a bad result and not the worst display I've ever seen, but it felt like a defeat walking away from the ground. I think the Crouch thing had unduly bothered me. The very fundamentals of life itself (gangly blurks cannot play foota) had been shaken and the chance to steal a march on chasing Chelsea had been missed, apparently through our own lack of adventure. 

Had that attitude prevailed in other away games this season we'd not have taken three points at White Hart Lane to mention just one fixture when we took the initiative and reaped a reward.

While everyone clamours for the return of Bellamy I wonder whether the Premiership's most experienced midfielder might be more use to us at the moment? Get well soon Gary.

Niall MacKenzie