The former Arsenal talisman, for me, is unquestionably the best player of his generation. No other player in world football has been as consistently phenomenal, for such a prolonged period, as Thierry Henry. His spells in France, England and Spain have been laden with domestic honours as well as European success; Paris' prodigal son has won the vast majority of competitions he has entered. League titles, domestics cups and european prizes have all been acquired. His list of personal awards, in England particularly, is simply incredible. PFA Player, Football Writers Player, The Top Goalscorer; each year he has either won or been runner-up, pro-forma. Although I believe the Frenchman is yet to replicate his best club form for his country, one World Cup, one European Championship and one Confederations cup, isn't a bad international honours list. Throw in the fact that he is his country's all time record goal scorer and on paper it reads as one of the most impressive international legacies ever sewn. But forget the stats for a moment and think of the memories. Think of his impossible volley against Manchester United with his back to goal; his audacious flick, spin and smash at the expense of Christian Daily at Upton Park; think of the innumerable times he has opened up his body and guided it into the far corner. His quality is unparalleled, on our shores for certain.
Over the years Thierry has become as renown for the way he does things, as for his many achievements in their own right. His debonair and grace, on and off the football pitch, has seen him ascend as one of the great sporting personalities. His elegance and sophistication so uncommon in the modern day footballer, has helped him cement his reputation as one of the most suave and sought after public figures of the twenty-first century. Commercial organisations quite literally clammer for him to promote their products and its easy to see why.
And yet although synonymous with style, Henry also possesses oodles of substance. His alignment with anti-racism campaigns, his association with various charities such as the Cystic Fibrosis Trust, and his work with UNICEF, testify that his notoriety goes well beyond fancy foot skills and cheeky smiles. He has always been the good guy of football, the true gentleman in the ranks. And then came this; the horror show that unfolded at the Stade De France just over two weeks ago.
Players, managers, commentators; they have all came out in defence of the virtuous one, passing it off as a mere instinctive reaction in a tremendous circumstance. Some have commented that these things can, do and always have happened in football, and can be excused. Others have gone even further to suggest that this sort of incident is now part of the modern game, that players can, and must do, what is within their powers in order to win a game. What complete and utter garbage. Hollow words from comrades intending to preserve a man's especially high regard. I do not recall such a spirited defence of Diego Maradonna after his ball handling exploits? What exactly is the difference here?
The truth is that Thierry Henry's behaviour was completely deplorable. Utterly terrible. It can only be described as a deliberate act of cheating, and the consequences couldn't be much higher for the poor folk of the Emerald Isle. Those who have claimed it as a natural, spontaneous manoeuvre are kidding themselves. The Barcelona man could have been forgiven, possibly, if the ball had bounced off the surface and struck his arm, and immediately been squared across goal for William Gallas to turn into Given's net. However this is not how it occurred. After the initial handball, Henry quite concisely and calculatedly cupped the ball with the palm of his hand, conveniently into range for an easy assist. There was no accident about it; it was a wholly intentional, second handball. The Irish where understandably furious, hounding the referee in a futile attempt to revoke the goal. And what was the great man doing at this time? Celebrating enthusiastically, in a demeanour that could only have served to rub salt in the already deep, lacerated wounds of the Irish.
What is most interesting for me, is that the defining moment could have been so different. It may be asking too much to expect a player to admit guilt after such an episode, considering the astronomical importance of the impending goal in this case. However we have seen magnificent moments of sportsmanship in the past. Robbie Fowler for instance, declining a penalty when awarded to him at Highbury (of all places), seeming to admit that he had dived when challenged by david Seaman. Similarly Paulo Di Canio, who caught the ball in front of his home fans, shunning a definite goal scoring opportunity because the opposing goal keeper was down injured. Such virtuousness is not out of the question. Call it a long shot but who, if anyone, would you expect a moment of such monumental honesty from? If you had to cherry pick anyone in world football to put in that situation, in order to get the right and just outcome, who would it be? My guess is that your answer would not be the same now as it would have been before the 125th minute of that fateful match.
The football community seems to have reached a consensus that Henry is off the hook for his role in this one, but I'm afraid I, as I imagine many others, will not be able to forget this debacle so readily. Okay, so Ireland may not have gone on to win the game but the fact is they where crudely denied the chance to do so. His hashed, spurious rhetoric since the goal has smacked of a shamed and compromised man. He seems conscious of the fact that he has caused irreparable damage to his image. Thierry Henry stands today a man who has incredulously contradicted his seemingly inherent principles as a man, and as a footballer. You may interpret this statement as an overreaction but such is the pedestal that I put him on. He will forever remain as one of my favourite footballers of all time but this affair will remain as a permanent stain on his other wise immaculate legacy; an acute, significant one at that.
No comments:
Post a Comment