Following Monsieur Barton's latest charming contribution to the 'beautiful' game - a wild, dangerous lunge at Liverpool's exquisite, composed midfielder Xabi Alonso - I began to wonder what exactly this man will have to do to find himself excluded once and for all from the sport. A 93rd minute decapitation? Dugout rape? Centre-circle bestiality?
Barton's rap sheet to date, even excluding his own irreverent spin on the art of the tackle, is startling. Of his numerous misdemeanours, a few are worthy of special attention. In December 2004, at the Manchester City F.C. Christmas party, Barton made a clean break from the traditional dispensatory powers of an ashtray, preferring instead to extinguish a cigar in the eye of a youth team player. Continuing his own special brand of 'youth work', the following summer Barton could be found assaualting a 15-year-old Everton fan, presumably because he looked at him the wrong way - a luxury sadly no longer afforded to his previous victim. Happiness is a cigar called...
Later, in 2007, Barton clashed with his City team-mate Ousmane Dabo in training, leaving him looking like he'd gone twelve rounds (OK, a round and a bit) with Manny Pacquiao. Admitting the charges (what a guy!), Barton soon went on to add to his reputation with a Happy Meal-tastic battering of a man outside a Liverpool McDonalds. His 77-day prison term presumably provided him ample time to carefully plan his next ankle-smashing blockuster.
It is fair, therefore, to say that we are not dealing with our common-or-garden petulant pantomime dame; a Robbie Savage, or a Danny Mills, if you will. Rather, Barton is a dangerous, spiteful, unrepentant villain with a disgusting track record. Barton's frequent "I'm a changed man"-style interviews only serve to make his consistent unpleasantness stick in the throat more.
In a perfect world, English football's governing bodies, or even his employers at club level, would tell him to sling his hook. But, alas, that would almost certainly prove a step too far for the morally skewed, money-powered version of football that constitutes the sport at its top level today. He is a 5.8 million pound investment, and it would thus be unthinkable to dispense with him on a business level. However, when Barton ends someone's career (or life - hey! this is a rant, OK?) one day with one of his trademark assaults, his apologists will not be able to say that they have not been warned. Football needs to amend its moral code, and act quickly to ensure that Barton can inflict no more damage...
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