Calling the cops to ensure a safe passage home

Games 15-17, 2023-24

Let's jump to Game 17. It was already over two weeks ago, but it's taken me that long to feel like writing about it. For the first time ever, the police were called to one of my games. If we want to put a positive spin on it, I suppose that's not bad going after 15 years.

It was a one-sided boys' U19 game of parsimonious quality but the usual lavish amounts of fouling, moaning and mutual disrespect. In the first half, there were nine cautions for 'tick-them-off' stupidities - kicking the ball away, failure to retreat at a free-kick, a square-up involving the away team's number 3 (relevant for what happens later), and several over-the-top fouls, including one by the away team's number 8. Following his yellow card, he gets into a shouting match with several of his opponents and is immediately subbed out by his coach. Thank you.

As we walk off the field at half-time, I make a loud appeal for both teams to focus on their football in the second half. I might as well have been asking them to put their their mobile phones in a locked box until they'd read and memorised the Complete Works of Johann Wolfgang Goethe. The tone of the game is no different, and although the home team is dominant, they're also dirty too - two players get sent out for five minutes for reckless fouls. When one of their forwards fouls the previously cautioned number 3 with a quarter of an hour left to play, the victim comments that if he gets fouled again, "I'm going to break someone's foot".

The amateur ref's version of VAR

Games 27-29, 2021-22

Although I despise the Video-Assistant Referee (VAR) when it cancels out goals for fractional offsides not visible to the human eye, I'm a big fan of it in certain situations of clear injustice. This is especially applicable to penalties, which are in any case inherently unjust - an innocuous foul close to the edge of the penalty area doesn't deserve the same punishment as a deliberate handball on the goal-line (but that's an argument for another day). When a game-changing decision is reversed thanks to close-up proof of an ankle-tap or a dive, then it's certainly to the benefit of football, and serves to smother at least some of the toxic anger aimed at referees for controversial calls.

Of course, amateur referees have no VAR, as we'll often sardonically point out to players in the thralls of protest and gesticulation. Sometimes, though, we have other clues and pointers when we're uncertain. On throw-ins and corner-kicks, for example, when two players have challenged for the ball and you're unsure who touched it last, you can often tell from the players' body language which way to point. If the attacker runs off to retrieve the ball and the defender runs back to the six-yard box to defend the corner-kick, then you know for sure they were the last player to touch the ball. (But if they both yell, "Corner!/Goal kick!" at the same time, then you just have to make a wild guess, while looking bold and full of conviction.)

Anyway, in the second half of a level 8 men's game, with the hosts leading 2-0, I'm caught out of position by a long punt that launches a swift counter-attack by the home team. As two players challenge for an aerial ball on the edge of the away team's penalty area (I'm probably just over the halfway line by now), the defender climbs all over the forward's back and flattens him. It's such a clear foul that the defender and forward are both laughing as they help each other back up. The question, though - was it in the area or out? Quite simply, I'm too far off the play to see for sure, but my initial reaction is to whistle and point to the penalty spot...

"I'm a ref too!" Not today, coach. Plus: foul mouths, foul play, foul weather

Games 20-22, 2021-22

A lot of tales to get through, so we'll take it match by match:

Game 20: Boys U11 cup. At half-time the home team's coach tries to pull rank on me. "I referee at [such and such] level, and that was a clear penalty we should have had." For the record, it wasn't a penalty, I was two yards away from it. Much more importantly, don't pull that 'I'm a referee too' shit when you're coaching, except to offer support. Tonight you're the coach, I'm the ref. (A colleague later looks him up online - he refs no higher than kids' soccer, so he's a liar as well as a... whatever you classify people as who pull rank in a patronising manner.)

He could do with paying more attention to his coaching. Twice I have 10-year-olds from his team insolently disputing decisions, and his goalkeeper kicks the ball away to waste time. The disease of dissent is seeping down the age groups, but there are no cards at this level so I'm left with three short, stern lectures. But those lectures need to be coming from the coach, not me. From the opponents, though, a kid comes up to me and says very humbly, "I think you may have made a mistake on that corner kick." And, very politely, I explain back that due to the nature of the deflection, I did not. Cute.

Final score: 2-2 (5-6 after penalties - the time-wasting by the keeper didn't work, his team conceded a late equaliser. Football crime doesn't pay, kids!)

Game 21: Boys U19 on a notoriously filthy field that's already hosted a game today, so it's bumpy, muddy and slippery. Best just to cut straight to the disciplinary report...

Out of nowhere, violent words and conduct. What brought *that* on?

