One of several theories as to why Vincent Van Gogh cut off his ear is that this was an insane attempt to draw attention to his unrecognised genius. If so, it did not work.
Like so many great artists down the years, Van Gogh did not become fully appreciated until after he died in poverty, in his case by committing suicide at the age of 37.
It is to be hoped that Frank Lampard does not resort to such measures.
Once again, the brilliance of this young master has gone unrewarded by those who presume to sit in judgment of his talent.
In a sublime moment of power, grace and inspiration, it was Lampard who won the 2009 FA Cup final for Chelsea.
Yet the Man of the Match honour went to his team’s left back.
This is not to say that Ashley Cole did not play well; he gave a display of the highest quality. But there was more than one dazzling brush stroke to Lampard’s virtuoso performance on Saturday.
While that decisive goal was a work of art - Lampard turning like Nureyev and regaining his balance before sweeping a majestic shot high into the net - the entire Wembley turf was his canvas.
He coloured it with surging runs, gallant tackles and, above all, exquisite passes, one of which opened the path to Chelsea’s first-half equaliser.
Artistry does not always come reinforced by box-to-box work rate, but Lampard combines those qualities to more profound effect than any other footballer in this country.
Then, in addition to dictating the play and dominating matches, he scores more goals from midfield than many a striker. Twenty or more in each of the past four seasons.
Last year, his 20th came against Manchester United in Europe’s Champions League final. This May, it has come in the FA Cup final against Everton.
As Chelsea’s departing caretaker manager Guus Hiddink marvelled: ‘He delivers the turning point in big games so often. This is the trademark of the world-class player. This was a typical goal from him, not easy, but perfect and beautiful.’
Yet, when his fellow footballers came to select the PFA team of the year, not only did they leave him out, they neglected even to nominate him as a candidate. Shame on them.
Lampard’s peers should know better than the fans, better even than the professional
critics who have a tendency to damn him with faint praise, if not overlook him completely.
Shame, too, on all who booed Lampard when his England managers failed so unaccountably to devise a system which could accommodate both himself and Steven Gerrard.
Lampard’s response has been to keep playing every match - rotation to him means getting around every corner of the pitch, not being rested from games in case he is tired - and keep scoring vital goals.
Good behaviour is rooted in a decent home and it is there that Lampard gets the appreciation he prizes most.
Just as he dedicated goals to his mother when she died, so he celebrated this FA Cup winner by imitating the jig round a corner flag performed by his father, Frank Snr, when he scored the clincher for West Ham in the 1980 semi-final replay.
Everton, the losers on both occasions, could be forgiven for wondering what they have
done to provoke the Lampards.
Yet manager David Moyes - who has worked wonders of his own on a restricted budget - praised Frank Jnr as ‘a great player who wins big matches - this one included, even though we talked a lot about trying to contain him’.
Lampard is the envy of other managers. Jose Mourinho makes no secret of wishing he could have taken with him from Chelsea to Inter Milan ‘the best player in the world’.
Sir Alex Ferguson calls him ‘exceptional’ and ‘outstanding’.
For Chelsea, as Carlo Ancelotti becomes their sixth manager in five years, the future would offer even less stability without Lampard in his 30-year-old prime.
Yet, while one of football’s multimillionaires is neither living in poverty nor liable to commit suicide, the world at large may not grasp what an artist they have been watching until after he has gone. Not even if he cuts off an ear.
