My tipping point, and a call for positive action to protect amateur referees

Game 33, 2021-22

For five and a half seasons this blog has been documenting abusive, insulting and disrespectful behaviour in and around the city where it referees amateur and youth football. At some point, though, merely describing what's going on - and it's not just in my games, it's universal - is insufficient. The time has conclusively come to take a stance. 

Myself and a small group of local referees are working on a list of demands and proposed actions to try and tackle the endemic problems in amateur football that have escalated to the point where every weekend brings some form of trouble, even in the quietest games. What can be done to curb the dissent, the tantrums, the threats and the all-round prevalence of unpleasant attitude and total lack of sporting enjoyment? One thing is clear - posters saying 'Respect!' and 'Thanks, ref!' are not doing the job, whatever their grandiose, committee-endorsed intentions.

After dozens of negative and hair-raising experiences, my personal tipping point came a week ago. A month back, I'd refereed a boys' U17 match which ended with a number of players on the losing team insulting me and screaming at me after the final whistle. I walked through the cacophony without reacting, but noted the numbers of the players and duly wrote up a disciplinary report that same Saturday evening when I would rather have been doing something more relaxing (they have to be submitted "within 24 hours" of the final whistle). As usual, I heard nothing back. The team in question didn't play for another three weeks. But when they did play, all three players that I'd named in the disciplinary report were in the starting line-up. There had been no punishments at all for 16-year-olds screaming indiscriminately at a referee, frustrated at their loss in a game they'd expected to win (with no intervention from their coach - a fellow referee, by the way).

Even on quiet days, negativity's the norm

Games 31-32, 2021-22

A few weeks back I wrote about a generally toxic boys' U19 game where the home team passed up the chance to be good sports by admitting that a goal scored by their opponents had actually gone in (but back out through a hole in the net). Later, one of their players received a straight red card for violent conduct. It was the team's last game. They withdrew from that league a week later and all their results were annulled.

It was no surprise. The trainers seemed indifferent to the team they were coaching, and that was reflected in the players' attitude. Numerous U19 teams drop out in the course of any given season because there's not much more to play for - no more promotions to a higher level, for example. Even the most deluded players have realised by now that they're not going to play at a professional or even semi-pro level, while the distractions of exams, relationships and the imminent prospect of possibly leaving home and starting a new life all mean that football is pushed down their priority list. Why bother showing up for another six months in a losing team with no sense of spirit or togetherness when you can quit now and enjoy a few extra free Saturdays...

The Art of Instant Conflict Management - one ref's approach

Game 30, 2021-22

An elderly spectator comes up to me at half-time as I'm on my way to the dressing room. That's not always a good thing, and after today's testy first 45 minutes I'm expecting a strong opinion - there have been two penalties for handball offences, four yellow cards, and a time penalty for a player on the home team, during which the away team took advantage of its extra man to equalise. Score: 2-2. But the gentleman only has encouraging words: "When you took the two players off to one side there for a talk, that was great - well done."

He's referring to a typical scene that seems to play out now in every game, regardless of level or age group (with the exception of the U11/U12 games I recently reffed). Two players go for the ball, one of them commits a foul, the other has something to say about it, the fouler makes a comment back, and then they're both squaring up and pushing each other in the chest. WHO FACKIN' WANTS SOME???? And then comes the bandy-legged old ref with his whistle, ordering them both off to one side and on to the naughty step. I want them to feel like this is a visit to the headmaster's office. The good thing is that my speech is so well honed by now that I don't even need to think about it.

The first task, though, is to get one or both of them to shut up. Just like in the school yard, they want to let you know that it's the other guy's fault. "Ref, he said, he did blah blah blah." I interrupt this infantile babble with, "Quiet, I'm the only one talking here!" Then off I go: "Are you both off your heads?" (I like to act a little outraged, like this is the first - rather than the 500th. - time I've seen such a scene on a football field.) "You realise this is a football match, right? So make a decision, do you want to stay on here and play football, or do you want to act like idiots? If it's the latter, you can get on with your moronic macho posturing in the club-house for all I care. On here, we're playing football." By now, both players should be nodding. I stop talking, whip the yellow card out of my left pocket, and raise it twice as the concluding choreography to my short one-act play.