Thierry Henry's reputation is biggest victim after Ireland v France handball

At least, that is what most people think of after a few days in the French capital.

The three days I spent in Paris left a taste in the mouth that wasn’t exactly a pain au chocolat.

Even before what the national press went on to dub ‘the hand of frog’, things weren’t going well for me.

The previous night I was crossing the road, looking forward to the obligatory beer in an Irish bar – I’m nothing if not original, although the offer of a seven euro-pint should have set alarm bells ringing – when a lone Renault Clio meandered through the crowd of Irish fans before hitting the gas.

The sight of someone bouncing off the wing did suggest to me that it might not be a bad idea to run.

Fast.

But the acceleration of the clapped-out Clio surprised me.

It’s much faster than Jeremy Clarkson would have you believe it is capable of.

As I reached what you’d think was the safety of the kerb, the car’s tyre caught my leg, leaving a rather impressive-looking injury down the back of my calf.

Onlookers – French and Irish – said the driver actually swerved at me. A slightly worrying prospect, I’m sure you’ll agree.

No one wants to think their time on this planet would be cut short by a Renault, of all things.

Reports that Thierry Henry was driving the Clio, which then va-va-voomed off into the Pigalle evening, are as yet unconfirmed.

I consoled myself with the notion that revenge would be ours inside the Stade de France the following evening.

Oh, and a few beers to numb the dull ache in my leg.

Watching the game from the press deck, I easily cut my life expectancy by about ten years, such was the stress and strain on my heart, not least when the world’s newest supervillain cropped up in the 103rd minute.

The furore over the Hand of Henry is starting to slowly subside. FIFA have unsurprisingly ruled out any chance of a replay, invoking law five, which states that the decisions of the referee on the pitch are final.

This neatly overlooks their own decision to order a replay of a match between Bahrain and Uzbekistan when a referee awarded an indirect free kick rather than a penalty.

Sepp Blatter, for the first time in living memory, is keeping his mouth shut.

Normally I’d pay good money for him to stay quiet, but his decision to lie very low at the moment reeks of someone too scared to face the music.

In fact, it adds weight to Robbie Keane’s accusation that this was the result Blatter wanted and that he was probably texting Michel Platini toasting William Gallas’ goal.

Still, it happens, and, upon leaving France on Thursday morning, the shame and embarrassment among Parisians was quite something.

Upon realising I was Irish, they all, to a man, apologised for Henry’s handball.

They honestly seemed to feel that qualification was cheapened by his actions – as most honest football fans would feel if roles were reversed.

FIFA has long been plugging its Fair Play ethos describing how there is no value in winning by cheating, which is a sentiment most supporters agree with.

We all want to think of our team as above reproach.

It’s a shame as it sullies the reputation of Henry, arguably one of the finest footballers of this generation.

In Ireland and beyond, he’ll be remembered for thwacking the ball with his left hand equally as much as he will be for strikes such as the 25-yard flickand- volley goal against Man Utd at Highbury in 2000 or gliding past defenders as if he was on rocket-powered roller skates.

Saints fans always respected him for not going to ground in the opening minute of the 2003 Cup final, as Lundekvam hauled him back, in what would easily have been a red-card offence.

For a lot of people now, Henry will be taken out of that box and put into the one marked ‘Maradona’.

Of everything that has been said and done over the last few days, that is probably the biggest shame of all.

Video Evidence

One of the repercussions of the Hand of Gaul is the debate on goal line technology once again coming to the surface.

I’ve long been an advocate for it.

The success in rugby and cricket makes a mockery of FIFA’s reasons not to do it – namely the disruption in the flow of the game.

Some people argue the Hackney Marshes scenario – what happens at the top of the game must be able to happen at Sunday League matches too.

However, I don’t see referees at Southampton Sports Centre equipped with microphones and fourth officials like they are in the Premier League.

Competitive internationals and knock-out cup competitions such as the League Cup or the play-offs would be perfect testing grounds for the technology.

And the longer Sepp Blatter and Michel Platini stand in the way of introduction of such tools, the more archaic football’s ruling body seems.