My Head, It Is Full of Le Bon Travaile de Zidane

It's taken me a few days to come to grips with the World Cup final, and after some family members sent some very insightful and interesting articles on the subject, I've officially changed my mind about Zidane.

I was rooting for the French; I like the country of France more than I like Italy; I speak passable French; I like Zidane and Henry immensely both as soccer players and as human beings. So I was pretty disappointed when Zidane pulled his little headbutt stunt. I mean, here's the star of the French team, one of the best players in the modern era, playing in his last game ever, and the guy does something he had to know would result in a red card. And as fate would have it, his team could have used his magic foot in the shootout.

I was angry at Zidane and for the past few days, his stock had plummeted on the Trout Human Valuation Index. But like I said, I've read some interesting things lately and I've changed my mind.

Zidane had been hassled the entire game. Some reports say it was ugly verbal taunting (the final straw may have been a racial slur about his mother or sister), some say he'd had his jersey pulled the entire game and had even had his nipple pinched.

So an increasingly larger part of me understands what he did. In fact, an increasingly larger part of me, the tough brute manly part, wishes Zidane hadn't simply knocked that Italian loser onto his ass, but that he had stomped on his tenders a la Rooney to boot.

Getting into your opponent's head is a key part of any professional sport. Just don't be surprised when the retaliation comes. Yes, Zidane's headbutt might have cost his team the World Cup. I'm sure he understands that and is sorry for the consequences of his actions.

But I, for one, have forgiven him and wish him the best of luck.