SOL CAMPBELL is making a habit of these unexpected mini-breaks. When he was at Tottenham Hotspur, a few of the lads went away to the Mediterranean for a couple of days, but Campbell did not fancy it. So they were surprised when, in the middle of the holiday, he walked into their hotel on his own. A couple of days later, he left as he had arrived — without telling anyone. The boys were bemused.

Which underlines what we know: he is unusual. More solitary and sensitive than the average footballer, with a strange attitude to holidays, as his jaunt to Brussels (Belgium — in February?) over the weekend confirms.

So, Campbell needed time to deal with his “issues”, whatever they are. Yet no one has questioned the way Arsène Wenger, the Arsenal manager, has handled a pretty damn big “issue” of his own — the mysterious case of the vanishing England centre back.

What Campbell did was professional negligence, for which he should have been fined. Deserting your team-mates during a match should result in you being packed off to the reserves, not given a holiday. To be blunt, a man who finishes work at 2pm every day has plenty of opportunity to sort out his problems on his own time.

Why was he not reprimanded? Perhaps it is the way of the world that stars receive special treatment. Because dressing-room confrontation and criticism is not the style of Wenger’s Arsenal, where egos are more likely to be indulged than bruised. Or maybe Wenger, ruthlessly clever operator that he is, does not want a messy rupture that would devalue the defender’s worth should he wish to ease him out of the door quietly in the summer.

In every club I belonged to, at least one player had personal problems. One guy was infamous for taking time off to attend three or four “funerals” a year. He must have had the biggest, and unluckiest, extended family in England.

Once when I was struggling for form and having difficulties in my private life, I went to Liam Brady, the Celtic manager at the time, a couple of hours before a match and asked him to leave me out because my head was not right. He was furious, but he did. The point is that I asked him before the game and I didn’t run and hide.

It comes down to this: if Campbell had not made those two mistakes against West Ham United and been substituted, would he have walked out? Surely not. If you are not in a fit state to play at half-time, you are not right before the game, either. If you want help, then the club have a duty to look after your welfare. But if you treat your employer shabbily and cause confusion and worry, then sympathy should not be limitless.

We are told that Campbell is back in training and that everything seems OK. I do not buy it. I think there are deeper questions that not even a trip to Brussels can solve. Is it the trauma of a thirty-something player who sees his World Cup dream evaporating, who is struggling to cope with the realisation that his legs are slowing and his skills diminishing? I don’t think so. Campbell is 31. As you age, what you lose physically you compensate for with experience.

But maybe there are days when Campbell does not fancy being a footballer. His wealth and celebrity offer him amazing opportunities to do whatever he wants in life, to pursue new interests, such as acting. In this he resembles Stan Collymore, another complicated talent with a personality that did not fit football’s template.

Fine, but to be a top player, you must be utterly focused. More to life? Think like that and you will falter, and that gives an introspective personality even more reason to brood. Sorry, Sol, you can’t have Highbury and Hollywood and expect to be happy.