The headbutt--a retrospective

This year's World Cup could have been devastating to soccer in America. The national team embarassed themselves, thanks in part to a tough schedule, an unrealistically high ranking and foolish promotion from ESPN. The images etched into our heads weren't soaring headers and beautiful goals but red cards and players writhing on the ground. The Italians, known as a team of divers without any flair, won the whole thing. And the pundits were louder than ever, claiming that soccer was boring and girly.

And then something happened that changed the way Americans looked at soccer. Zinedine Zidane--an aging legend in his final game, the best player in the tournament and France's national hero--flat-out leveled Marco Materazzi. With his head. And while the media erupted in outrage, Zidane's legend was permanently tarnished and his team sunk into defeat, the average American had just one thought--that was the coolest thing I've ever seen.

In the two weeks since the headbutt, it's erupted into a phenomenon. It's all over T.V. and has become a full-fledged internet meme (See Zidane headbutt the Death Star! See Materazzi's head fly off! See Zidane K.O. the Karate Kid!). Even Conan O'Brien has a new sketch where Zizou saves choking victims with a cranial Heimlich maneuver. A month ago, could you have imagined soccer appearing on the Late Show?

So what makes the moment so appealing? The circumstances, obviously, along with Zidane's stature in the game and the fact that he used his head--no hands allowed in futbol, after all. If Materazzi had been hurt, it would have been much less exciting, but really, how much damage could that headbutt (planted in the chest, not the face) have really done? Instead we just have a man felled in his tracks, curled in a ball, clutching his ribs--all from a standing header. It could have happened in a Chuck Norris movie, but this is the World Cup!

It also helps that the whole thing just feels so damn justified. Materazzi, by all accounts, is a vicious thug--a quick search through YouTube will show him stomping on players' legs, delivering knees to the testicles, and dispensing one especially brutal elbow to the face of Juan Pablo Sorin that left him crumpled and bloody on the ground. He was also suspended for two months for punching an opposing player after a match and even accused of match-fixing after he scored an own goal to prevent another team from being relegated.

Let us set the scene then. We have the petulant punk, the cheap-shot artist, who was cursed even in his own country. Away from the play, he comes up behind Zidane, the superstar playing in his final match, and starts tugging at a handful of his jersey. Zizou makes a flippant remark--"We can trade shirts after the match, if you like"--and turns the other cheek. But the hoodlum follows, dispensing an insult (to Zidane's race or to his mother, depending on who you believe) that curdles the champion's blood. And our hero turns, eyes the villain, and plants him on the turf without raising a finger. Sweet.

In a world that thinks Samuel L. Jackson is cool because of what he says out of a script, Zidane must be the pinnacle of a badass.

In an instant, Zidane's legacy became not just his World Cup title or his Fifa Player of the Year awards, but his cranium and red card. Is it really tarnished? Well, it would have been better had he won the cup, but France's chances were slim anyway. Though they were controlling the ball, they had managed only two decent looks at goal in the last 60 minutes against the tough Italian defense. Three of Les Bleus' four best players--Henry, Ribery and Viera--had left the match, leaving the offense crippled. It seems unlikely they would have broken through in the 10 minutes remaining before penalty kicks. And once the kicks began, Italy's Buffon clearly outclassed France's Barthez in goal; it would have taken some extremely good luck for France to win.

So instead of leaving the field in likely defeat, Zidane left it in a small bit of triumph, if only in a physical altercation. He did not win the match, but he left his mark on it, and for that reason alone he is much more likely to be remembered than if he had kept his head to himself. He wasn't in the class of Maradona or Pele as a player, but he will be just as talked about. And to a generation of soccer-apathetic Americans watching on YouTube, he is now way cooler than either of those former stars.

FIFA's decision today to punish the players involved only helps the hero's cause. Soccer's governing body passed down a three-game suspension to Zidane, which matters little to a player that already retired. As a show of good faith he'll "serve" his suspension with community service. Materazzi, though, faces a two-game suspension that will cause him to miss qualifying matches for Euro 2008--including a potential match with France. In this case, his actions didn't appear to warrant the suspension, but FIFA appears to have adopted the position of "You're a douchebag, so we don't really care." It seems only fitting that the man who made a reputation doing things behind the referee's back is finally punished for something he didn't really do.

And thus Zidane walks away from the pitch with another small victory, as his victim suffers the only real punishment. Zidane will look at his 1998 World Cup trophy on the mantle (along with, perhaps, his Euro 2000 trophy), watch Materazzi stew on the bench in Euro qualification, and think about how good it felt to put that punk in his place. Then, perhaps he'll go online to enjoy some funny videos.

The one where Materazzi bursts into flames is particularly good.