ONE butt, several ifs. While not quite Zidane: je ne regrette rien, the former midfield player’s second trial by television in four days was no doe-eyed Martin Bashir-style confessional. C’est la vie. Just don’t try this at home, kids.

Eight years to the day after Zinédine Zidane scored twice against Brazil to win France their first World Cup and his face was projected on to the Arc de Triomphe, he appeared on small screens across the nation to explain why he played the bull to Marco Materazzi’s taunting toreador in Berlin on Sunday.

The 34-year-old wore ripped jeans with a dark green combat-style jacket. Almost camouflage gear — aptly, since he was hiding something. He did not reveal precisely what Materazzi had said to him. The attire, modest yet militaristic and passive-aggressive, summed up Zidane’s attitude: sorry that children saw the head-butt, but otherwise unrepentant.

His deportment radiated quiet self-assurance. He referred to being “ten minutes away from ending my career” — rather than, say, from winning the World Cup. He explained that he chipped his early penalty because he wanted to do something special, since it was the final. Most players would simply think about scoring, never mind pondering issues of artistic merit.

Michel Denisot, one of France’s leading news and sport presenters, popped the questions on CanalPlus, but perhaps not since Steve Cram’s gentle amble through Paula Radcliffe’s marathon misfortune in the Athens Olympics in 2004 has there been a more sympathetic interview of an under-fire sporting figure.

Immediately afterwards, Zidane gave an interview to another leading journalist, Claire Chazal, on TF1. He admitted to having a dark side: “I’m a human being and it has to be accepted, but I always try to be true to who I am.”

That means, an elegant sporting genius whose golden career was garishly flecked with red cards. “I have a need to play intensely every day, to fight every match hard,” he said in 2004. Some believe that inner fury stems from his testing childhood as a French Algerian in a tough town. Zidane, like Eric Cantona, was brought up in Marseilles — in a quartier difficile called La Castellane.

One French journalist wrote this week: “In Marseilles, people talk with conviction. There you don’t hesitate to hit when the power of words is not enough to solve an issue. So the comments on Zidane’s red card, Zidane the child of Castellane, were relatively mild.”

Chazal suggested that his descent from demi-god to mere mortal somehow made him a more sympathetic figure. “I wouldn’t change a thing. It’s my destiny and I have to accept it. I believe in myself and in a higher power. Now a new, more private, life starts,” Zidane said. “I will go to Algeria and find my roots again.”

Even before Zidane talked, France declined to milk its scapegoat. During a couple of days of ambivalence, with the nation vacillating between the urge to condemn and to comprehend and trying to decide just how much Zidane’s sending-off has tarnished his legacy, regret, rather than anger, was the dominant emotion.

“The main feeling is sadness, because we all wanted the final to be a great jubilee for such a great player,” Camille Lapierre, a Parisian, said yesterday.

While effigies of David Beckham were strung up in England eight years ago after the former England captain was sent off against Argentina, France has plumped for gallows humour.

“It must be infuriating for the Italians to see the world more interested in Zidane’s head than in their victory. If only for that, thanks Zizou!” one fan wrote in Libération’s online forum. A “tribute” song has already been written by three fans.

Explore Football

• Premier League

• Football League

• Scotland

• European Football

• International Football

• TheGame

• Live Match Tracker

• The Fink Tank

• Fantasy Football