When all the dust has settled on Le Handball debate, what will we have learned from this debacle? Well, first and foremost it’s been confirmed that FIFA is unwilling to see their rules as an organic set of conventions.

Henry may have apologized but Ireland will not be going to the World Cup finals.

The decision not to replay the France/Ireland play-off was, of course, widely anticipated, as FIFA is a bureaucratic body renowned for following the letter of its laws even if that seemingly goes against their ethos of 'fair play.'

To order a re-match would have been a watershed moment in world football, and FIFA does not willingly change the status quo.

A human reaction to the public clamor for a replay would have been totally out of character, and I doubt there’s one person in football who expected the sport’s governing body to right the injustice that so many around the world witnessed.

So, what else have we learned? Well, we now know that Thierry Henry, for all his talents, is not the icon he was considered when he played for Arsenal.

Not because he committed the handball, but because he celebrated the goal by Gallas so fervently without a hint of guilt, even though he knew it wasn’t legitimate.

To admit to handling the ball after the fact and then absolve himself of blame by putting the responsibility on the ref, smacks of a man without honor.

And what of the ref? Well, surprisingly I can sympathize with Martin Hansson and his assistants.

In the dying moments of a tense battle they blew the vital call. But I’m not a conspiracy theorist, so I genuinely believe it was an honest error. Granted, as the Swedish press wrote, it’s probably “the worst refereeing mistake in 20 years”, but I feel sure he didn’t make it with bad intention.

However, what his howler demonstrates once and for all is that football needs a safety net, or possibly two.

The experiment with 5 officials at the Under-17 World Cup and in the Europa League must surely be adopted throughout the game. Everything else in football is decided by large committees, why not the thing that matters most - what happens on the pitch.

I also think the use of instant video replays is now essential. Other sports, like rugby, tennis, and American football utilize technology. FIFA and every other governing body in the game has embraced television for financial gain, so why not use the cameras to help preserve the sport’s integrity?

Of course, all this will not put Ireland on the plane to South Africa next summer. But like the Bosman incident that revolutionized football transfers in the 1990’s, some good could result from the bad. I wonder if FIFA will change?

To spit or not to spit. That is the question in the Premier League right now, where the appearance of swine flu among the players and staff of Blackburn, Manchester City, and Bolton, and the potential for spreading the H1N1 virus by gobbing on the pitch during games has Britain’s Health Protection agency salivating with rage.

Masked Paris Saint-Germain players head home after an inter-squad outbreak of swine flu causes their game with Marseille to be postponed.

“Spitting is disgusting at all times.” said an HPA spokesman. “Footballers, like the rest of us, wouldn't spit indoors so they shouldn't do it on the football pitch."

A keen observation indeed. I can’t remember the last time I hawked up on the carpet. But then the most physical activity I resort to in the living room is reaching for the nachos while I’m watching a game, so the demand to expectorate (the technical term for spitting), is not really there.

When I played the game I spat though. We all did. It was the natural reaction to a lung-busting surge up the wing, a 40-yard track back for a last ditch tackle or a dodgy decision by the ref (you could spit in dissent in my heyday without getting a yellow card because yellow cards hadn’t been invented). Better out than in, that was the motto back then, and we thought no more of spreading disease via a loogey than we did of Chelsea winning the league title - it just wasn’t going to happen.

But, of course, times have changed. Chelsea now have a couple of Premiership crowns in the cabinet, and the fluid nature of the game is giving the medics cause for concern. Never mind that managers such as Mark Hughes of Manchester City have dismissed the threat posed to footballers from the virus as trivial due to their heightened level of fitness. No matter that Chelsea boss Carlo Ancellotti appears to believe that hot milk and red wine are an adequate substitute for the H1N1 vaccine. The fact remains that those with even greater medical knowledge than Sparky and the Italian bon vivant are adamant - phlegm kills, or at least can make you very sick.

Of course, that’s no laughing matter. So what is the EPL going to do about it? Well, they can discourage spitting, but they can’t really make it an offence because it’s so ubiquitous in football that you’d end up with 22 yellow and red cards every game ... or maybe they ought to introduce a green card!

