I HAVE a message for Ruud van Nistelrooy — stop it.

Stop your diving, stop your over-reacting and stop provoking people.

Otherwise your exceptional talent for this game will be lost in a reputation similar to that being carried by the comparatively limited Robbie Savage.

Taken in isolation, his Lord of The Dance-style jig to Patrick Vieira’s flailing foot at Old Trafford on Sunday can be forgiven.

But this comes as part of a long litany of over-the-top reactions from the Dutchman, mostly in the penalty box, designed to con the referee.

The thing that disappoints the most is that he has a God-given talent. Perhaps the best striker in the world at present, his talent is being demeaned by his own behaviour.

It was interesting last week that Sir Alex Ferguson revealed he had to speak to one of his players because he felt he was diving too much. No names, but I do not think we had to look too far for the culprit.

While I cannot condone Arsenal’s behaviour at the final whistle, I can understand it.

A man already with a growing reputation had, in their eyes, got their most influential player sent off.

What I cannot quite understand is the mass over-reaction to what they did at the final whistle. The way everyone is reacting you would think a major drug smuggling ring has been cracked inside the marble halls.

Let’s have a look at it again and ask ourselves exactly what the Arsenal players did.

As far as I can tell, Martin Keown’s arm on the back of the neck was about it.

The rest of it was all pushing and shoving — handbags stuff.

Played at real-time speed it looks like nothing. Of course, in slow motion, Van Nistelrooy looks like that bloke in Platoon who got shot about 30 times before finally going down.

No criticism of Van Nistelrooy by the way, for he was shoved. It just looks a lot worse in slow motion.

I hate to sound like an old fuddy duddy but, genuinely, in my day there would have been no repercussions whatsoever — and I mean none.

I remember a match I played for Spurs against Burnley. We had just beaten them in the 1962 FA Cup final and were drawn against them the following January in the third round.

The pitch at White Hart Lane was unplayable, an absolute sheet of ice, but still the game went ahead.

The moment came when Burnley goalkeeper Adam Blacklaw grabbed the ball down on his knees. For no apparent reason Terry Dyson came in and took a swing at him.

Now, just kneeling down, Adam came up to the same height at Terry so when he stood up to confront his aggressor it looked a bit of a mismatch.

Everyone piled in and it looked like a Keystone Cops episode with punches swinging as people slipped on the ice.

Myself and Jimmy McIlroy retreated to the centre circle for a chat and watched the entertainment, which went on for a good minute.

There were no bookings, no sendings off and, at the final whistle, everyone shook hands.

That is how this should be treated instead of having a line of players queuing up at Soho Square waiting to be talked down to by a bunch of blokes with a video recorder.

I do not condone violence, but the game is becoming sanitised. Even Arsene Wenger is being criticised for giving his heartfelt opinion on Sky — if he is going to be fined for doing that, we might as well all go home.

Nowadays people in the game are having to watch what they say, do, eat, drink . . .

These are not robots. These are men who grew up with a heartfelt desire to play a brilliant, passionate, physical sport with the idea to out-do, humiliate, intimidate and finally beat an opponent.

It takes men with a burning desire and often that desire spills over.

If it does then so be it, for it is a consequence of the intense nature of the game.

Sadly it is becoming a game I no longer recognise and very soon the fans will not either.

JIMMY GREAVES was talking to NEIL CUSTIS