Marcelo Zalayeta made no contact with Gianluigi Buffon – this is beyond dispute – but whether or not he had a tiny shove from Nicola Legrottaglie makes little difference. He catapulted himself over the Juventus shot-stopper and simultaneously dragged his foot along the ground to seek contact. Let us for the sake of argument take Napoli’s word for it, that the Uruguayan was only trying to avoid a dangerous collision with his former teammate. “He jumped over him in a gentlemanly fashion, immediately getting back up without making a meal of it,” said director general Pierpaolo Marino. So why didn’t gentleman Zalayeta tell the referee that when the penalty was assigned? If it was purely to avoid hurting an opponent, should he not have piped up with that explanation instead of dooming the team he had represented for eight years to an unfair defeat?

Apparently not, and here is where we find our fundamental problem with the way football is viewed. “Referring to the fact Zalayeta didn’t tell the referee there was no contact sets a dangerous precedent,” added Marino. “From the next match everyone will want to point out the players who didn’t confess to the referee.” Maybe I’m missing something, but wasn’t that the point of this rule change in the first place? If we are to stamp out simulation and encourage players to help the officials rather than con them with Oscar-worthy performances, a large part of that involves dialogue and honesty when someone gets it wrong.

It’s not that hard to imagine a world where “gentlemanly” conduct involves admitting to a mistake. In Milan’s defeat to Roma on Sunday, Paolo Maldini asked the referee and linesman to reverse a throw-in, as it had come off his leg rather than the Giallorossi player. He didn’t need the threat of punishment over his head to make such a gesture, but clearly for some clubs even that is not enough to make gentlemen out of cheats.