Hirshey: Thierry Henry Makes It Difficult To Keep Up Decorum

David Hirshey writes regularly about soccer for Deadspin.

Perhaps it's just a coincidence, but in the same week that John Amaechi announces that he prefers the backdoor play, LandyCakes Donovan bitch-slaps the Mexicans, David Beckham bends one in for Real Madrid AND homophobic chanting was banned in English football stadiums. That's right: The next time you start singing "Ashley Cole Likes It In Da Hole," you're liable to be be fined, evicted and beaten to a bloody pulp by Sol Campbell or whoever else takes offense at your little ditty. But that's nothing compared to the treatment Mid-Table Mikey received at Kinsale yesterday for crossing the newly instituted line of public decorum at the Deadspin Premiership Drunkathlon.

"You French c*nt!" MTM shouted above the din of the bar. That was enough to get the attention of Kinsale's Irish-born, ManU-bred bartender Caroline, who gave MTM one of her last-chance saloon looks, the kind that said, "another outburst like that, Mid-Table Mikey, and I'll cut you off at a dozen Guinnesses."

MTM was reacting to Thierry Henry getting up in the grill of Wigan keeper Chris Kirkland and taunting him with the ball he had just retrieved from the back of the Wigan net. Kirkland, for his part, had been wasting more time than the Chinese did in trying to get Jack Bauer to talk. By making sure the blades of grass were arranged asymmetrically before deigning to take his goal-kicks, he hoped to shave precious seconds off the clock that could otherwise be used for Arsenal target practice. Henry, none too happy after butchering several easy chances, had finally done something constructive, helping force an own goal by Wigan that tied the score in the 81st minute. Now it was time for Professor Henry to give the young England keeper a valuable life lesson: dither all you want, you relegation-bound twit, but don't think you can prevent the inevitable from happening.

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"Classy," MTM spat, "and you wonder why I hate Arsenal."

Of course, he's a Spurs fan, so he is hardwired to hate Arsenal and doesn't need Henry's churlish antics to stir his bile. Yet even after Rosicky had headed home the winner five minutes from the end to continue Arsenal's recent trend of phoning it in until the game is almost lost and then conjuring some piece of extraordinary skill or luck (even I thought it was a blatant penalty on Flamini) to steal it, MTM couldn't let go of Henrygate.

" I used to date girls like Henry in high school," he revealed. "They'd tease you all evening into thinking you're going to get some ass and then, boom, they'd tear out of your car and run into their house. With Arsenal, just as you think you got them where you want them, they score one, they score two. Game over."

If the mood at Kinsale was any indication, these are dark days for Premiership clubs who are being swallowed up by American carpetbaggers faster than you can say "why ain't that sumbitch using his hands, Joebob?" (I feel for my Liverpool brethren who are now owned by a guy who thought $252m on A-Rod was a good investment.) These carpetbaggers have little to play for except to see who has the best view of Fergie's ass as it descends on the throne.

ManU can be forgiven for partying like it's 1999, the year they won everything in sight and my friend Luke Dempsey named his kid after Ole Gunnar Solsjaer. The Red Devils are playing with a regal confidence and looking like no one will catch them unless Rooney kicks Ronaldo in the sack for hitting on Colleen. And if you believe Bruce Arena's best Marcello Balboa imitation, they've just been strengthened by the addition of DeMarcus Beasley.

Perhaps this explains the dyspeptic look on the Special One's face as he sat hunched down in his cashmere coat watching his Blues dismantle Boro on Saturday. With Terry and Robben back on the field and Lampard pledging his lifelong fealty to him, you'd think Mourinho would allow himself a hint of a smile. Instead, he nearly instigated a sideline dustup that would have made Wenger-Pardew look like a schoolgirl slapfest.

What got Mourinho out of his seat and into Gareth Southgate's face? A hard tackle by Chelsea savior Didier Drogba on Emmanuel Pogatetz that the Boro manager had the temerity to suggest deserved a card. Mourinho put his arm on Southgate's shoulder and told him to sit down and shut up. Southgate, whose Prince Harry sartorial style belies the tough, gritty defender he was, took a couple of menacing steps toward the Special One. I'm not much of a lip reader, but I wouldn't be surprised if three of the words he uttered were a slight variation on Mid-table Mikey's homage to Thierry Henry.