Another psychologist said of Suarez that an adult bite represents regression born out of frustration. "It's a way of evacuating your frustration, even if it's not the most elegant way. If you do it several times, in critical moments, it means it can become compulsory, almost obsessive." Yet another compared Suarez's behaviour to the unfettered emotions of a three- or four-year-old and said he needed therapy for the deep-seated underlying reasons for biting.
Now, look, let's have a moment with reality, shall we? Let's assume Chiellini had angered Suarez with a bit of gamesmanship or roughhouse tactics earlier in the match. The Independent newspaper has published photographs showing Suarez shaped to bite Chiellini a year earlier, when the two countries met in the 2013 Confederations Cup, so it may be a long-standing issue. Whatever. The point is a punch or kick or similar forms of assault would almost certainly be spotted by the officials.
The ref didn't see Suarez's bite. In my opinion, that's why he does it - an attempt to dish out punishment without being sent off.
That's it. QED. It doesn't have a lot to do with his childhood, obsessive frustration-releasing or psychological regression. It's cynical and premeditated.
You still suspect there's something not quite right in the old mental department. Suarez had fang-form when he played in the Netherlands and his chomp on Chelsea's Branislav Ivanovic in the Premier League saw him earn a ban for 17 games across the two incidents. So he'd expect scrutiny of his incisors to be intense.
Maybe he's just an unlovely guy. His dance of joy when Ghana missed a penalty in the World Cup four years ago after Suarez deliberately handballed on the line to stop what would have been the winning goal sticks unpleasantly in the memory. A celebration of cheating. He missed the World Cup semifinal against the Netherlands for that (Uruguay lost 3-2, ho ho ho). After the Chiellini incident, Suarez fell to the ground, hamming it up as if he was the victim - a facile attempt to evade responsibility, a man at home with deception.
But he has bitten himself badly this time. He's gone from the World Cup. He's one of the best strikers in the world but who'd have him if, as the psychologists claim, he can't help himself and munches on more players, earning more time off the field? Sponsors are recoiling. His best days seem gone.
He's unfortunate in that he has prominent teeth anyway - he looks as if he could eat an apple through a tennis racquet - and has been lampooned on the internet as Jaws, a vampire and Hannibal Lecter. Fifa's rules probably didn't allow them to toss him out of the game but, perhaps, they can bring in some Suarez rules: all the opposing team have to have rabies shots, Suarez gets wormed and has to take Bob Martin tablets ahead of the game, and he has to wear a double mouthguard - the only man in world football to wear one to protect other players. Or chuck him some raw meat ahead of a game, maybe a leech marinated in garlic.
His legacy won't be his talent. It'll be those jokes that follow him out of this World Cup, the best of which was probably the guy who tweeted he'd downloaded Suarez's best moments in football. It was only three mega bites.
