In the mood to chat with the crowd

Game 53, 2021-22

Yellow fields, not cards (pic: RT)

I decide to take my bike on the train to game 53, and then cycle the rest of the way at the other end, probably about 12 miles. I'm on the platform ready to go at half past noon (for a 3.15 kick-off) when all the trains disappear from the departures board, and all of a sudden there's nothing running in either direction. There's no public information, but on my phone app the trains have also been struck off. With no idea how long this will last, I decide to cycle to the match instead. It's a 40-kilometre ride.

Around half way there, pedalling into a relentless head wind, another app's telling me that I'll only arrive at the club two minutes before kick-off. I stop and call them and ask to delay the start for 15 minutes. They're jovial and co-operative and tell me not to worry. Still, focusing on just actually making it there takes my mind off the game. Plus, there have been a host of non-football matters this week that have put any thoughts about refereeing completely out of my head. By the time we finally kick off on a patchy, uneven pitch where the grass is too long, I'm completely relaxed about what may or may not happen around me today. I'm just happy to have made it here at all.

Refs are not above the game. Any game

Games 51-52, 2021-22

Everybody's game (Pic: RT)

I spend enough time on here complaining about the behaviour of players, coaches and spectators alike. Many referees, though, don't help much either when it comes to showing our profession in a good light. From my perspective as a coach, here's what I often see from the touchline:

* poor dress code, giving off a 'couldn't care less' impression. Tracksuit bottoms when it's neither really wet nor cold. Short socks, socks rolled down or wrong socks altogether. Shabby, polyester jersey from the 90s - no excuse for that as new kit's not expensive, and most clubs here pay for their refs' gear. Refs shouldn't be wearing caps, scarves or gloves unless the weather's really extreme. 

* absent communication. I coach a U11 team. They're not hard to talk to - they're still in the pre-adolescent phase of being curious, cheeky and cheerful. They love jokes, for example. They don't mind clear instructions or explanations on, say, foul throws or where to stand on free-kicks, or even why you gave a particular decision. Really, any kind of human interaction to show that we're all in this game together.

Back to reffing (and wanting to pack it all in)

Games 48-50, 2021-22

I've been out for over a month due to travel, illness and injury (Game 48, which I hobbled through following a hamstring strain on 20 minutes - "You weren't any slower than most of the refs we get," according to the home team), and in this time Fifa has instituted a new rule that the side in arrears is allowed to 1. constantly moan at the referee and 2. blame the referee should the game end in defeat. This has always been an unspoken law of football, so I'm pleased that it has now apparently been set in Zürich's cold, black ink. Both losing teams this weekend are right on top of it.

One man and his dog, later
heard to bark, "The ref's shit!"

Game 49 is a level 10 men's game in the city on a cool Friday evening. The home team has a reputation for having mastered the gifts of ref-targeting rhetoric, but I've never had a problem with them for one simple reason - up until tonight, they've always been the winning team. They're a lovely bunch of lads when things are going their way. But the psychologists among you will be staggered to hear that their behaviour takes a dive when the scoreboard's down. The tactics then play out as follows:

* Lost out in a fair but competitive fight for the ball? It can only be because your opponent fouled you. But the shyster masquerading as a neutral match official has failed to give it! Let him know what you think about that, and make sure you use plenty of hectic gestures and a raised voice just in case he's too dim to get the message.

Anger. Everywhere. Especially about throw-ins

Games 46-47, 2021-22

Everyone's mad about something these days. The more trivial the better. Every Saturday there are people marching through the streets of my city loudly protesting about having to wear a mask in some public places to help stop vulnerable people becoming infected with a somewhat deadly virus. In times of a brutal, senseless war and rampant, earth-destroying climate change, this is the issue these citizens are apparently mad about. All in the name of 'freedom', that vague, abused and facile justification for all kinds of entitled, small-minded, attention-seeking twattery.

On Saturday morning - on the pitch next to where I'm coaching - I see a 10-year-old goalkeeper get mad at the player who's just scored past him. He runs out of his penalty area and pushes the forward over from behind. The ref makes him apologise, which he does with very bad grace. His coach doesn't even pull him out of the game. The kid still looks mad, even after he's supposedly said sorry. Where are his Mum or Dad to give him a proper bollocking, seeing as how his coach is not concerned? Why did the ref not send him off the field to think about what he just did? Which, just to recap, was to assault an opponent in a U11 game. What will he take away from this experience other than that it's okay to get mad and physically assault your opponent when he scores against you?

When a Dad comes marching towards you after the final whistle...

Games 43-45, 2021-22

Yep, we know.

Here comes Dad. As I walk towards my changing room at the end of a very competitive boys' U13 game, I go for the direct route - avoiding the open gate where the bellicose, over-motivated parents are still gathered, and opting to duck under the fence instead. But Dad is in the midst of a determined and purposeful stride, and unless I break into an undignified trot, he's going to cut me off before I reach the changing room door. I've certainly nothing to run away from, so let's have it, Dad, what's on your tiny little mind?

