ADAM Selwood said he didn't use the word "slut" towards Des Headland, referring to the image of his daughter tattooed on his upper arm. He would never have been so crude.

No, all he said he had done was to ask Headland what was that "shit" on his arm, and to add: "I was with a girl like that the other night."

"Shit on your arm"? "Girl like that"? How could anyone construe that as "slut", he appeared to ask? Doubtless, what Selwood actually meant to say was: "She's just like a friend of mine, Des old mate, a really good sort, too. We must have a chat about it the next time you're around for a barbecue. Oh, and by way, thanks for the punch in the guts."

It is just that in the heat of battle, the words came out all wrong.

In this most perverse case, Selwood is off, and good luck to him. So is Headland, and good luck to him, too. But spare us the hypocrisy.

Words can and do kill. This was the derby, the biggest match of all in Perth. Headland is known for his susceptible temperament. It is not only possible but probable that West Coast was under instruction to get under his skin by any and all means.

Its tactics were as the Australian cricket team's sometimes are: systematic, calculated, crude, unlovely. The end justifies the means. If Selwood could distract Headland, if Materazzi could get Zidane sent off in a World Cup final …

Selwood's taunt was widely regarded as within bounds. It was not meant personally. It was a part of the game. Damian Monkhorst meant no personal insult when he assailed Michael Long in the Anzac Day match of 1994. But the skin Monkhorst tried to get under that day was black, and its inhabitant proud. Eventually, he changed the game.

Racism now is a no-no. But other 'isms live on. Selwood said if he'd known Headland's tattoo was of his daughter, he would not have said what he did. All he knew was that it was a woman, "shit", "a girl like that". No one's daughter. A slut.

But Headland was as proud of his daughter as Long was of his race.

Sledging is a part of sport. At its best, it is funny, clever. At a lunch yesterday, Paul Salmon recalled how, at the start of a Hawthorn-Western Bulldogs game, Tony Woods looked across the centre circle at Tony Liberatore and said: "Libba, I already know I'm short, slow, ugly, can't kick and have a big arse. Now can we just play the game?"

To which Libba replied: "You forgot one thing: you've got a small dick."

At its worst, sledging is a failure of the imagination. If he must, Selwood could have attacked Headland man-to-man. "You're weak. You won't go and get the ball. You're letting your team down." In that, there would have been a form of honour. Instead, it was "girl like that".

Selwood at the tribunal was steadfast, unshakeable. This was as disturbing as it was impressive, for it meant that in claiming to have done no wrong, he was not simply spinning a line. He believed it. Afterwards, he said: "I never meant to offend Des or his family." (!)

This goes to the heart of football culture. Selwood's mistake was not to offend more grievously than many others, but to be exposed by Headland and made to confront it. West Coast is not the only offender, but it does have the worst name to live down.

For two days, I've been overwhelmed by emails from West Coast fans for writing that Selwood used the word "slut". The few that didn't warn me to adopt a disguise for the next few days — and advise me that my tipping was "shit" on the way through — demanded an immediate and abject apology.

I'm sorry all right. I'm sorry that our great game can still be after all these years the preserve of so many grubs.