They could postpone matches involving clubs where swine flu has been diagnosed, but they’ve already said they won’t do that (a measure derided as "irresponsible" by Blackburn boss Sam Allardyce.)

They could make players wear masks, (which sounded silly until I saw Mario Balotelli of Inter Milan playing with what looked like a scarf round his neck, at which point I realized anything goes.)

In fact, I’m sure greater minds than mine could come up with a myriad of measures to reduce the risks. But, in the end, a lot of it will surely come down to luck. Because, despite its air of invincibility, football is as powerless as the rest of us to halt the spread of the virus. So I ask you - will a few gobs of spit make a significant difference?

The fact that Manchester United boss, Alex Ferguson is being brought to book over his comments on Premier League referee, Alan Wiley, will be seen as justice by many in England.

Ferguson is facing a touchline ban after his comments about Alan Wiley.

Fergie, for all his great qualities as a coach, is a serial baiter of officials and may be due his come-uppance.

However, while I agree that launching a public attack on a referee’s fitness was probably not the way to go, I can’t help but baulk at the notion that referees are untouchable.

Look at the facts, players, managers, coaches, chairman, directors, FIFA, UEFA, and every domestic governing body in the game are all subject to public scrutiny and questioning by the media every day of the week.

What’s more, the criticism is often personal, sometimes descends into ridicule, and, occasionally smacks of a witch hunt. Yet these people are expected to take it all with a pinch of salt.

But criticize a referee, and it’s a whole different ball game. Now don’t get me wrong. I think the match officials have an incredibly tough job, and the “Respect Campaign” introduced last year was a good and necessary thing in order to stop ref’s being bullied by players and managers.

But while I think a referee’s authority should not be undermined, I don’t think they should be considered infallible.

Almost every game you see contains mistakes, and there should be some legitimate system by which the teams involved can voice their criticism, because even one wrong decision can cost a club dearly in terms of cash and lost trophies.

Furthermore, when a referee has a calamitous game or is consistently bad, the public response of the various refereeing bodies often appears to be a shrug of the shoulders. Why? There are referees associations. There are assessors at every match. If questions are being asked about an individual’s performance and if punishments are being meted-out, why can’t we know about them?

Accountability and transparency is expected in all other areas of football, so why not in the referees fraternity? After all, as Fergie might argue, - respect should work both ways.

So, nice guys can finish first after all. Jenson Button’s rise to the top of the pile in Formula One having provided the sport with its second straight British world champion and 10th British winner over all.

Jenson Button's F1 world title has proved that nice guys can come first in competitive sport.

And it couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy, except perhaps his Brawn GP team-mate Rubens Barrichello who, despite the disappointment of failing to win his debut world championship, was fulsome in his praise of his younger colleague and even loaned Button his private jet so that he could stay longer in Brazil to celebrate. What a guy!

But then it’s been obvious for most of the season that there is no “side” to either of the Brawn drivers.

Both are wholehearted competitors. Both dealt graciously with being number-two at previous teams –Button at Williams, Benetton, Renault, and BAR; and Barrichello at Ferrari; and both have conducted themselves without apparent ego or tantrums throughout this scandal-ridden season in which they've been treated by Brawn as equals.

As a result, I doubt there’s anyone out there who begrudges Button the ultimate success. Not even those who believe that he’d not have won the title if it hadn’t been for the rear-diffuser advantage the Brawn’s enjoyed at the start of the season that helped him win six of the first seven races. He didn't make the rules after all.

No, Button is cynic-proof. A genuine “Aw shucks” type champion that you just have to like.

Branded as an unfocussed underachiever after he failed to justify the hype that greeted his early days in the sport, he’s plugged away, without taking himself too seriously, and can now legitimately ask his critics, “How do you like me now?”

But, to my knowledge, he hasn't done that, preferring instead to modestly enjoy the applause, notably from a British public that's always loved his boyish charm, while re-committing himself Brawn GP, should they want him, despite the prospect of bigger and better offers.

Like I said at the beginning, this is a genuinely nice guy. And while nice isn't "sexy", it may be just what this troubled sport needs to get it back on the right track.

