Good Old British Phlegm

We have something of a striking crisis and spitting is the key component. Blue Review looks at why spitting causes such a furore in a sport which turns a blind eye to so many other transgressions.

Hey ho - no sooner does Pablo discover the dark art of scoring on away grounds; and in such grim and unforbidding places as Barnsley and Scunthorpe no less - then he is promptly sent off. Losing an in-form striker at such a critical time of the season is either a crisis, or a heaven-set opportunity for Rhodes or Kuqi, depending on your point of view. But, alas our striking senor is alleged to have spat on an opponent, which is a whole new ball game and guaranteed to get the hysterical and the hypocritical foaming at the mouth.

Even Jim Magilton didn't hesitate to jump straight on this particular bandwagon. If Pablo was guilty, there would apparently be stern words indeed. There is no place for such behaviour in football apparently. In the surrealistic world of football there are a number of 'crimes' which are frowned upon, with face-bound phlegm globules being pretty near the top of the pile.

Call me anti-social, but I have never shared this gobbophobic point of view - and the mass hysteria it generates never fails to bemuse me. Football, after all is a sport where all the protagonists are totally addicted to spitting. Every close up of any player on television is invariably greeted with an airborne jet of spittle. If you are lucky (or unlucky, depending on your point of view) you can even rejoice in players clearing their nostrils as well as their mouths in glorious uncouth and glutinous detail.

So in a sport where spitting is obviously mandatory at every opportunity, why is it such a sin to direct your gob full of saliva into the face of an opponent? It's not exactly violent, or even painful. In many ways it is a highly appropriate gesture of contempt. And in the great scheme of things, being hit by saliva is not exactly a career-threatening transgression after all. If you were given the choice between having your leg virtually amputated below the knee without anaesthetic by a lumbering Birmingham defender, or worse still, Ashley Cole, or receive a face-full of pre-digestive fluids from a mild-mannered Spaniard, which would you chose?

This phobia against saliva is even more bizarre when taken in the context of a sport where vile and constant, cynical cheating is endemic. From primary school age onwards, players are urged to cheat at every opportunity. That cheating may initially take subtle forms, disputing every free kick, picking up the ball when you have kicked it out and taking a throw in etc etc. In the professional game, there is so much blatant cheating going on, it sometimes appears that referees have given up refereeing - which probably explains why players go bezerk if referees have the temerity to blow their whistle.

So it is that at every free kick and corner, you see defenders virtually rugby-tacking their opponents, every single time. Pushing and shirt-holding is endemic, as is pretending it wasn't you who put the ball out of play. It even appears patently unmasculine to not steal ten yards at throw ins. And of course, referees are abused and treated with absolute contempt at will by pampered morons who have no respect for authority in any way shape or form.

And then there is diving. Ahh, yes diving. Another heinous crime that has even apparently sane managers going apoplectic with righteous indignation when they suffer at the hands of this form of cheating that has latterly been labelled 'simulation'.

It is of course only slippery foreigners who dive - like the loathsome Ronaldo or Robert Pires, gifted protagonists of this darkest of dark arts. It was Pires who memorably tripped himself up in such sublime style for a match-winning penalty that you just knew he had to practice it as part of the training routine. Except Wenger wasn't quite so righteously smug a year or two later when Rooney collapsed in less artful, but equally well-practised style to end Arsenal's season-plus unbeaten run a few years back.

I could go on. Michael Owen has made diving an art form - yet we love it, particularly when he does it to win penalties against Argentina. Diving is far from new - if anything, it's the cynical cheating Brits that have shown the slippery foreigners how to dive. Remember Francis Lee anybody? Or (ahem) Eric Gates?

So diving is a bit iffy, especially if done by foreigners - but holding is perfectly OK. As is pushing and shoving. In punditry parlance, that is six of one and half a dozen of the other. Even vicious, pre-meditated violence is perfectly acceptable. Yes, if a leg or two does get broken it is unfortunate - but hey it's a contact sport Brian. Deliberately injuring an opponent, inflicting a career or life threatening injury has somehow always seemed quite manly - and is practised not by cheats, but by 'hard men'.

A well-placed elbow still inflicts serious injury - but we now know ramming your elbow into somebody's face is essential for getting height. In a year or two, the psychotic leg-breaking lunge will also presumably be excused on the basis that it is necessary to 'get momentum' or some such rubbish.

So maybe Pablo shouldn't worry. Even if he did gob in somebody's face, maybe it is an essential pre-requisite to making your point? I'm sure all it takes to make spitting an acceptable part of the game is to get a well known practitioner of gobbing to say how essential it is, as an insightful piece of punditry. If Chelsea snaffle Frank Rijkaard as their manager - that could even be as soon as next year.