"Can you give me an explanation why you gave our number 3 a five-minute time penalty?" That sounds like a reasonable request on paper, but the hectoring tone, I already know, means that Dad won't be happy with the explanation, he just wants to Have His Say.

"Sure," I say. I wait a couple of seconds to gather my thoughts, and in this short time Dad demands, "Well then, what is it?" Bear in mind, that Dad's kid's team has already won the game, 2-0. Though maybe he's still peeved that I read the riot act to the whole line of parents by exhorting them to calm down, and pointing out that the game wasn't being staged especially to mirror their genetic genius.

When a player’s sailing close to a red card

Game 42, 2021-22

“You wanted to kick me out of the game, didn’t you?” That’s not a quote from my latest match, but it’s one I’ve heard before. In fact, it’s from El Arbitro, a slightly dated but nonetheless absorbing documentary you can watch on YouTube that follows the now retired Spanish referee Miguel Pérez Lasa as he officiates a pair of La Liga games at the tail-end of the 2007-08 season. The words are yelled at him by Villareal’s defender Joan Capdevila when Pérez shows him a second yellow card in the final minutes of a 2-0 defeat at Sevilla. 

Capdevila could not be further off the mark. Pérez Lasa explains in the documentary how “I like to use the captains to warn players when they have a yellow card and are close to getting another one.” As the players are preparing to come out for the second half, the referee can be heard telling Sevilla’s captain Dani Alves to “calm [Federico] Fazio down”. The Argentine midfielder had already seen yellow and was looking like a candidate for dismissal. 

“A ref must know how to use the cards,” says Pérez Lasa. “You see the game heating up, so you have to calm the players down and let them know they have the wrong attitude.” Villarreal’s Capdevila first sees yellow in the 80th minute for a vehement, in-your-face protest about a penalty non-call. A few minutes later he’s lucky to avoid a second caution for sarcastic laughter and a dismissive gesture when Pérez Lasa awards Sevilla a penalty. And then he’s finally off for a blatant and deliberate handball in stoppage time that prevents a promising attack (Capdevila tries to claim it hit him on the knee). All unnecessary offences the player himself could easily have avoided, and nothing whatsoever to do with the referee wanting to ‘kick him out of the game’.

Two 'friendlies', two mass confrontations

Sign at Sunday's game: "Be fair to your opponent - be fair to the ref." LOL! 

Games 38-41, 2021-22

Remember last week when I asked if there was a change in the air, just because a couple of coaches expressly thanked me for turning up? What an idiot.

Let's cut straight to game 41, between two men's Level 9 teams. Even for a partially deaf man who has left his hearing aids in the changing room because of the heavy rain, the away team is jarringly loud throughout the first half. Their coach does not for a single second desist from bellowing. The players themselves mainly yell at each other (or back at the coach), occasionally at the home team (when fouled), and on one occasion at me (yellow card. Or is it the yeller card? Boom-tish). Eventually, the captain appeals to his team, "Can we all stop yelling at each other? Let's be positive! Why can't any of you actually enjoy playing football?" I offer him a short gesture of applause, but his team-mates completely ignore him.

Before the game, we stood for a minute's silence at the request of the away team on account of a bereavement. Sixty seconds to reflect upon our mortality, and to appreciate the privilege of still being alive and fit enough to be part of the game. To place a Sunday afternoon sporting event into its true perspective. To consider that we might enjoy playing football, to cite the desperate appeal from the away team's captain. How fondly I look back at this quiet moment over the next 89 minutes.

The time is perfect for radical reform

Games 34-37, 2021-22

Is change in the air? Coaches keep thanking me for showing up to referee their games. On Saturday, one coach was particularly grateful that I'd turned out "in this awful weather". Several spectators have been thanking me too. It makes me wonder if the state FA has issued a circular to all its clubs during the winter break, reminding them of the referee shortage and asking them to be extra nice. Nothing wrong with that, though such reminders don't tend to have much stamina.

Meanwhile, myself and four fellow referees took the time off during the winter break to take stock and draft our manifesto. The response from our referees' association was nothing but positive, and genuinely enthusiastic that we cared enough to go to so much effort. Outlining concrete proposals, rather than just moaning, has turned out to be the best approach. Not all these ideas fall under our refereeing body's remit, but the idea is to fire up a discussion and have them put their own modified list of suggestions to the state FA. Much of our focus is on the role of youth team coaches, because that's where the problems begin - the consequence of bad education. Here's a summary of the main points:

- an intensive campaign to protect all young and newly qualified referees from abuse, inspired by the Worcestershire FA's #seemysocks initiative. Goal: to improve awareness among clubs, and to improve long term coaching and mentoring of young refs

- transparency throughout the disciplinary process so that referees know poor and disgraceful conduct has been duly punished

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...