1) Marius Lacatus, Romania 1-1 Argentina, Italia 90
Crossing is a funny old part of the game. It is a percentage tactic, yet those percentages aren't particularly good; only around one in five crosses are accurate. Most crosses, particularly from near the touchline, are not played with a specific team-mate in mind. That's only logical. All you see are a few moving dots in the distance; it is essentially a 40-yard pass, often with defenders in the way, and not everybody can be Paul Scholes or Diego Maradona. So most crossers, like fast bowlers, aim to hit a general area and do a bit with the ball, be it dip, swerve, pace or whatever. That in itself takes considerable skill, and thus it is not right to dismiss crossing as a primitive tactic.
If it is ostensibly odd to place so much faith in something so imprecise, it may simply be that, in terms of success, crosses compare favourably to other tactics in the final fifth of the pitch: the long shot, the killer pass and the dribble. It's certainly the case that nothing has the capacity to disorientate a defence quite like an effective cross. Take Marius Lacatus's against Argentina at Italia 90, which created the goal that put a good Romania side into the second round of a World Cup for the first time. From near the touchline, Lacatus delivered a growling far-post cross which sparked such havoc that Gavril Balint was able to equalise with a deceptively good header before you could say "What's the Romanian for 'put it in the fakkin mixer?'"
There is something uniquely compelling about the deep cross, perhaps because of the ball's extra hang time. Oldham's Rick Holden was the galumphing king of the back-post boomer: he threw his entire being into crosses, following through to such an extent that it's a surprise he didn't pull 14 different muscles every time.
2) Aron Winter, Holland 3-1 Germany, Euro 92
For all that, a small proportion of crosses are undoubtedly passes. Andy Cole produced a gorgeous half-volleyed example in Manchester United's epic European Cup semi-final victory over Juventus 15 years ago, a game in which Tuttosport gave Cole rather than Roy Keane the Man of the Match award. There are head-up cutbacks, such as Robert Pires's to win Euro 2000, and quick square passes as with this simple Danish move.
Then there's this delightfully clean Holland goal at Euro 92, with Aron Winter combining two sub-genres: the cross as pass and the chipped cross. In a couple of seconds, having almost been knocked off his feet, Winter calculates that the only feasible option is a pass to Dennis Bergkamp, that the pass must be lofted because of the position of the covering Thomas Helmer, that it's Bergkamp arriving so he can trust him to take on a difficult first-time header from 12 yards, and that it's the bloody Germans so it would quite nice to score here. It's an unobtrusively supreme demonstration of quick wit and technique. Winter flips it over Helmer's head, and Bergkamp arrives dramatically from out of shot to plant a superb header into the net.
3) David Beckham, Real Madrid 4-0 Real Zaragoza, Copa del Rey 2005-06
There is a paradox surrounding the career of David Beckham. Many people go out of their way, sometimes aggressively, to assert he was not a great footballer, yet nobody disputes he was a great crosser and perhaps the greatest of all time. (Ordinarily we resent the assumption that the best of modern times is the best of all time, but given the developments in technique and football boots it's hard to believe anyone has made the ball talk quite as Beckham did.) Given the fundamental nature of crossing, it's hard to reconcile those observations. It might be that crossing is seen as a blue-collar skill – an observation Beckham apparently shared, given his desire to join the perceived artists in centre-midfield – though that could only be a partial explanation.
"His crossing [was] unparalleled regardless of variables: hooked, lobbed, whipped, chipped, driven, lifted or curled, bouncing or dead, looped or flat, and from any conceivable body position," wrote Daniel Harris in his book on Manchester United's treble. That was the thing with Beckham: he had one trick, but he had so many different ways of demonstrating that trick that it was extremely difficult to stop, especially as he didn't need to beat his man to get a cross in. He was a dead-ball specialist and also a dying-ball specialist: although Beckham was equally happy with a languid, lean-back sidefoot on the run or a dainty chip, his signature crosses in open play involved a ball that was barely moving, which allowed him to use the same technique as with corners and free-kicks.
That technique was as unique as Michael Johnson's running style or Muttiah Muralitharan's bowling action. Beckham's body shape was like a badly drawn stick man. Left arm sticking out like a lollipop lady's; right arm down by his side; standing foot planted at 45 degrees very close to the ball – very important this, we suspect, though we haven't a clue why – and right foot stretched back as far as possible in preparation to come through the ball like a lumberjack's axe. (Tom Cleverley once copied that technique to great effect, though we've no idea what the moral of that particular story might be.)
We could easily have made this the Joy of Six: David Beckham crosses. Let's settle for three. This is the definition of undefendable; this gathers pace and takes on a life of its own in mid-flight; and this homing missile to Ronaldo is simply the most ridiculous cross/pass we will see even if we live to 271. Real had lost the first leg of their semi-final to Real Zaragoza 6-1. This put them 3-0 up inside 10 minutes of the return; they eventually won 4-0 and went out 6-5 on aggregate. The match almost went into Real folklore. The cross that created the third goal will always be a YouTube staple; it currently has over 16 million views.
4) Jason McAteer, Liverpool 4-3 Newcastle, Premier League 1995-96
There were many sub-genres of cross we wanted to prattle on about. The stand-up. The cross that becomes famous for what follows. The first-time cross . The accidental goal. The deliberate goal. The cross from an apparently impossible position that inadvertently catalyses the most miserable month of your career. The driven cross. The scoop, as eerily homaged by Aaron Ramsey this season. The headed cross. The rabona. The Bébé.
