Stan Collymore was in the wrong place at the right time in June. While England were preparing to take on the world at France '98, he was in a bar in Paris proving he, too, could punch his weight.

Sadly the victim of his outburst was his girlfriend Ulrika Jonsson. When she refused to leave the Auld Alliance pub, Collymore hit out. Within seconds their alliance was history.

That, Collymore told his Aston Villa manager John Gregory, was the lowest point of his life. Now he has chosen to make his views on the incident public for the first time.

"I am desperately sorry for what happened with Ulrika," he says. "It was blown out of all proportion but it happened and I deeply regret it. There was no justification to it and afterwards I felt I was having to be an apologist to anyone and everyone. Now I have made my apologies and made peace with the two people who matter: Ulrika and myself.

"It was a difficult summer for both of us, especially her, and I let myself down. Now we are friends again. We keep in touch and the very least we will be in future is very good friends. We get on extremely well."

So, crucially, do Collymore and Gregory, who refers endearingly to his 6ft 2in striker as "Stanley Victor". If Gregory's arrival eight months ago has breathed new life into Villa, it also looks to have resuscitated the career of one of the game's great enigmas.

A hat-trick against Stromsgodset in the UEFA Cup is hardly cause to mention Collymore and Three Lions in the same breath. But his hard-working performances are gradually erasing memories of a first season at Villa Park he would rather forget.

"Let us say it was a learning curve," he says. "I missed pre-season training through injury, we got off to the worst start in the club's history and were always playing catch-up. I know I did not play well and 20 minutes into a game I knew I could not do it, I was knackered."

Matters got steadily worse. His under-achievement drew vitriolic abuse from the terraces, culminating in suggestions that he was to blame for the resignation of Brian Little in February. If that was unfair, Collymore has certainly benefited from the departure of the man who made him Villa's record signing at £7 million from Liverpool.

"Brian seemed to want to save players but training under John is at full pelt," he says. "The gaffer told me I wasn't doing myself justice and needed to get fitter and sharper. I know he has publicly criticised me but many things he says are as a form of motivation. People respect his honesty.

"All he asked of me was to get fit and play well. He has just come in and done the business. The gaffer has the training ideas but our coach Steve Harrison binds it all together. He is the character who lightens everything up."

With Villa top of the Premiership and progressing smoothly in Europe, things have not needed much lightening. But Gregory refuses to believe he has discovered how to rid Collymore of his infuriating inconsistency.

"Stan made certain promises to me at the start of the season which he's kept," he says. "He said he'd work his cobblers off and make sure I wouldn't have to replace him because he'd be first choice.

"But he's always seemed to fall at the next hurdle. Whenever there's an obstacle in front of him he hasn't been able to get over it. He's maybe tried to pretend it isn't there."

If the gossip is to be believed, Collymore's colleagues have often wished he was not there. The 27-year-old has been dubbed arrogant, aloof and a loner, devoid of dressing-room allies. But he paints a different picture.

"I have lots of friends and get on with 99 per cent of the guys at Villa, so it is all a misconception," he says. "The loner thing came from my days at Forest when I chose to continue living in Cannock and did not mix in Nottingham. I have lots of mates at Villa; we all get on well.

"But deep down I am just a normal bloke who loves to get on with people. I am not perfect, I have made mistakes. But as Terry Venables once said: `It is better to regret the things you have done than the things you haven't."

It was Venables who gave Collymore two of his three England caps, a figure the striker insists would have been at least doubled but for a split-second decision he had no control over on his debut against Japan at Wembley.

"Alan Shearer beat a defender and, if he had cut the ball back, I would have tapped it in," he recalls. "Alan was going through a bit of a lean spell and wanted to score. He chose to shoot but missed. If I had scored that goal I am sure I would have been given a run of another five or six games. I know my form of last season did not warrant a call-up but I haven't given up hope."

Not that Collymore hankers after the superstar status of international football. He simply wants to be recognised as an ordinary person, something reflected in his choice of transport.

Alongside the BMWs, Mercs and Jaguars at Villa's training ground stands his Range Rover. He says: "I drive it because it is practical. I would not think of squashing myself into a yellow Ferrari just to make a statement."

Brash he certainly is not. In fact, Collymore readily admits to having a shy side, explaining: "I went to buy a guitar in a Birmingham shop. When the guy asked if it was for me, I said it was for a mate. I felt too shy and embarrassed to admit it was for me. I love music and have a couple of thousand CDs. Everything from traditional jazz to Van Morrison, Bob Dylan and the latest funk."

So it should come as no surprise to learn that, given a few days off work, Collymore invariably shuns the bright lights for a pine lodge on the banks of Loch Lomond.

"The scenery is amazing, a great place to chill out," he says. "One day I'll learn to play the guitar, sit on the lodge balcony overlooking the loch and strum out a Bob Dylan number. I can't think of anything better."