The 411: Modern media provides certain moments of such profound surrealism it takes your breath away. Stan Collymore throwing down on Vanilla Ice on Channel Five's 'The Farm' was one such moment. You could put 15 TV execs in a room with 40 kilos of cocaine and they'd never come up with anything like that.

The prospect of the wayward footballing genius and ex teeny-bop rapper going 15 rounds of unarmed combat had the most seedy voyeuristic quality imaginable. But like much of the career of Stanley Victor Collymore it had that rubbernecking motorway pile-up effect - you don't want to look but you can't tear your eyes away.

And he's difficult to avoid right now promoting his 'Tackling My Demons' autobiography - a treatise on shagging, celebrity and mental illness. That's got to be a seller, right?

"He bears the marks of celebrity therapy like infantry bear battle scars..."

It's easy to forget in the current media melee what an awesomely gifted footballer Collymore was - strong as an ox, fast, intelligent, two good feet and a lethal finisher. That he did not collect 70 or 80 England caps may say something about the English game but question marks over his temperament go back to the early days of his career.

And it all ended in domestic violence, depression and a seemingly endless string of scandals. Partly through necessity, Collymore deals with all these issues with startling frankness. He bears the marks of celebrity therapy like infantry bear battle scars.

Back in the day, professional footballers would have scoffed at the idea of therapy. These days it's almost compulsory. If you haven't punched your wife, snorted coke, contemplated suicide or bought a season ticket to the Priory nobody wants to know. No wonder Michael Owen's holding fire on the next volume of his snoozefest - people aren't really looking to read about his overdue library books from 1992.

Collymore's diagnosis of clinical depression gets him sympathy in certain quarters which he's not really entitled to. If you make the analogy with physical illness, George Best abused his gifts and his body, binged endlessly and ended up with totally avoidable physical illnesses: heart and liver disease.

Likewise, if you treat all your women like shit, disrespect your playing colleagues, your fans, the clubs who employ you, you're going to leave yourself isolated and therefore at greater risk of depression and other mental health problems. And that's exactly what happened to Collymore. Nobody is arguing that this boy has got problems but he brought many of them upon himself just as surely as Best did.

"he can recite the addiction psychobabble verbatim but he so plainly has not taken it on board it's embarrassing..."

The most depressing thing about Collymore is that he never seems to learn from his mistakes. One self-destructive act follows another. Like Christopher from the Sopranos, he can recite the addiction psychobabble verbatim but he so plainly has not taken it on board it's embarrassing. Whenever confronted with what he's done wrong his eyes glaze over, there's a shake of the head and it's 'poor old Stan' again.

The athletic ability of a maestro and the temperament of a shit-heel. Who says God doesn't have a sense of humour?

The best thing about it: Marvelling at the celebrities he shagged.

The worst thing about it: Despairing at the talent he wasted.

The verdict on Stan Collymore: You can take the boy out of Cannock....

Marks out of 10: 6

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