Thierry Henry - La Honte!, or, Gods with feet of clay

If "L'Equipe", France's national sports daily, were impartial - or, let's face it, not French - the headline blazing out on its front page today would surely read "LA HONTE!" - "The disgrace!" - after the scandalous way in which Eire was eliminated from the World Cup Qualifiers by Les Bleus last night.
Instead, it runs with "La main de dieu" - the, oh!, so evocative (for English fans) "Hand of God" line, and that in itself speaks volumes.

It speaks volumes of everything that is wrong with football today and, indeed, of why football is the world game and, arguably, the one true religion in this godless age, when other "true" religions appear either whimsical at best or dangerous at worse to the public at large.

The whole language of worship has been transferred from pew to kop, with banners unselfconsciously proclaiming "My team - a religion"; "My manager the god". The faithful congregation gathers to sing hymns of praise every week to the deities whose icons adorn their children's bedroom walls.

These latter-day deities have so much in common with the Roman gods in so many ways; aside from the manifest falsehood they stand for that we all try to deny lest our lives appear as meaningless as they surely are, the old gods (with lower-case "g" for good reason) were all feted for representing a particular characteristic: Mars the god of war; Bacchus the god of bacchanalian roistering; and so on. In other words, they were all one-trick ponies, just like footballers.

Craig Burley, nephew, of ex-Scottish manager George, blew the gaff on the "cream" of that nation's footballers by declaring they were "too thick" to understand his uncle's management strategy. Yet, to quote the song, "Is it any wonder?" All they know is how to kick a ball about and their dedication was invariably at the expense of their education. Yet they are all - at the summit - as rich as Cresus for all that, and live in their bubble like the immortals on Mount Olympus.

So what are gods - indeed God - for? Surely the answer is: to provide lessons in how to live, ostensibly "righteously" (though a moot point when it comes to Muslim fundamentalists).

So what lessons do we learn from the gods of the football field? How to live venally, in celebration of philistinism, selfishly (even small clubs are going to the wall as all football's "largesse" is greedily hoarded by a relatively small cabal) and as filthy cheats.

Thierry Henry, and all of France this morning to give them their due, are looking and feeling sheepish about the events that transpired last night. If he'd been a cricketer (Andrew Strauss this summer springs to mind), he might have held his hand up in a show of good sportsmanship and called a foul on himself (like a snooker player would). But cricket and snooker are not the world's game. Football is. And such an admission would be unthinkable in football. So maybe, at the end of the day (as football pundits like to say), we get what we deserve.

And the legacy for Thierry Henry? They call him affectionately "Titi" in France, the name given to Tweety-Pie as it happens, the bird that "t'ought it saw a putty-cat". Well the world all saw what you did, Titi, and your name will go down in history as "Tricheur Henry", i.e.: Henry the Cheat.

Anyone for tennis?