I dragged his sister into it so today I can apologise to his sister. Although I swear, before all this mess, I didn't even know Zidane had a sister. I am happy to give him the address of my house in Chieti where we can meet. I can give him my shirt and we can shake hands. FIFA can take a nice photograph and then finally everything will be over and finished with.

At the rate things are going, it won't be long before we see Zidane's sister wearing one of those Laura Quinn half-and-half jerseys.

Razzi's 'So Sorry' For Sis Slur [The Sun]
Hirshey Quickie: And Just For Kicks, Bring Your Sister [Deadspin]

And for the grand finale, check out this montage from Anil Dash, which combines a couple dozen of the headbutt gifs, set to music. Buckle up kids, this one is going to last a little longer than The Macarena, we fear.

Zidane Headbutt Outrage; New Video Evidence [The Register]
Zidane World Cup Headbutt Animation Festival [Anil Dash]

Nope.

"I am utterly disgusted by what I have heard. I praise my son for defending his family's honour. No one should be subjected to such foul insults on or off the football pitch and I don't care if it was a World Cup Final. I have nothing but contempt for Materazzi and, if what he said is true, then I want his balls on a platter.

Heavens! Though, to be fair, if someone had just called us "a terrorist whore," and every newspaper in the world were talking about it, we might be somewhat fired up too.

Bring Me The Balls Of Materazzi [UK Mirror]

"I did insult him, it's true," Materazzi said in Tuesday's Gazzetta dello Sport. "But I categorically did not call him a terrorist. I'm not cultured and I don't even know what an Islamic terrorist is."

OK, that's just awesome: The old "I'm just a caveman ... I'm confused by your 'cultured' ways" defense. That's in the face of the always-reliable lip-reading experts, who claim Materazzi said Zidane was "the son of a terrorist whore," which is pretty insulting even before you note that Zidane's mother is very ill.

Meanwhile, Materazzi, of course, has his own history of on-field violence.

To sum all this up, though, we rely on the subtle, restrained words of French "intellectual" Bernard Henri-Levy in today's Wall Street Journal: Here is a man of providence, a savior, who was sought out, like Achilles in his tent of grudge and rage, because he was believed to be the only one who could avert his countrymen's fated decline. Better yet, he's a super-Achilles who — unlike Homer's — did not wait for an Agamemnon to come begging him to re-enlist ... no nasty remark will ever tell us why the planetary icon that Zinedine Zidane had become, a man more admired than the Pope, the Dalai Lama and Nelson Mandela put together, a demigod, a chosen one, this great priest-by-consensus of the new religion and the new empire in the making, chose to explode right there.

Uh, sure, dude.

Materazzi Admits Insulting Zidane [ESPN]
"Son Of A Terrorist Whore" [The Sun]
Zidane [WSJ.com]

(UPDATE: Inevitably, the Daily Show has chimed in.)

Anyway, we had a classic Dr. Z moment yesterday, when he was properly piqued enough to fired off a rant about Zinedine Zidane. His argument was that Zidane was justified in the head-butt, not because he was the victim of a racist taunt or inappropriate matron-oriented remarks ... but simply because he plays soccer.

The problem is he doesn't hit the canvas as the rest of those prima donnas do. So the ref must figure nothing is happening. ... Maybe Zidane was tired of all this, of this travesty, which rewards all the things that we were once taught were cowardly, but can be used to great advantage in this game.

See what we mean? Damn kids ... get off my lawn! Dr. Z is the best.

Enough Is Enough [SI.com]

In case you haven't exhausted your Zinedine Zidane animated GIF quotient for the day, here's a compendium of some of our favorite ones; the Butterfinger one is still the best. And if you like your moving online stuff to be interactive, here's a game that allows you to collect Zidane red cards. Oh, and people are even coming up with conspiracy theories.

But remember, the World Cup is not about headbutts and angry Frenchmen; it's about crazy fans. After the jump, here are some randomly collected Italy fans celebrating in the notorious Italian enclaves of Williamsburg, Brooklyn and Hartford, Conn., sent in by readers. If the Cardinals win the World Series this year, we're totally gonna be the lady in the fourth photo.

Except this was bigger — a billion people, including Bill Clinton, were watching — and worse.

What odds do you think Ladbrokes was giving on "Minute that Zidane loses his mind, head butts an opponent, gets sent off and goes from savior of his country to an old man with a Vesuvian fuse?" Or to put it another way, what an ironic end to an iconic career!

There are really only two ways to interpret the petit mal that overcame Zizou in the 110th minute:

1) Matterazzi said something less than complimentary about his mother's moral rectitude.
2) Zidane had a sudden brain aneurysm and thought by butting his head into Matterazzi's chest, he could self-correct it.

And yet, as shocking and abject as Zizou's fall from grace is, it should not take away from Italy's coronation. Not only did they win the World Cup, they won it under conditions that would certainly have broken players of lesser resolve than Cannavarro, Gattuso and Buffon. Into each game, the Azzurri carried the taint of the match-fixing scandal, the sadness of their former teammate Pesotto's suicide attempt and the uncertainty of their own futures in Italian soccer. At times they whined and flopped and dove under the strain, but they never buckled. As Grosso's penalty kick bulged the net, his scream of redemption could be heard throughout the courthouses of Italy. We are not criminals, it seemed to say, we are champions. Equally eloquent, Gattuso bared his ass to the world as if to invite all of those Italy-bashers to pucker up.

