“Ref, WHY WON'T YOU TALK TO ME?”

Game 48, 2022-23

Boys’ U19. A messy game. Tons of yellows for all the usual shite (fouling, howling, hacking), three time-penalties, and two reds. So much to process, so let’s just look at the two dismissals.

I check the two teams’ recent form and disciplinary record. The game’s a dead rubber, but that doesn’t mean it will be a quiet night. The away team won last week 8-0, but had a player sent off close to the end of the game when they were already eight goals to the good. “How did that happen?” I ask their coach before I start my warm-up routine.

“Ah, yes, that’s our number 10. I subbed him out and he said something to the referee, but I’m not sure what.” I say that at least he won’t be playing today, because a straight red card means a suspension. “Actually, he is playing today. The referee never filed a disciplinary report.” (Cheers for that, dear colleague.) Well, I respond, please make sure to let him know that I won’t be tolerating any such antics. The coach assures me that the player will be on his best behaviour, though who knows how good that best behaviour is.

At half-time of an already dirty spectacle (five cautions in the first 45 minutes, four of them to the away team), the number 10 is subbed in. He’s inconspicuous until the 70th. minute, when he’s fouled and tripped while dribbling the ball in his own half. He’s ignited, so stands straight back up and shoves his opponent to the ground. Borderline red, but I give him the five-minute time penalty. He’s outraged at the punishment and tells me so. I tell him just to be quiet and leave the field. When he does, he immediately gets into a blazing row with his coach.

Three minutes later and the number 10 is back, walking defiantly across the pitch on his way to the changing rooms, presumably to get back at his coach and to deliberately sabotage his own team’s chances – they’re defending a narrow lead. I blow the whistle to stop play and show him the red card (next bookable offence after the time-penalty is an automatic red, regardless of the infringement). He stops in his tracks and starts yelling at me. “Go on, write me up in a report, why don’t you?” He yells this several times as one of his team-mates tries to get him to leave the field. “Piss off!” another one of his players shouts at him. Strictly speaking, that’s a red card too, but I’m too much in sympathy with the sentiments to punish him.

Meanwhile, the home team’s right back has been fouling like a debutant puppy on a bowling green, and in the 82nd. minute he gets a long overdue yellow card for his detrimental play. Deep into injury time, with his team 2-1 down, he fouls an opponent shielding the ball in the corner of the field by the corner flag. When I blow for a free-kick, he lets me know loud and long what he thinks of that particular decision. But I’m about to blow for full-time, so I don’t bother sending him out for the time-penalty.

When I blow the final whistle, he’s the first to come up to me, shake my hand, and say, “Thanks, but badly reffed.” Again, I let it go, it’s been a long evening. His coach then shakes my hand and says (sincerely), “Thanks. Well reffed.” His defender turns around and says, “No, it wasn’t, he was terrible. He should quit refereeing.” Ah well, I tried to be lenient, but that was obviously a mistake. Here, have a red card as a going home present.

The red card prompts the defender to offload even more opinions in my direction. Then he waits for me outside the changing room and starts shouting at me as I go past. “Referee, why did you show me a red card? Referee, WHY WON’T YOU TALK TO ME?”

Oh, I wonder. Maybe it’ll be a little clearer once you’ve read the disciplinary report.

Final score: 1-2 (10 x yellow, 3 x time-penalties, 2 x red)

My book 'Reffing Hell: Stuck in the Middle of a Game Gone Wrong' documents six years of whistling torment, tears and occasional ecstasy. Please buy a copy direct from Halcyon if you would like to support this blog and independent publishing.