With the line-up for the World Cup nearly complete, the discussion has begun among fans and media in the qualified nations as to who should go to the finals and who should miss out.

David Beckham still has a major role to play in England's bid to win the 2010 World Cup.

Top of that debating list are two superstars whose careers have transcended the game itself - Diego Maradona and David Beckham.

Let’s discuss Diego first. Should he lead Argentina in 2010 as manager, or will his lack of tactical nous be a liability to the Albicelestes in South Africa? Well, in my view, the answers are yes and yes.

When you hire Diego Maradona as manager, you get a football genius with a maverick personality who will do things his way or not at all.

No matter that he’s got no coaching pedigree or credentials, the Argentine Football Association decided that the risk was worth taking, so he got the job.

What followed in the qualifiers was what you’d expect from Diego, a rollercoaster ride that ultimately ended in success, as befits a rebel who consistently comes up smelling of roses.

You see, that’s the thing with Maradona, nothing he’s ever done has been conventional, yet he’s still among the most decorated and revered figures in football.

Look at the way he was as a player. A consummate ball hog who won games and titles, including the 1986 World Cup, virtually on his own!

Nobody would or could coach someone to play like that, because next to nobody would have the talent to make it work. Yet Diego did.

His self-confidence has taken him far. Add to that his passion and god-like charisma, and you can see why the Argentine FA is happy to take a punt despite the obvious risks of failure.

World Cups are not always won by the best team, but by the team with most flair, and Diego’s death-or-glory methods might at least give Argentina a shot.

While you expect the unexpected with Maradona, the reverse is true of David Beckham.

Here is Becks in a nutshell: a world-class crosser of the ball and dead-ball genius; a team player willing to play a defined role to orders; a patriotic whole-hearted competitor; a thoroughbred who’s now a bit of a carthorse; and a talismanic figure whose mere presence in the squad can inspire others to perform.

And, for me, the latter is the crux of the matter, and the main reason why Fabio Capello should put him on the plane to South Africa.

The World Cup is a long haul, and when a team needs lifting before, during or after a game, a seasoned veteran like 34-year-old Beckham can be invaluable.

That’s why Marcelo Lippi is considering 34-year-old Francesco Totti’s offer to return to international football for Italy’s World Cup challenge, why Lothar Matthaus played for Germany in 1998 aged 37, why Roger Milla played for Cameroon in 1990 and ’94 aged 38 and 42 respectively, and why Maradona himself was in the Argentine squad in ’94 aged 33, despite questionable fitness.

You take 23 players to a World Cup, so you can afford the luxury of a secret or not-so-secret weapon. And I believe Beckham should be England’s.

The big bosses at FIFA and UEFA must have been spinning in their leather chairs when they got the news that the English Premier League has yet another foreign owner.

Carson Yeung, chairman of Grandtop International Holdings Limited and now the new owner of Birmingham City FC.

Messrs. Blatter and Platini, along with FIFA Vice-President, Jack Warner, who wants to place a financial cap on EPL teams, have been huge critics of the overseas impact on the Premier League, which is now like the United Nations on and off the field.

Carson Yeung’s takeover of Birmingham City football club means half of the EPL’s 20 teams are now foreign owned. And, with five of the managers hailing from overseas, and an average of 13 foreign players in each first team squad, the league is statistically no longer English. My question is – so what?

FIFA’s boast is that football is a global game with a universal language, so is it not desirable that the world’s blue riband league is blind to nationality?

Surely, no-one watching a football match in any country considers the origins of the players and coaches? They are just concerned about the result.

For example, my team, Arsenal, is predominantly non English, but when I watch the Gunners all I see is the red and white of their shirts, not the black, blue, maroon, green, and embossed gold of the players' passports. It is irrelevant!

Similarly, as long as the owner has the club’s best interests at heart and does not meddle in team affairs, why should I care where he or she comes from?

His only obligation is to provide the cash to bankroll my team. And, the last time I checked, mega rich is mega rich regardless of whether your billions are in pounds, dollars, rubles, or riyals.

