gerd
Retired Footballer
This seems appropriate to start this thread.
Flags in hand, a group of wheezing scribes of questionable fitness are "crabbing" their way left and right along the sideline of an indoor football pitch at St George's Park, opulent home to the National Football Centre in Burton-on-Trent. As the verb suggests, the exercise involves shuttling sideways at speed in order to keep up with and constantly monitor play, while simultaneously providing a moving target for any projectiles that might be raining down from the crowd behind. The ability to "crab" is an essential skill for any match official and one this reporter has since adopted to maximise efficiency while shopping in supermarkets that are long of aisle.
On the whistle of former Premier League referee Dermot Gallagher we come to an abrupt halt, at which point Roger Vaughan, the FA's National Referee Manager, shows a card to signal a pre-arranged hypothetical situation and invites us to flag accordingly. Confusion and uncertainty reigns. Our flags go up, some authoritatively, others tentatively and almost all incorrectly. Gallagher is appalled. "It's not so easy, is it?" he barks, scanning the motley bunch standing sheepishly before him showcasing the surprising large number of mistakes it is apparently possible to make while signalling for offside.
Gallagher and Vaughan, along with Professional Game Match Officials Coach Steve Dunn, are ostensibly on hand to highlight the behind-the-scenes work referees and their assistants undertake to hone their skills, but the subtext is fairly obvious. Given the increasing levels of extreme scrutiny and poisonous abuse to which football's much-maligned whistle-blowers are regularly subjected, they clearly just want to be, if not loved, merely appreciated.
"We saw within a couple of decisions that people think it's so easy, but I think you found out very quickly that it isn't," says Gallagher after a session in which the myriad complexities of flag-waving, yellow and red card dissemination and whistle management had been explained and practised. "By the end of the half-hour it was amazing how much had been picked up and taken on board. You were a better referee at the end than you were at the start, because we stopped, we had a little chat, we involved the players and we learned from it. That's what refereeing is about: what you take out of today, you bring into tomorrow."
Having begun in the classroom with an overview of the inaugural FA Carlsberg Referee Awards, launched to recognise and reward the contributions match officials make to grassroots football, the highlight of a fascinating day was a You Are The Ref-style interactive session, in which clips of contentious incidents from assorted Premier League matches were played, analysed and discussed from the referee's perspective.
Notable mainly for the monotonous regularity with which assorted Stoke players and Vincent Kompany seemed to feature, the most intriguing incident was the much-discussed tackle on Jack Wilshere for which the Manchester City defender was dismissed by Mike Dean during Manchester City's 2-0 win over Arsenal last month, only for the decision to be subsequently overturned.
"From the position the referee sees it, there's no doubt in my mind it's a red card," explains Gallagher. "All day long it's a red card. But when you see it sideways on, if he'd knocked that ball out of play you'd give a throw-in. That's how difficult that decision was. But the referee has one look from one angle, so I think if you're going to criticise him for a decision, at least criticise him from the angle he's looking at. Don't get five different angles and just beat him up, because that's not fair."
Fairness, or the lack of it with which officials are judged by pundits is a source of exasperation for Gallagher, who insinuates they, rather than craftier footballers playing at increasingly high speed, are to blame for the problems encountered by referees. "I think refereeing is getting more difficult in that it's analysed so much," he explains. "I think that everybody now wants utopia, which is impossible. You look at decisions and you go 'Yeah, I'd give that', then you see it from a different angle … The referee doesn't have that luxury, he or she sees it from one angle only."
A personal pet peeve as far as officiating is concerned is the common misconception among high-profile pundits, commentators and football fans that goalline officials – "the blokes with the wands" – do not do anything, because they are never seen to do anything. I offer Gallagher a platform to disabuse them of this notion and confirm that these officials are in fact in constant discussion with the referee via radio mic and ear-piece, a more nuanced if less ostentatious means of communication than goalline semaphore.
"The problem with them is exactly as you say," he explains. "They are there to assist and they're in communication with the referee and the trouble with that communication is that the referee hears it but we don't. There's no tangible evidence to say they've got involved – they don't raise a flag, they don't raise their arms. I was back home in Ireland a couple of weeks ago and one of the guys who stands behind the goal for the Irish FA was explaining to me how involved they are and I was absolutely mesmerised, but when you watch on TV you don't see that because it's all verbal."
For all it's occupational hazards – the scrutiny, the brickbats, the poisonous abuse – Gallagher is clearly passionate about refereeing and claims to have had only one unpleasant day during his career as a match official. "That was someone else's misfortune; I refereed the game where poor old David Busst broke his leg," he says, recalling the sickening career-ender suffered by the Coventry City defender in a match at Old Trafford in April 1996. "But anyone who can say they went to work for 22 years and only had one day has got the most brilliant job in the world."
A brilliant job, but an undeniably difficult one … something more football folk might learn to appreciate once they've crabbed a mile in the latest object of their derision's shoes.