Game 4, 2021-22

In my day job I've been editing an interview with a scientist who works in anti-doping research. The scientist estimated that the number of young men taking anabolic steroids runs into the hundreds of thousands - somewhere between half a million and 700,000. He didn't say what geographical area that estimate covers, but even if it's the entire world the numbers are still way too high. The damaging and often deadly side-effects of anabolic steroids far outweigh the 'benefit' of temporarily boosting your muscle mass.

One of the many negative side-effects of abusing steroids is a marked increase in aggressive behaviour, and I began to wonder if there's a connection between steroid consumption and the high number of young men I see suddenly lose a grip on their tempers during amateur football games. I thought about it even more following an ugly incident just before half-time in yesterday's game.

Up until then, it had been a quiet friendly between two level 8 men's teams. I like this level, because everyone can play and there are generally fewer fouls. The players are more skilful, more savvy, and better disciplined. True, the home defence complained loudly about a non-existent offside when they went 2-0 down after ten minutes, but I nipped the dissent in the bud with an early yellow, and that was it for the day. Instead of trying to play a dubious offside trap in a game with no ARs, they stopped moaning and dropped a player back into the sweeper position.

Then, with the score at 1-3 on 43 minutes, the home team's number 11 took out the away team's number 17 with a robust challenge in the centre circle. I was about five yards away, so immediately blew for the free-kick. I was ready to have a strong...

It's almost routine - a red card for violent conduct in a youth game

Game 32-33, 2019-20

"If the poor, insulted mothers only knew how many fights they were responsible for instigating on the football fields of Germany every weekend..." So began one of my paragraphs in the disciplinary report that followed Sunday's U17 boys game. 

Call someone a 'bastard', and they might get shirty, but they don't scream, "Are you saying my mum and dad weren't married when I was born?" Call someone a wanker and they might be pissed off, but they don't get right in your face and yell, "Are you implying that I indulge in acts of self-gratification? ARE YOU?" Yet call someone a son of a whore, and they immediately think that you are insulting their mother and freak out in her defence. This insult is apparently personal in a way that being a bastard or a wanker is not. I'm not saying any of these terms are acceptable on the football field (they're not), but this last one really seems to set the place on fire...

On a dark, wet night when you just don't feel like refereeing...

Game 23, 2019-20

There are some days when you don't feel like leaving the house. It's getting late on a dark Sunday afternoon and the Scottish League Cup Final's just a click away. Everyone else in the family is on the sofa in the warm living room, a plate of Christmas sweets on the coffee table alongside the remote control. It's been raining for the past three hours. And I have a 5pm kick-off - boys U19, preceded by a cycle ride up a rutted, puddle-pocked and very busy road.

Many, many people ask me, "Why do you bother?" I should point out one thing that's maybe not always clear on this blog. I love refereeing. On a good day. In that respect, I'm like almost any fan. Some days I want to write a love letter to the sport that I coach, that I ref, and that I played for over four decades. And there are days when I want to sign off with 'Dear Football, It's taken me a long time to reach this conclusion, but it's finally time we went our separate ways...' It's always enticing to imagine the potential freedom that lies on the other side of such a break. Yet the fear of a head-fucking, latter-life crisis in the resultant void always prevents me from having the guts to take that ultimate leap.

And as Mrs RT says, "You'd be back out there four weeks later anyway." And no one knows me better than Mrs RT. She lived through my three previous attempts to retire from playing, and once from coaching...

The Game from Hell

Games 31-32, 2018-19

The home team is coached by an old friend of this blog, 'Danny'. I intuit before the game that it's not going to be a quiet afternoon. When Danny's on the touchline, it never is. When we met in March I let him get to me. Today I resolve to remain absolutely calm, no matter how much shit this U19 match-up propels in my direction. By the end of the afternoon, I'm indeed in fecal heaven.

The game kicks off.

The away coach tells me before the game that when the two teams met earlier this season, Danny hounded and intimidated the young referee throughout the game. It's the same story I've heard now from three other coaches in this league. Just to recap, it's over three years since Danny and I sat in front of a disciplinary panel and he was fined €150 and told they didn't want to see his face there again. Yet to no one's surprise he's still here, a malignant cancerous growth on the city's already diseased amateur football scene. 

I gather all four coaches in the centre circle to remind them of the punishment process for irresponsible behaviour. First warning, then the second and final warning, followed by dismissal. They all nod, except for Danny. "Did you get that, Danny?" He gives a token gesture of the head, but I can't read his expression - he's wearing reflective sun-glasses to go with his hipster beard, giving off the usual air of 'I don't give a fuck'.

Neither do the teams, who go at each other right from the off. There are obviously numerous scores waiting to be settled from the first game...

