Henry was now suffering the same professional trauma as a misfiring £50m striker. He was Fernando Torres in a knitted tie. Just as it reached the point that his insight-drought would start to be measured in hours rather than games, and that he should take some comfort from at least getting into the right positions to pundit, Henry knew he had to pull something, anything, out of the bag. Finally, a hastily-considered attempted take-down of Real Madrid's Javier Hernandez for celebrating the goal that took them into the Champions League semi-finals (instead of appreciating Cristiano Ronaldo's assist) was the punditry equivalent of a goal scored off his backside: they all count.