There is an art to saying sorry.

You have to say it at the right time, without seeming to be forced or acting in desperation, and with no buts or ifs. You have to avoid what's known as the "non-apology apology", in which you say: "I'm sorry if you feel that way, but actually I didn't do anything wrong." In other words, you have to mean it and show contrition.

Footballer Ched Evans's apology last week scored a big fat zero on the "convincing sorriness" scale. You can read it on the website chedevans.com, which also declares that he was "wrongly convicted of rape".

The convicted rapist's apology begins by saying how sad he is that he has not been signed by Oldham Athletic, while blaming the "mob tactics" of those who put pressure on the club's sponsors, then goes on to declare: "Whilst I continue to maintain my innocence, I wish to make it clear that I wholeheartedly apologise for the effect that that night in Rhyl has had on many people, especially the woman concerned."

We're used to such statements, mainly from politicians, or others trying to protect themselves from litigation while at the same time giving the impression that they care.

One problem is that it's almost impossible to wholeheartedly apologise when at the same time you're still saying "I didn't do it". And, though Evans is not denying what happened on that sordid night in Rhyl, he is saying that it should not be classified as rape.

By declaring his innocence, he is falling in line with his supporters who tweeted using the hashtag #shesaidyes. And this "she said yes" is the heart of the controversy. This story isn't just about Ched Evans, but also about all those who support him. It's about the gulf between different views on rape and consent.

The uproar around Evans isn't really about whether a convicted rapist should be allowed to return to his work - in the interests of rehabilitation, he should - but about the attitudes revealed in football culture. Many of the people who want him back in football have seemed more keen on postulating his innocence than talking about forgiveness and rehabilitation (and that includes Gordon Taylor of the Professional Footballers' Association, who last week, in a comment of stunning tactlessness, declared that Evans "wouldn't have been the first person to be found guilty, maintained their innocence and been proved right. We know what happened with Hillsborough").

Evans's supporters, like him, are refusing to believe in a culture and law that demands consent to sex be explicit and fully conscious. Not for them the belief, stated by the trial judge, that: "The complainant was 19 years of age and was extremely intoxicated. As the jury have found, she was in no condition to have sexual intercourse. You must have realised that."

Evans appears to be in denial. Though his application for appeal has been turned down, he still behaves as if this were a miscarriage of justice and he had a chance of overturning it. And while his case is currently being reviewed by the Criminal Cases Review Commission, this is a notoriously difficult route for those seeking to overturn their convictions.

But the biggest problem is that the apology comes too late. For months, commentators have complained that his lack of remorse is unforgivable. "If Ched Evans had shown even a modicum of regret," wrote Rowan Pelling in The Daily Telegraph, "or an iota of understanding of how it's despicable to share your pal's conquest like a bag of chips, I might begin to feel he's capable of change."

Even as the footballer apologised on Thursday, the "official Ched Evans" website created by his supporters - part of a campaign funded by his father's girlfriend - remained up and running, complete with CCTV footage of the night, labelled: "View the complainant entering the Premier Inn and judge for yourself."

The woman isn't recognisable in the footage. But surely anyone genuinely concerned for the suffering of a young woman who has reportedly been forced to change her name and move five times after being identified online by Twitter trolls, would have asked for some of these pages to be taken down.

I've no problem with the signing of Evans to a football club - though it would have been better had he waited until the official end of his sentence, as he is in fact only out on licence. Nor, though I do believe footballers are role models, have I an issue with the notion of him continuing to work in the business.

But he would have to show contrition, genuine acknowledgement that what he did was wrong - and recognition of why consent is crucial and why a quick "Yes" from a drunken girl can never be that.

In other words, he would have had to become, through his demonstrable remorse, a positive role model. Saying sorry in the right way - with an apology that was genuinely wholehearted - would have made all the difference.