When there's violence behind your back

Games 11-12, 2018-19

There are 15 minutes to go in a dirty and unpleasant U19 game. I've already shown five yellow cards and delivered several short lectures. The home side's number 6 plays a pass forward, challenged from the front by the away side's left back, the number 4. The two collide, but there's no 'after-foul', so I quickly follow the path of the ball. It's been received and controlled by the home player's team-mate when I hear cries of outrage and look back to see the number 6 and 4 squaring up and pushing each other in the chest.

"Ref, ref, he said/did this or that!"

I don't know exactly what happened, because I barely saw it out of the corner of my eye. I'm told by several home players that the away defender, number 4, kicked out at the number 6. If that was the case, and if I'd seen it, then obviously it was a straight red card. Unfortunately, I didn't see it. After I've separated the two, and listened to them both complain loudly about the other, I can only give number 4 a yellow for unsporting behaviour (pushing his opponent in the chest). I explain to the number 6 that my eyes were already on the next passage of play, so I can not punish what I didn't see. Even if I can tell from the players' reactions what almost certainly did happen.

"Your refereeing's shit!" Then a flying shirt in my face

Games 7-8, 2017-18

Anyone who's ever had a job has fantasised about just walking out and sticking a finger up to their boss or manager as they leave. It's how I feel at half-time of the fractious men's game I'm reffing on a warm Sunday afternoon. Of course, just abandoning a game at half-time would mean giving up refereeing for good, but still I'm tempted. Just to see their faces when you say, "You can referee your own fucking game, you wankers. And you're all shit at football too."

That day may come, though I'm not quite ready for it yet. Still, If I'd known how the second half  was going to play out, it might well have happened.

After 25 minutes, a
gentle appeal for quiet.

Some times you referee a team that commits lots of niggly, deliberate fouls, then complains every time you blow the whistle. It's not a loud enough complaint to draw a yellow card, rather it's a deliberate campaign to intimidate you and make you feel insecure. In this game, it's the policy of both teams. After 25 minutes, as the ball's being fetched for a corner kick, I announce loudly:

"Hey ref! Hey ref! Hey ref! It's all I'm hearing. Shut up and play the game." They duly ignore me, so in the next ten minutes...

When coaches barge in to the referee's changing room

Games 49-50, 2016-17

I coach a boys U14 team and the other week I bollocked them for not shaking the referee's hand at the end of a narrow defeat, and for not congratulating their opponents. "I was ashamed to be your coach today," I lectured. "It's easy to be a good sport when you've won. Not so easy when you've lost."

The next game they lost 1-0, and they were just as pissed off as they'd been the previous week, but most of them remembered to behave about it in a half-way sporting manner.

Lost the game? Bite your
lip and shake it anyway.

Generally, a youth team's attitude is a reflection of the way they're coached. On Sunday I was warned by my refereeing colleagues about the "particularly difficult" home team coach ahead of a boys' U17 game. Well, it couldn't be any worse than anything else I've seen this season.

Let's first rewind quickly to the night before: game 49, boys U19, featuring a visit to the same club whose U17 coach freaked out at me last weekend. This gentleman's team was just finishing their game as I arrived, and he decided to invite himself into my changing room to talk about last Saturday's red card against one of his players for fighting.

Three red cards and some issues of racial awareness

Games 40-41, 2016-17

Some days, this seems like time
better spent than refereeing. 

Sometimes I get assigned to a game out of town, and when I look at the laughably christened Fair Play Table, my heart sinks a little and I think I know why I'm being given the treat of a longer trip. Yesterday I was sent to officiate between teams who, in the disciplinary rankings, were third bottom (the home team) and bottom (away). This is in a league of very few angels, where you have to be almost conscientiously deviant to hit last place.

I presume that the idea is to ship an unknown ref in for a potentially explosive game, then let him flee the scene never to be heard of again in that neck of the woods. It's true there are some players you encounter on a weekend afternoon you'd might not want to meet on the street late on a week day night. I've retained a clear image in my head of the player who threatened to break my neck last autumn. You know, just in case.

I talk with the referee who's just officiated the game before me, between the reserve teams of the same two clubs. How was it, I ask. He shrugs. "Well," he says of the away team. "They're..." And he names their nationality, like it's understood...

Trying hard to avoid a straight red card

Game 35, 2016-17

Get the message,
get the t-shirt

First clash for points after the winter break, and it's Third v First in a boys' U17 league. As always, I check the disciplinary records of both teams. The first-placed team have only accrued eight cautions all season. The home team have been far less shy at disturbing the referee.

In the refs' changing room, I talk to the lad who's just finished whistling the U13 game before me. By coincidence, he plays for the second-placed team in the U17 league. When they played today's hosts, he tells me, "they tried to kick us off the park".

Does that mean I go into the game expecting trouble from the home team? Not at all - just as the game starts at 0-0, so does the punishment card. It does no harm, though, to be aware of a team's reputation...