French frights

As someone who in French conversation class once attempted to use the endearment mon petit chou ("my little cabbage") and said mon petit queue ("my little tail-end") instead, I know the language can be dangerous.

So I sympathise with Leeds United manager Dave O'Leary, the focus of controversy after last weekend's Leeds-Arsenal football match. Which apparently featured several outbreaks of football during the 90 minutes of end-to-end violence; and resulted in an impressive seven bookings for Arsenal but, luckily, no fatalities.

Then, as the teams were stretchered off, there was an "incident" in the tunnel. According to the Guardian, Dave O'Leary was giving an interview when two Arsenal players, Thierry Henry and Robert Pires, passed him and the latter "muttered something in French". Since both players are French, this is not as sinister as it sounds. But O'Leary apparently responded by saying "au revoir!" and then "all hell broke loose".

Pires had to be restrained as he confronted the manager, screaming "Putain!" (literally "commercial sex worker!") repeatedly; whereupon the startled O'Leary understandably reverted to English and asked witnesses: "What have I done?"

O'Leary is not being investigated over the incident, happily. There were reports he had also provocatively "blown a kiss" at Pires, but in a field which features more same-sex kissing than the acting profession, that's hardly a case for the prosecution. My guess is that the whole problem arose from a mispronunciation. O'Leary probably meant to say "au revoir" to Pires, but instead insulted his sister.

French is the language of international diplomacy, ironically enough. Partly this is because it's very difficult to insult an English-speaking person in it - most French swear words are more elegant than polite English, so it's like being slapped in the face with a silk scarf. But it is also a heavily nuanced language, and in his no-doubt sincere attempts to sympathise with Arsenal on their defeat, O'Leary clearly failed to find the mot juste.

According to my dictionary, mot derives from the Latin muttire, which also produced the Italo-English motto and is "distantly related" to "mutter" (the word we met earlier, in suspicious circumstances!). The French mot means "word" and can also mean "witty saying"; but where O'Leary comes from, it means "girlfriend". You can see the potential for misunderstanding right there! O'Leary was maintaining "a dignified silence" on Monday. I think that's probably wise.

AS you'll have noticed, Christmas is upon us. It's been upon us since October, in fact, which drove a commercialisation-weary correspondent to this paper on Wednesday to urge legislation for a pre-December ban.

Many people will echo the sentiment, but I'm not sure the legislative route is appropriate. Experience tells us prohibition would only drive the trade underground, and perhaps hand Christmas-tree trafficking over to organised crime.

Yes, piped carols in supermarkets could be curbed: it would be popular with staff, who for three months a year must go to bed with sleighbells ringing in their ears.

But as for general prohibition, you have to ask how it would be enforced. Especially considering an incident reported last week in the Washington Post, arising from the understandable urge to ban junk food from that city's Metro.

Imposing the law strictly, the transit police recently arrested a 12-year-old girl in a station for possession of French fries with intent to eat. She told reporters an officer approached her saying: "Put down your fries!" He then searched her schoolbag for drugs, before handcuffing her and removing the laces of her tennis shoes, presumably in case she was overcome by guilt and attempted to hang herself.

According to the Washington Post, the girl "must now perform community service and undergo counselling". Most people in Ireland would consider this extreme: surely such treatment should be reserved for serious offenders - passengers with personal stereos, for instance. But it illustrates the pitfalls of any ban.

Anyway, this column got its first Christmas card a few days ago. It came from the aid agency Trocaire and it charmingly included a gift certificate for "40 day-old chicks" to be shared, on the column's behalf, among families in Central America. (I've checked with the Irish Times Ethics Committee and I'm OK on this one.)

The column does not normally endorse products or services. But the cards are a fine idea in a good cause, and anyone tired of commercialised Christmas should order some from 1850-408-408. It is December after all.

fmcnally@irish-times.ie