Of course, there are those who argue that the influx of foreigners to the English game has taken away its national character.

However, I don’t think that’s born out in practice, either in terms of the club's culture or, more importantly, in the way the teams perform.

I have lost count of the number of foreign opponents who have talked about the English way of playing, or the number of foreign imports who talk about adapting to the English style.

There is an English way – extremely high tempo, very physical, relentlessly competitive, and that is what gives the league its character.

So, in my book, there is no downside to the EPL’s cosmopolitan look. In fact, as long as the integrity of those involved remains intact, it is the perfect model because it blurs the borders.

And, let’s face it, if other leagues had been as progressive late in the last century, they would be reaping the same rewards as the English, and they would be loving it!

With three races left in the Formula One season the musical chairs have begun.

Alonso has signed a three year deal with Ferrari sparking off a host of potential driver changes for next year.

So far, the exchange of drivers will see Fernando Alonso of Spain switch from Renault to Ferrari next season in a three-year deal said to be worth in the region of $36 million to the two-time world champion.

At present, he is due to spearhead the Italians' 2010 title challenge alongside Felipe Massa, provided the Brazilian sufficiently recovers from the life-threatening head injury he sustained this season.

Of course, that means there is no place at Ferrari for Kimi Raikkonen, who won the title for them in 2007.

The Finn is apparently reluctant to leave, but the blow could be softened if, as is rumored, he gets to join Lewis Hamilton at McLaren next year.

All this is very interesting, as the teams start forming their ranks for what will be a very important season for the sport next year, when Formula One will surely hope to banish the memories of another scandal-ridden campaign.

However, just for the sake of argument, how about this for a radical idea to shake things up even further.

Why not make the drivers independent in future? By that I mean, sign them to the FIA but not to any specific team, and make them race in a different car at each grand prix?

As you know, there is an on-going discussion as to whether it is the driver or the car that makes the difference.

And, while it is obviously a combination of the two, it was interesting to hear Lewis Hamilton describe his title defense with McLaren this year as a “non-starter”, simply because his car was not up to scratch.

Here is how it would work. Drivers would test in all the cars during the off-season when the various mechanics and designers would do everything needed to get the dimensions and set-ups as close to ideal as possible for each man.

Come the start of the season, the drivers would then compete for each team in a season-long rotation.

To start the process at the opening grand prix, the last place finisher from the previous season’s driver’s championship would be first behind the wheel for the reigning constructor champions, and so on down the pecking order.

Newcomers to the F1 circuit would take the position in the order of the driver they replaced.

It is a similar idea to the worst teams in the NFL from the previous season getting the first pick in the draft for the following season in order to promote more parity, at least on paper.

Obviously, there would be a lot of technical issues to overcome, and I am interested to hear your views on the impracticalities.

However, some of the plusses would be that the potential for corruption and cheating would be reduced, as no driver would be affiliated to any one team.

It would provide some of the smaller teams, who currently just make up the numbers in Formula One, with a major boost, as a star driver might actually make them competitive.

At the end of the season, we’d not only know which is the best car, as the constructors championship would still exist, but also who is the best driver per se, not who had the best technology behind him.

What do you think?

“Big boys don’t cry.” That was the mantra we were raised on back in the days when the web was something you found in the dark corners of a garden shed.

Cris Arreola breaks down in tears after losing to Vitali Klitschko in Los Angeles.

So when we bumped our heads, skinned our knees, or didn‘t win the sack race on school Sport‘s Day, we were expected to grin and bear it without the need for fluids.

We had good role models too, especially in sport, where our heroes were stoic, stiff upper lip, take it on the chin types, who, to quote Kipling, “met Triumph and Disaster, and treated those two impostors the same.”

Well, times have changed and I’ve got kids of my own now. And there’s absolutely no way the “big boys don’t cry” mantra will fly, because everywhere you look someone is wailing.

The latest example came on Saturday night, when Mexican-American heavyweight boxer, Chris Arreola, a 6'3", 251 pound bruiser with a face only a mother could love, (and then only in dim light), bawled his eyes out after failing to relieve Vitali Klitschko of his WBC world title.