This isn't the Joy of Eighteen, however, and we're already done enough to irritate the poor person who has to put in all these hyperlinks, so let's move straight to another sub-genre: the cross into the corridor of uncertainty. Luís Figo gave an immaculate demonstration in his final World Cup game, as did Steve Hodge 20 years earlier. There's also this Barry Davies-approved peach from Don Goodman, and a stunning no-look flick from the days when Wayne Rooney was good.
But we've selected one from Jason McAteer as part of our six. The greatest Premier League game of all was a good one for crosses. In the second minute Stan Collymore gave another reminder of the formidable two-footedness that made him the most naturally talented of England's brilliant crop of mid-90s centre-forwards. (Yes, we do include Alan Shearer in that. Shearer was an all-time great and Collymore, sadly, an also-ran, but it shouldn't need explaining that natural talent and achievement are two different things entirely.) Then, with Liverpool 3-2 down, Collymore benefited from an even better cross by McAteer, curved into an area where defenders and goalkeepers don't know whether to stick, twist, phone a friend or start crying. McAteer isn't always the smartest bloke, as one particular pizza company could confirm, but this particular cross had an IQ of about 175.
5) Luka Modric, Spain 1-0 Croatia, Euro 2012
The outside of the foot is the exclusive domain of the classy footballer. Did you ever see poor old Ade Akinbiyi use the outside of his foot? Exactly. If Andy Gray says it's the hardest cross in the game, that's good enough for us. When the Joy of Six was growing up, the outside of the foot came just behind our RE teacher and those strange hairs on the list of otherworldly fascinations. Entirely fictitious research shows that, in English football between 1985 and 1990, only four out of 987,129 passes were played with the outside of the foot, all of which went out for a throw-in. English football, left to its own devices by the rest of Europe, regressed to a level of thoroughly endearing crapness. An outside-of-the-foot pass was so unusual and continental that anyone who tried it risked being booked for ungentlemanly conduct.
All of which is why we wanted to use Mark Hughes's criminally under-appreciated Fergie-saving pass as one of our six, until we watched it again and realised we couldn't quite justify it as a cross. So instead here's Luka Modric against the Spanish Art Project at Euro 2012, part of a masterful individual performance against the world's best team. It's the kind of cross journalists are contractually obliged to describe as "insouciant", and gave the flying Ivan Rakitic a great chance to put Spain on the brink of a humiliating early exit from Euro 2012. As with all outside-of-the-foot crosses, the implicit assertion of technical superiority – the good kind of arrogance - was central to its appeal. Not any old Tom, Dick or Ade can pull this off.
6) Peter Reid, Everton 4-1 Sunderland, Division One, 1985
The School of Science has been the home of some educated feet down the years, especially on the wings. Dave Thomas deserved a significant cut of the £10,000 that Bob Latchford received from the Daily Express for scoring 30 league goals in 1977-78, while Andy Hinchcliffe's crossing could drive grown men to strip in public. But neither of them produced anything quite as memorable as this, the defining moment of Everton's greatest side.
It's occasionally forgotten just how good that Everton team was. After losing their first two league games, they went on a run of 27 wins in 36 games – a murderous, almost unprecedented run of form in the days when the top flight was a competition in nature as well as name. The title was all but sealed in the first week of April. After a Neville Southall-inspired 2-1 win away to their closest rivals Spurs on the Wednesday, they slaughtered Sunderland 4-1 three days later. The phrase "power team" is often seen as faint praise yet it is anything but. It is the most appropriate description for West Germany in 1990, the greatest World Cup winners of the last 40 years, and for an Everton side who were surely the best in Europe in 1985.
After Sunderland made the innocent mistake of scoring a goal, Everton savaged them like rabid dogs. Soon they were level with a goal that was decisive and devastating. Peter Reid, the PFA Player of the Year that season, slipped his man and sidefooted a fierce cross to the near post, where Andy Gray – a man who never used his feet when the noggin was an option – applied a majestic diving Glasgow kiss. The goal, and the performance, became even more memorable because the game was shown on Match of the Day, a rare and powerful thing in those days. "Reid's cross – GRAY!" became a staple of the playground commentator.
It's a type of goal we hardly see at the top level any more: primal, caked in mud and reeking of testosterone. Just as Tony Soprano lamented the death of the Gary Cooper type, so the Joy of Six regularly asks its therapist: whatever happened to Mick Harford? Wingers are inverted (this isn't new – the visionary Sepp Piontek did it with Denmark in the 1980s, and Bobby Robson did it in the Italia 90 semi-final – just more common), nines are false (this isn't new either – the visionary Alex Ferguson did it in the late 1970s at Morton – just more common), boots are unchalked, strikers' noses unbroken, and kids no longer want to be Brian Talbot. The hipsters don't like crossing; nor, increasingly, do the managers. Whether it is dying or out of fashion, we don't really know. If it's the former, it will be missed. Can we not knock it in the mixer?
• With thanks to Cris Freddi, Daniel Harris, Mike Gibbons and Gary Naylor
• Rob Smyth is the co-author of Danish Dynamite and And Gazza Misses the Final
