Henry the Fraud

Forget the Thierry Henry of Arsenal days. Forget the mazy runs, the languid sprint and the delightful finishes. There is only one Henry that football will remember, and that is the cheat who popped up on Wednesday night.

He used to be revered as “Titi” the legend, but he can now remove a single “i” to know what most of the world thinks of him now.

That such a talent, such a modern superstar had to resort to such a blatant act of deceit shows where the game is today.

And it was not once, but twice. Heck, given one more touch, it could have turned biblical, with Henry thrice denying the Irish.

But this was no hand of God, or any other half-baked baguette that a drunk Frenchman might try to feed you.

Goodness knows what possessed him, but much can be read from Henry’s reaction to the furore. He admits that it was a handball, but he has casually palmed the blame to the referee.

Tell that to the man upstairs, Monsieur Henry.

This is the same Henry who slammed Wayne Rooney when the Shrek lookalike fell over Sol Campbell’s leg to snap Arsenal’s 49 game unbeaten run.

The same Henry who still says Liverpool stole the FA Cup in 2001 due to a handball.

Perhaps Henry got his Gallic balls mixed up. After all, the Boks had just been in town, and he may have fancied a game at scrumhalf in future. Right.

But, of course, his was a mistake; a minor aberration on the path to 2010. It is indicative of the win-at-all-costs mentality that has eroded the “beautiful game”.

If what Henry did was beautiful, then 2010 may yet see the game plunge even further into a murky sea of dives, deceit and dodgy excuses.

It is after all, just a game.

Try telling that to Shay Given, an honest professional who has yet to grace a major tournament. Try telling the hordes of Paddys that would have marched their merry way here. Tell them not to worry, because what Henry did in Paris is just part of a wee game.

You wonder if Henry even cares. His lack of public apology suggests not. After all, the spin-offs from making the World Cup far outweigh being labelled as a cheat.

Heck, all the greats have a label of dishonour, don’t they? Think Zinedine Zidane, the classic practitioner of the peck on the chest.

Or perhaps Cristiano Ronaldo, the master of the platform dive.

Or why not Maradona himself, who was summoned by God himself to influence the 1986 World Cup by the flick of a wrist.

Cheating has been around for a long time, but that does not make it right. The modern game is littered with conmen who thrive on cutting corners to success.

But Henry would do well to remember one thing.

What goes around comes around.

Maradona can’t even show his face in Italy without losing his earrings. Zidane’s legacy is tainted by an image darker than even his sunken eyes. Now Henry can run beautifully down the flanks for Barcelona, but he cannot run from the shadow that has been cast on his character.

Had he owned up straight away, instead of wheeling his way to celebrate with William Gallas, he may have been in line for a Nobel Prize.

But to conveniently fess up after all the furore — and still claim some sort of warped innocence — means that Henry is just another modern-day thief.

He stole Ireland’s chance for glory on Wednesday. And he also stole France’s credibility at next year’s showpiece. They used to call him King Henry at Highbury, but in one fell swoop he has reduced himself to nothing but a cheap jester.

But what goes around will come around.

No one will cry for Henry, the captain of France, if his band of stars stutters and stumbles at the first hurdle in 2010.

After what they did to get there, only a hasty execution will do.