It didn’t help that Klitschko is the very definition of stoic so that Arreola looked like a big cry- baby by comparison.

But all the same, watching the self-styled “Nightmare” from East L.A, dripping on the shoulder of his coach after his title-dream was convincingly shattered was uncomfortable to say the least.

But then I started to think about it, and realized that while he might have looked like a bit of a grizzle-guts to Generation-X’ers like me, the 28-year-old was only doing what comes naturally to those born in Generation Y.

Crying in public has become as common among role models as scandals and bling, and sports stars who blubber in front of the cameras are just complying with the social norm.

Look at the more recent examples. Roger Federer loses to Rafael Nadal in this year’s Australian Open final, and weeps like he’s just lost his favorite uncle. Granted, Roger is a serial sobber, but this was his finest hour and he took next to no flak for it.

And so it continued. NBA legend, Michael Jordan, marks his induction to the Basketball Hall of Fame, with a tear-stained acceptance speech.

Habitual retiree, Brett Favre, departs the NFL, for the first time, in a flood of tears. John Terry misses a penalty to lose Chelsea the 2008 UEFA Champions League final, cue the waterworks.

Now obviously, there’ve been notable incidents of crying in sport in the more distant past. 17-year-old Pele howling when he won the FIFA World Cup with Brazil in 1958; Paul Gascoigne welling up when he was yellow carded in the 1990 World Cup semis; Oliver McCall blubbering so hard during a heavyweight bout with Lennox Lewis in 1997 that the referee stopped the fight!

But these were exceptions to the rule. And, in the cases I’ve mentioned, easily explained away by youth or mental instability that became apparent later.

However, in today’s society it seems you don’t need to be young or bonkers to turn on the taps, you just have to be human. And I’m still not sure whether that’s a good thing or bad thing.

Just over a week after Kim Clijsters' magnificent victory at the U.S. Open, Justine Henin announced she was returning to professional tennis.

Justine Henin gestures during her womens singles match against Russian opponent Maria Sharapova at the Australian Open 2008 tennis tournament in Melbourne, her last major before announcing retirement.

It’s another wonderful, and timely boost for the women's game, which in my opinion has been vastly inferior to the men’s this year.

You’ll remember that Henin shocked the tennis world last May by retiring while ranked number one in the world, and on the eve of last year's French Open, which she had won for the past three years.

As recently as this May, Justine said playing had left her with so many physical ailments a return to the tour was unthinkable.

But, rumors of a comeback had been gathering pace in the last few months. A Belgian television network reported that the 27-year-old had ordered 14 tennis rackets and was practicing intensely, supposedly for an exhibition she's due to play in December.

It turns out she’s going to play in two exhibitions. One at home, one in Dubai before making her competitive return at the Australian Open.

Kim Clijsters won her third tournament back – makes you think doesn’t it?

Though she won’t be a favorite in Melbourne, Henin could easily do a ‘Clijsters.’ She’s one of the most talented players the game has ever seen and before hanging up her rackets last May she was arguably the most mentally strong of all her rivals. That’s why she won seven Grand Slams.

None of those seven were at Wimbledon, and that, she cites, is one of the main reasons for returning. She’s had a few chances at the All England Club in the past and her game seems to be the perfect fit for the grass. Can she win it? Of course she can. Maybe in 2010 the Williams’ will have a little competition!

Terry Baddoo – but will she be any good?

So Henin has returned to the game, the big question remains can Justine, winner of 41 singles titles, reclaim her position at the top.

Well, obviously, nothing is guaranteed. And, having yet to see her on court, even in exhibition mode, it’s impossible to say for sure at what level she’ll be able to compete. However, it may be possible to make an informed judgment based on the way she looked when she announced her comeback on a Belgian TV.

Those who followed the first part of her career must surely have noticed that this was a woman with some baggage. A troubled life off the court, in which she lost her mother at the age of 12; had a sister killed in a car accident; became estranged from her family; endured a divorce; and suffered frequently recurring health problems had conspired to give Henin a haunted look by the time she quit the tour so dramatically on the eve of last year’s French Open.

