There have been times when Ian Wright's surname has seemed entirely inappropriate.

Mr Colourful might have been a better choice. Mr Controversial would certainly have fitted his character. Others might suggest he should simply have been christened Ian Wrong for an action-packed professional career, which began at the age of 22 when he signed for Crystal Palace back in 1985.

Which is why the announcement that he has received an MBE in the New Year's Honours List will be greeted with as much disdain as acclaim.

If footballers received prizes for spitting and making obscene gestures, Wright would be at the front of the queue.

If footballers received honours for insulting linesmen and referees, Wright's trophy cabinet would be fuller than Santa's sack.

If footballers received a bonus every time they were involved in a bust-up resulting in a misconduct charge, Wright would be British soccer's wealthiest player.

In a decade of dishonour, he has been suspended for punching Tottenham's David Howells and been forced to apologise for hurtful comments to linesman Richard Saunders, a thalidomide victim, and, in general, to referees for calling them ''incompetent little Hitlers''.

He admitted challenging former Manchester United goalkeeper Peter Schmeichel ''maliciously'' at Highbury, was fined for spitting at a female steward at QPR and barging into a male steward at Coventry.

He was questioned by police after shouting at Arsenal fans through the dressing room window in the wake of a 3-1 home defeat against Blackburn and, in a highly publicised incident, escaped action after calling former Tottenham and Luton manager David Pleat a ''pervert''.

With Wright, he speaks from his mouth, but the suspicion is that his brain is not always in the same vicinity, and so the catalogue of bust-ups, bans and tantrums that forced him to seek anger management counselling goes on.

Quite how that inauspicious little lot squares with ''for services to Association Football'' is something of a mystery.

One can only imagine that the powers-that-be have turned an eye as blind as Wright would have you believe belong to most Premiership referees.

However, along with the dishonour, there is a roll of honour, and in terms of pure footballing ability, there is no doubting Wright's striking skills were par excellence.

He signed for Arsenal for a record #2.5m in 1991 and soon proved his worth, finishing the 1992 season as the club's leading scorer and the following year was a vital member of Arsenal's Coca-Cola Cup winning side.

Key to his dynamic game throughout a career, which is in its twilight days at Celtic, has always been his vibrant movement and lightning reflexes, though, curiously, he never displayed his best form at international level in 31 caps.

For Arsenal, however, he was without peer, in 1997 breaking Cliff Bastin's record of 178 goals for the club, a record that had stood for more than 50 years, and, it is true, former colleagues, opponents and fans have been generous in their admiration and tributes.

''Ian is the best finisher I have ever played with,'' says former Arsenal striker Alan Smith. ''Gary Lineker was an unbelievable player and had a better record for England, but in terms of snapping up half-chances, there's nobody better than Ian.''

Former Arsenal manager Terry Neill is equally effusive. ''Ian is nothing short of magnificent,'' he says. ''He is a bubbly character who loves life and gives it his best shot in everything he does. He wears his heart on his sleeve and I love him.''

To the Highbury fans, meanwhile, Wright is still an icon.

''My abiding memory is on the last day of the old North Bank terrace at Highbury,'' says Ian McPherson, of Arsenal Independent Supporters' Association.

''He needed a hat trick to pip Lineker to the Golden Shoe award, and he picked up the ball from halfway and showed all his determination in scoring an amazing goal to clinch it. What a way to say goodbye to the North Bank.''

Married to wife Deborah, the mother of his son Stacey and daughter Bobbie-Lee, Wright is a father-of-three from previous relationships. Wrighty - as he is known in soccer parlance - does not do things by halves.

He once famously asserted that if he was in charge of the Olympics, he would abolish the bronze and silver medals.

''The only reason people are in the race is to win gold,'' he says. ''So what's the point of the other two?''

On this occasion we can assume he will make an exception. Surely, not even Wrighty could expect a Knighthood.