Time to get real on national outpouring

AFTER Princess Diana died there was a lot of... well, apart from the heart-stopping grief felt by people who had come no closer to the lady than rubbing the front of a celebrity magazine, there was a lot of... guff spewed by people who should have known better.

Clive James, for whom we on the sportsdesk have a lot of time, was a case in point with a meandering, mawkish mess about the lady in question, the people’s princess.

Clive, usually the sharpest man in the room, was clearly afflicted here by one of the most dangerous conditions in modern life: The Need To Speak.

The necessity to have a sharply defined position on a given subject – and an unrelenting passion to share that position at the drop of a hat – respects no boundaries, and Thierry Henry’s handball is already a classic example.

In the space of 24 hours the Frenchman’s foul has passed from what it is – some sharp practice in a sporting event which has denied Ireland a place in the World Cup – to whatever people want it to be, which is the dangerous part of the equation.

Take your pick: the foul/goal is the final nail in the coffin of sportsmanship generally; the ultimate expression of cynicism in professional sport; the embodiment of French disdain; the symbolic slap in the face for people yearning for economic freedom, and the last indignity for a nation devoid of hope.

Why stop there? Doesn’t the goal sum up our distance from the European project? Can’t it be read as the Continent slapping us for knocking the Lisbon Treaty back?

Why stop there, in fact? Can’t the handball be interpreted as the gods flicking their wrists to punish us for our ecological crimes and wanton destruction of the bounties of the earth?

Henry’s handball: the ultimate revenge of Gaia. Get as pretentious as you like. The water’s quite warm as we splash around with that multifaceted conversation piece, the people’s handball.

Get real, folks, and get a little queasy about the fact that adopting a position on Henry’s handball last Wednesday night was a burden shouldered all too willingly. By everybody.

Politicians, referees, golfers... This columnist is afraid to head away down to the zoo in Fota in case the buffalo or the howler monkeys start chipping in about the linesman and the angle and what FIFA wanted out of the play-offs and whatever you’re having yourself.

All the loudly and lengthily argued positions in the world won’t change the situation, which is as follows: wailing for a replay won’t do because Ireland conceded the initiative fatally weeks ago.

Agreeing to FIFA’s change-of-mind to seed the play-offs – now that was a shameful decision – was an error; that was the time to throw the toys out of the pram.

FIFA need only point to the chaos that unlimited replays would cause to dismiss the possibility of another night out.

Squawking about Henry as a role model with obligations to spectators won’t do either, and we can explain why quite quickly.

In 2006 the bould Thierry said he had stayed with Arsenal “for love”, adding: “It’s about emotion, respect, loyalty – real love.”

Two years later the Arsenal club accounts showed that it took £10 million to keep Real Love Henry – now a Barcelona player – in London, £5 million (€5.5m) in wages and a once-off £5m (€5.5m) payment.

Those are the facts. Facebook sites and threatened boycotts against Gilette products, complaints to FIFA and – shudder any time you like – ‘questions in the House’ are a nice diversion in the run-up to Christmas, but that’s all they are.

That’s my position, anyway. And I’m sticking to it ‘til I find a better one.

contact: [e-mail]; Twitter: MikeMoynihanEx