I like a man who's good with his feet, a young Baryshnikov springs to mind. I like a man who stays on his feet even better. Watching a highly skilled footballer swan dive into the turf unaided is an acquired taste I've never - well - acquired. 

Without casting aspersions, it's safe to say that at least one player last weekend hit the grass faster than you could say Michael Baird is a diver. Then there was the case of Patricio Perez. Has anyone crumpled so easily since Danny Green gave Paul Briggs a comb-over in the 29th second?

Now I admit I'm not one of the great minds of football. I'm just another terrace monkey who forks out her hard-earned peanuts to follow the game. The only things I stumble across are on the internet. Which is exactly where I found some angry forumites heaping abuse on the alleged divers. So what is the worst insult you can hurl at a perpetrator? Girl, apparently. I'm assuming it's not because women are genetically prone to falling over, but more on that later.

Just as irritating as the simulation is the justification. Swings and roundabouts the sage pundits pronounce (although exactly what playground equipment has to do with it is anybody's guess). Likely it's similar to the notion of Karma. While I'm not a believer, I appreciate the mystic possibilities that the face you smack today could bite you on the arse tomorrow. If only it were that simple.

Was Karma at work when France imploded in the embryonic stages of the World Cup after denying Ireland the ignominy of also being bundled out in the group phase? If so, where is the justice in that? Yes you can wallow in your enemy's misery - it's a cathartic way to spend a lazy afternoon - but it doesn't recover what's stolen.

Diving is theft, pure and simple. And it's of little consolation to know that those who steal from you will have their own pockets picked further down the track. Simulation cheats opponents of points; defrauds fans of a fair contest; swindles money off the poor schmucks who place a few bob on the outcome; and diminishes the game's reputation. It's a fix. A con. And no less repugnant just because it's opportunistic or comes as a final flourish to some elegant footwork.

Usually blokes will run a mile at the mere suggestion of floppiness. Not here. Not for those who think a well-timed collapse demonstrates on-field nous; a little trickery that every footballer should have in his locker. Able to dribble with both feet - tick. Go one on one with the defender - tick. Simulate being hacked down then jump up 30 seconds later to slot home the winning penalty without raising suspicion - tick, tick.

There are some decidedly ordinary arguments against the FFA's tough stance on diving. It's hard to know which is the more offensive: the fact that Australian fans are such a bunch of hayseeds we don't appreciate the nuances of elite-level gamesmanship; or that giving Perez his marching orders cheated the A-League of his artistry and condemned Central Coast to some pretty average home crowds over the coming weeks.

The only valid question regarding Baird and Perez is did they or didn't they?  In the case of Perez we've been subjected to a frame-by-frame inquiry of forensic detail. Still not convinced? Let's bring in a biomechanic expert. Personally I wouldn't mind borrowing one of those to explain why it takes 20 minutes and an espresso each morning before I can walk a straight line. If only the FBI had applied such scientific rigour to the grassy knoll.

Then there's that high resolution zoomy-thingy that appears to show a wrinkle in Perez's sock caused by the keeper's outstretched glove. Yes - that's all it takes, a mere whisper of a touch to fell one of these exquisite playmakers. Quite frankly I've witnessed more brutal brush-offs at the Pastoral on a Friday night.

Diving is a low act, in every sense. So why are offenders labelled girls?  I haven't watched a huge amount of women's football but the overwhelming impression is that female players stay on their feet. Despite all insults to the contrary, women don't buckle at the mere hint of physical force or the chance of a cheap goal.

American footballer Elizabeth Lambert gained You Tube notoriety for her on-field thuggery that included, among other manoeuvres, a fistful of ponytail and some vicious whiplash. Afterwards, in an online interview, former Alabama defender Emily Pitek confessed she loved it. Of female footballers she said: "You need to really show that you're not some dainty little prisspot."

Perhaps it provides an insight into why real women don't dive - it's a battle against stereotypes. The Australian game is locked in a similar battle. So for the few male players who do their best work face down in the turf here's a suggestion: show some respect to the fans and the game. If there's no foul stay on your feet and, above all, take it like a girl.