By Barry Glendenning of the Guardian
Flags in hand, a group of wheezing scribes of questionable fitness are "crabbing" their way left and right along the sideline of an indoor football pitch at St George's Park, opulent home to the National Football Centre in Burton-on-Trent. As the verb suggests, the exercise involves shuttling sideways at speed in order to keep up with and constantly monitor play, while simultaneously providing a moving target for any projectiles that might be raining down from the crowd behind. The ability to "crab" is an essential skill for any match official and one this reporter has since adopted to maximise efficiency while shopping in supermarkets that are long of aisle.
On the whistle of former Premier League referee Dermot Gallagher we come to an abrupt halt, at which point Roger Vaughan, the FA's National Referee Manager, shows a card to signal a pre-arranged hypothetical situation and invites us to flag accordingly. Confusion and uncertainty reigns. Our flags go up, some authoritatively, others tentatively and almost all incorrectly. Gallagher is appalled. "It's not so easy, is it?" he barks, scanning the motley bunch standing sheepishly before him showcasing the surprising large number of mistakes it is apparently possible to make while signalling for offside.
Gallagher and Vaughan, along with Professional Game Match Officials Coach Steve Dunn, are ostensibly on hand to highlight the behind-the-scenes work referees and their assistants undertake to hone their skills, but the subtext is fairly obvious. Given the increasing levels of extreme scrutiny and poisonous abuse to which football's much-maligned whistle-blowers are regularly subjected, they clearly just want to be, if not loved, merely appreciated.
"We saw within a couple of decisions that people think it's so easy, but I think you found out very quickly that it isn't," says Gallagher after a session in which the myriad complexities of flag-waving, yellow and red card dissemination and whistle management had been explained and practised. "By the end of the half-hour it was amazing how much had been picked up and taken on board. You were a better referee at the end than you were at the start, because we stopped, we had a little chat, we involved the players and we learned from it. That's what refereeing is about: what you take out of today, you bring into tomorrow."
Having begun in the classroom with an overview of the inaugural FA Carlsberg Referee Awards, launched to recognise and reward the contributions match officials make to grassroots football, the highlight of a fascinating day was a You Are The Ref-style interactive session, in which clips of contentious incidents from assorted Premier League matches were played, analysed and discussed from the referee's perspective.
Notable mainly for the monotonous regularity with which assorted Stoke players and Vincent Kompany seemed to feature, the most intriguing incident was the much-discussed tackle on Jack Wilshere for which the Manchester City defender was dismissed by Mike Dean during Manchester City's 2-0 win over Arsenal last month, only for the decision to be subsequently overturned.
"From the position the referee sees it, there's no doubt in my mind it's a red card," explains Gallagher. "All day long it's a red card. But when you see it sideways on, if he'd knocked that ball out of play you'd give a throw-in. That's how difficult that decision was. But the referee has one look from one angle, so I think if you're going to criticise him for a decision, at least criticise him from the angle he's looking at. Don't get five different angles and just beat him up, because that's not fair."
Fairness, or the lack of it with which officials are judged by pundits is a source of exasperation for Gallagher, who insinuates they, rather than craftier footballers playing at increasingly high speed, are to blame for the problems encountered by referees. "I think refereeing is getting more difficult in that it's analysed so much," he explains. "I think that everybody now wants utopia, which is impossible. You look at decisions and you go 'Yeah, I'd give that', then you see it from a different angle … The referee doesn't have that luxury, he or she sees it from one angle only."
A personal pet peeve as far as officiating is concerned is the common misconception among high-profile pundits, commentators and football fans that goalline officials – "the blokes with the wands" – do not do anything, because they are never seen to do anything. I offer Gallagher a platform to disabuse them of this notion and confirm that these officials are in fact in constant discussion with the referee via radio mic and ear-piece, a more nuanced if less ostentatious means of communication than goalline semaphore.
"The problem with them is exactly as you say," he explains. "They are there to assist and they're in communication with the referee and the trouble with that communication is that the referee hears it but we don't. There's no tangible evidence to say they've got involved – they don't raise a flag, they don't raise their arms. I was back home in Ireland a couple of weeks ago and one of the guys who stands behind the goal for the Irish FA was explaining to me how involved they are and I was absolutely mesmerised, but when you watch on TV you don't see that because it's all verbal."
For all it's occupational hazards – the scrutiny, the brickbats, the poisonous abuse – Gallagher is clearly passionate about refereeing and claims to have had only one unpleasant day during his career as a match official. "That was someone else's misfortune; I refereed the game where poor old David Busst broke his leg," he says, recalling the sickening career-ender suffered by the Coventry City defender in a match at Old Trafford in April 1996. "But anyone who can say they went to work for 22 years and only had one day has got the most brilliant job in the world."
A brilliant job, but an undeniably difficult one … something more football folk might learn to appreciate once they've crabbed a mile in the latest object of their derision's shoes.
By Barry Glendenning of the Guardian
