Henry memories not tainted by Paris

AMONGST the beautiful game’s most enigmatic qualities is its capacity for turning heroes to zeroes, as a result of a single kick of the ball (or a tap of the hand!).

Gooners arriving at our ground last night will have discovered that the last of the eight massive murals has been erected. Our new stadium is now encircled by the images of 32 Arsenal legends. Yet who could’ve envisioned the irony of portraying Thierry Henry with his arm draped across the shoulder of Liam Brady?

It’d be easy for me to court public opinion by joining in the vilification of Henry. Yet even though I could be no less distraught about Ireland being cheated of a place in next summer’s tournament, if I was actually Irish born (as opposed to considering myself an adopted Irishman), I simply can’t allow this one calamitous event to taint all my memories, by turning the player responsible for some of the most wonderful football it has ever been my privilege to witness, into Satan’s spawn.

Henry’s not a bad man and it’s my firm belief he only reacted in the same, instinctive manner as the vast majority would’ve done.

I’m not trying to justify, or condone Henry’s handling of the ball. Thierry merely did what needed to be done, in order to try and win the day. Judging by the way in which he sat down on the pitch, to join a disconsolate Richard Dunne, rather than celebrating victory, I sensed he was aware of the consequences and the fact he’d just cast himself as the Emerald Isle’s pantomime villain for eternity.

You have to wonder if Titi had the power to stop time and weigh up possible World Cup qualification, against the thought of forever being labelled a cheat, would he have reacted differently? Similarly, if the shoe was on the other foot, would we be climbing on our moral high horse and clamouring for a replay?

At the end of the day, I’m sure there are plenty of Georgians who believe that Ireland are no more deserving of a replay than they were, after the bizarre handball decision in our favour back in February and if there was an injustice, it was the positively criminal way in which seeding was introduced to the play-offs at the last minute, to afford the bigger nations an advantage. The irony is that on this evidence, the French haven’t a hope of making any impact in South Africa next summer.

Moreover, the entire tournament is likely to be a whole lot less joyful for the absence of the Green Army. Yet to counter the increasing demands for technology to be introduced, to try and rid football of such dodgy decisions, I’ll always contend that it is the flawed, rub of the green factor that makes sport so intriguing and without the element of controversy, we’d be left with nothing to argue about in the pub all night.

I could perhaps abide the introduction of goal-line technology, but this is a slippery slope and ultimately I reside staunchly in the “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” camp. On the same theme of the vagaries of fate and fortune, after enduring the longest outing of the season, where our weary return from Wearside seemed almost twice the distance after such a dissatisfying display and with a miserable weekend being rounded off by Spurs’ goalfest, I’m at least grateful to Henry for giving me cause to digress.

Wenger’s uncharacteristic criticism of our own troops was perhaps a reflection on the significance of this result. I never envisaged Van Persie as quite such a crucial cog but with Arsene having nailed his flag to our 4-5-1 formation, in the absence of the Dutchman (along with the Dane, Bendtner), our strike force suddenly looks decidedly lightweight.

At the Stadium of Light it was left to Alex Song and our centre-backs to instigate all too rare driving runs at the opposition, while Sunderland’s earnest endeavours restricted Fabregas to a couple of “Hail Mary” efforts. &

After feeling as if we’ve been living out of boxes these past three years, perhaps now that we’ve finally unpacked, this “Arsenalisation” of our new stadium will inspire the fortress spirit necessary to prevail against the Blues. Although I’d be feeling a whole lot more confident, if Arsene could call upon a selection of our legends to climb down off the murals and give Essien and co. a good hiding.