And yet, for all their triumphant celebrations, Italy could just as easily been the ones crying in their Chianti — and not because of Zidane's meltdown either . I mean, Mon Dieu, what the %$#* was French coach Raymond Domanech thinking when Les Bleus had Italy down, leg weary and out of ideas, deep into the second half ... didn't go for the knockout blow. The part-time actor has always been a loopy presence in this World Cup, with his reliance on astrology in picking his players and his comical sideline pantomines every time a call went against his team, but yesterday his timidity cost the French dearly. What was there to lose by bringing on Trezeguet to partner Henry up top and telling the relentless Ribery and the tricky Malouda to push the pedal on the flanks and try to score a killing goal? Italy was there for the taking, but Domenech must have been waiting for the moon to enter the Seventh House.

Instead, he witnessed the spontaneous combustion of Saint Zizou. After his outrageous penalty chip caromed fortuitously off the crossbar to give France a 1-0 lead six minutes in, Zidane was never the dominant, inspirational force he was in victories over Spain and Brazil, not least because Gattuso was attached to him like a lamprey eel. But it was a shoulder-rattling tackle from the peerless Cannavaro in the 80th minute that seemed to have left him unnerved, with a scowl of pain permanently affixed to his face.

Still, 14 minutes into extra-time, he found himself where he was eight years ago — leaping in the box to send a laser header goalward, just like the two he scored to beat Brazil in the 2002 final. How heartwarming it would have been for Zidane's career to have ended at that point, with the ball nestled in the back of the net and another World Cup trophy scant minutes away. Only this time, his old Juventus teammate Buffon was there to frustrate him, vaulting backward and somehow thrusting out his right hand to tip the ball over the crossbar. Zidane opened his mouth and let out a Munchian scream of anguish and horror, as if realizing, that for all his magical gifts, he was just another mortal 34-year-old victim of time and space.

Six minutes later, he took one more header, launching his powerful noggin into Mazzeratti's chest, and with that insane act, he wrote what may well be the first line of his soccer obituary.

Italy didn't win the World Cup because of Zidane's moment of madness — yes, he would have been among France's penalty takers in the shootout, but who's to say Trezequet won't have clanged one off the crossbar anyway? — but perhaps it fortified them. There they were, a team that lived in dread of penalty kicks, having been eliminated from three World Cups because of them, knowing that the great Zidane could no longer hurt them.

Who would have divined that Italy would have been perfect from the spot (you can come home now, Roberto Baggio), but then this World Cup has been nothing if not unpredictable. Anyone remember Brazil with its magical quartet of Ronaldinho, Ronaldo, Kaka and Adriano, who were a lock to win their sixth trophy? Or Argentina with Mesi and Crespo and Tevez and the 24-pass extravaganza that surely made them unbeatable? Or England, with its glittering midfield tandem of Lampard and Gerrard, not to mention pit-bull savior Wayne Rooney? Or the U.S., with its pre-tournament swagger and quixotic dreams of finally showing the soccer world why it should take us seriously?

All gone, long before yesterday's wild denouement. It was Italy, at the end, that was still standing, and it is Italy who deserves our praise for saying a defiant ciao to all its ghosts. At the same, though, we bid a sad adieu to one of the great players of the last 20 years. With any luck, Zidane may next be seen signing Red Bulls jerseys at the Secaucus mall.

David Hirshey will take some time off to recover from the World Cup, but we hope to have him back for the start of the Premiership season. Go you Gunners!

So everyone's wondering: What exactly did set him off? A racist comment? A nipple tweak? It's not like Marco Materazzi, the head-buttee, doesn't have a history of dirty play himself.

Of course, in a World Cup final, in his final game, it would seem inexcusable, particularly when it might have cost him the pivotal penalty kick (though we think that's somewhat overstating it). But we're not going to lie to you: Even though it could have irrefutably damaged his team, even though it was over-the-top and violent and kind of insane ... we think it's one of the coolest things we've ever seen in a soccer match. We know it's wrong to say that. But it's true.

Why? [Hindu Times]
Head Hits Man In Chest [Mutoni's Musings]

(By the way, thanks to commenter BlogPirates for that image.)

(UPDATE: Here's a theory on what might have set him off.)

(SECOND UPDATE: The Daily Mail is reporting it was indeed a racist comment.)

(THIRD UPDATE: A French newspaper reports Zidane's brother says he must have been called a terrorist or "something serious" for him to make the move. Warning: The link is in French, so we're just kind of guessing that's what it says.)

That gave them a 1-0 lead, and after that, the French defense held strong, which isn't something you get a chance to say every day. The Brazilians forced the action late, coming pretty close to getting the equalizer, but the fact that they couldn't find that sort of urgency at any previous point finally caught up with them. The defending champions are gone, and soon, all the random photographs of phenomenal Brazilian ass will be going with them.

So we've got an all-European Final Four, including France, Germany, Portugal and Italy. We'll start previewing the semifinals tomorrow, so if you've got any pithy (I learned a new word from David Stern) comments on either of the upcoming matches, send them to mjd@deadspin.com, and we'll see if we can't put together a reader-inspired preliminary preview tomorrow.

Brazil 0-1 France [BBC Sport]