‘The dark arts’. A term more readily associated with the Alastair Campbells and Malcolm Tuckers of real and fictional politics, it has been doing the rounds in football circles since Sergio Ramos’ antics in the Champions League Final. But what does it actually mean?

According to Wikipedia, “Dark Arts is the second studio album by The Killers bassist Mark Stoermer”. Well obviously, but there is, in fact, an even more relevant definition. In a footballing context, ‘dark arts’ refers to either a mild bending of the rules or a blatant act of cheating, all in the name of victory.

You might also be familiar with a popular spin-off known as ‘Sh**housery’. In this variation, winning the match is of secondary importance to inducing ruddy-faced rage in your opponent. At its best, sh**housery is Frasier and dark arts is Cheers. In this analogy, playing the game with a slavish adherence to the rules and earnestly stating ‘We don’t want to see that kind of thing on the football pitch’ is Mrs Brown’s Boys. Thousands of grown men raging because someone’s celebrated a goal in front of them? We absolutely DO want to see that kind of thing.

The act should ideally be committed in the pursuit of an advantage, whether that be literal (e.g. deliberately handling the ball on the line to prevent a goal) or psychological (e.g. planting your team’s flag in the opposing centre circle). At the very least, it should adhere to the philosophy of ‘getting it right up you’.

There is a fine line between the idea of ‘practicing the dark arts’ and the idea of ‘just being a w**k’. It’s possible, however, for a man to embody both ideas simultaneously. This is known as ‘Luissuarezing’.

Lashing out in the heat of the moment is neither sh**housery or dark arts, hence no Barton, Cantona or Keane in this round-up. A true practitioner of the dark arts will possess a modicum of intelligence and a Machiavellian tendency to plot or scheme. This is where ‘dark arts’ differs from ‘bampottery’. It’s the difference between Sergio Ramos and Josh Windass, or Richard Nixon and Donald Trump.

Here are just a few classic examples…


Emmanuel Adebayor: King Sh*thouse

The gold standard of sh**housery, by which all other sh**housery must be measured. People will tell you that if a player scores against a team who once paid his wages, he should resist his natural inclination to celebrate and instead show ‘respect’ by solemnly bowing his head and mournfully trudging back to the centre circle. People believe this. As a wise Hans once said, “You can’t trust people. People like Coldplay and voted for the Nazis”. Anyone who gets angry at a footballer celebrating against their old club finds Bruno Mars ‘a bit edgy’ and would keep their official club socks on during sex on the off chance that someone was willing to have sex with them.

Man City striker Adebayor faced his previous employers Arsenal and served notice of his sh**housing intentions by appearing to kick out at Robin Van Persie. That was just the starter, and after heading City’s third he refused to read the ‘muted celebration’ script. Instead, he ran the full length of the pitch with a big smile on his face and slid on his knees in front of a baying Arsenal away support. In truly magnificent scenes, Gooner faces wore the pained expressions of Smiths fans reading Morrissey’s latest interview. Grown men clambered over each other in a hilarious attempt to get on the pitch. He was booked for his troubles, presumably under some new ‘Having a laugh is a punishable offence’ legislation. The unhinged rage was utterly delicious, and Adebayor deserves genuine respect for this textbook display of utter sh**housery.

Like this? Try Scott Brown v El Hadji Diouf, Andreas Möller puffing his chest out after scoring the winning penalty against England at Wembley, Lionel Messi offering his shirt to Real Madrid fans


In terms of red-hot rivalry, Fenerbahce v Galatasaray is up there with Celtic v Rangers, Boca Juniors v River Plate, Barcelona v Real Madrid and what Sky Sports pretends Man City v Man United is. If you’re Galatasaray’s manager and you’ve just beaten Fenerbahce on their own turf, you’re probably going to applaud the away support then usher your players into the dressing room. Souness gonna Souness though, and the moustachioed manager proceeded to plant a Galatasaray flag in Fenerbahce’s centre circle. As inflammatory gestures go, it’s up there with singing Suspicious Minds in front of Anthony Stokes.

Souness has form in this area. Dubbed ‘The Magnificent B**tard’ by Rangers fans, he waited a full 35 minutes before picking up a red card on his Rangers debut. He later brought Mo Johnston to Ibrox, a move that while controversial at the time (Celtic, bigotry etc) actually ended sectarianism in the West of Scotland forever. I’ll drink Guinness in an Orange Lodge to that.

Like this? Try Neil Lennon cupping his ears at Ibrox, Marco Materazzi goading Zinedine Zidane in the 2006 World Cup Final


It’s a World Cup quarter-final and you’re seconds away from penalties. You’re on the goal-line. An opponent heads the ball towards the goal. If you genuinely believe you’d choose to let the ball go past you into the net, this column is not for you and the Express probably has a story more to your taste about immigrants talking too loud while you’re trying to watch Poldark or something.

Although Suarez has at various times been guilty of genuinely appalling behaviour, his decision to handle the ball on the line can be filed under ‘dark arts’ rather than ‘assault’ or ‘racism’. Ghana forward Asamoah Gyan failed to convert the resultant spot-kick, justifying Suarez’s handball AND prompting absolutely shameless celebrations from the Uruguay striker. This dash of sh**housery is what separates it from less successful goal-line handballs, such as Carlos Cuellar’s “Player of the Year, now he’s a d**k” moment at Celtic Park.

Like this? Try West Germany goalkeeper Harald Schumacher not just denying France’s Patrick Battiston a goalscoring opportunity but hospitalising him in the process, Ole Gunnar Solskjaer running half the length of the pitch to bring down Newcastle’s Rob Lee when he was clean through on goal


Av Champions League winning sh*thouse, Sergio Ramos

The ‘accidental’ collision with Mo Salah. The dive after not really being touched by Sadio Mané. The ‘accidental’ collision with Loris Karius. Ramos chose club football’s biggest occasion to go full Ramos. For years he was joined at Real Madrid by Pepe, the Pumpkin to his Honey Bunny. Lunges, dives, kicks, dissent, elbows are all part of the Ramos repertoire, and make him a shoo-in for captain of the Sh**housery XI.

Like this? Try Kyle Lafferty, Diego Costa


A picture speaks a thousand words.

Like this? Try Thierry Henry v Republic of Ireland



Proving that unrepentant b**tardry is not solely the domain of players, Jose Mourinho has spent the last 15 years flying the sh**house flag from the dugout. Running across the Nou Camp pitch in celebration after knocking Barcelona out of the Champions League with Inter, labelling Arsene Wenger a “voyeur” and making a handcuffs gesture to complain about a referee are among his many achievements in the field.

Since wildly overstepping the mark with his criticism of then-Chelsea doctor Eva Carneiro, Mourinho has become an exhausted-looking parody of himself, who spent so long playing mind games he eventually psyched himself out.

Like this? Try Sir Alex Ferguson v Kevin Keegan, the sustained campaign of sh**housery that is Craig Levein: Hearts Manager

Sh**housery XI (3-2-5)

1. Schumacher

2. Materazzi

3. Pepe

4. Ramos (C)

5. Souness

6. Lafferty

7. Henry

8. Costa

9. Suarez

10. Maradona

11. Adebayor

Manager: Jose Mourinho