Plus, in addition to health and personal issues, there was also the fact that Justine is obviously a thinker. A documentary on the star revealed someone with varied interests, a social conscience, and, strangely, for one who often looked so cold and detached on the court, a warm side to her personality.

So while the timing of her retirement was surprising, the fact that she chose retire was, on reflection, not so shocking. Because, though she cited a loss of passion as the reason, I suspect it may have been just the opposite, as it was her passion for exploring and growing in other areas of her life besides tennis that may well have propelled her to quit.

Indeed, she tacitly endorsed that deduction in her poetic comeback speech, when she talked about the fire having been rekindled, and the fact that she is a better and more fulfilled person now than she was 15 months ago.

And that was reflected in her demeanor during her comeback interview. Gone was the haunted, cautious, steel-coated Justine, to be replaced by a relaxed, smiling, open woman who was happy to announce she’s back in business. She even looked better. The pasty faced, lank-haired, plain Jane, replaced by a confident, glamor-puss clearly making the best of herself and feeling great about it.

Of course, her appearance may in part have been down to good hair and make-up girls, but I sensed it was deeper than that.

Having discovered herself, Justine is now ready for her close-up in a way that she never was before. And, together with Clijsters’ comeback, that’s a good thing for women’s tennis at a time when the Williams sisters needed to be challenged at the big tournaments for the sake of the sport.

So, “Allez Justine”, and welcome back. I hope your return works out the way you want it to. But, more importantly, I also hope you maintain your inner peace.

As a neutral, I couldn't care less about Manchester United beating Manchester City with a goal in the 96th minute. Neither of them are my team and it was a great game - one of the best Manchester derbies I have ever seen.

Michael Owen's late winner has re-opened the debate on whether the referee should relinquish time-keeping duties.

I do however, believe it raises the question as to whether the referee and his match officials should be responsible for time-keeping in this day and age, when the rewards for victory are so high, and when teams are fit enough to battle right to the final whistle.

Remember, while stoppage time is viewed as time added-on, it's really no more than compensation for the time lost during the game. In other words, the aim is for each game to last exactly 90 minutes, no more no less.

The problem is that each official appears to have a different view of what constitutes time wasted. Time lost for treatment to injuries is obvious. (Though what constitutes an "injury" requiring the trainer in today's game would have been a rub and a shrug not so long ago.)

But minutes added on for other things like substitutions, goal celebrations, delayed free-kicks, and petty stuff like not tossing the ball to an opponent when it goes out of play, are all open to interpretation.

What's more, with the various other things the officials have to watch-out for in a high tempo game often played at the very limit of the rules, it must be really hard for them to stay abreast of something as basic, but fundamental as the time.

So, why not take out the guesswork by having an official time-keeper? What's more, have the official clock visible to the players, coaches, and fans so that everyone knows where they stand in terms of how much time is left.

The clock could even be stopped every time the whistle blew for an infringement, substitution, or whatever. I know the technology exists in the NBA whereby the reaction to the ref's whistle is almost immediate.

The beauty of the idea would be that as well as ensuring that games last the full 90 minutes, avoiding controversies like the one in Manchester, it could also cut-out some of the play-acting and gamesmanship, such as the 89th minute substitution or the phantom foul, that teams quite legimately use at the moment to waste time. There'd be nothing to gain.

The clock could even stop once a goal is scored, as the ball is dead anyway. That way even the most prolonged goal celebration would not cause a double whammy for the conceding team, which, at present, gives up a goal and some of the time left to respond.

I would also favor the game ending with an official buzzer instead of the ref's whistle. After all, how often have you seen the prescribed amount of stoppage time elapse only for the ref to add on a bit in order to let a particular move, such as a corner, play-out... When time's up time's up, and if you have a buzzer and a time-keeper that would be that.

Now I doubt there'll be much support amongst the football purists for this suggestion. Too progressive. Too impersonal. Too American - I can hear them all now.

But I'm pretty sure there's at least one person in the football fraternity who might be open to the idea, and his name is Mark Hughes - manager of Manchester City.