BALLS! The Best European Football Nations by Chris Whitfield

Author:Chris Whitfield [Whitfield, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fifa, funny, England, World Cup, Football, Soccer, uefa, spain, Non-Fiction
Publisher: Chris Whitfield
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

BASTARD IN THE BLACK

It was 2002 and World Cup time again, this time in the land of the rising sun, or at least nearby in South Korea. Winning three games out of three in the first group stage led to a group of 16 encounter with the Republic of Ireland. Here, Spain was coasting 1-0 until the last minute, when a Robbie Keane goal sent the Irish crowd wild. It even induced the raising of eyebrows in Wexford. However, Spain beat the Irish on penalties and at the end of the group stage progressed to the quarter-finals, where everyone thought they knew the script. They would lose to hosts, South Korea, courtesy of some dubious refereeing decisions - this had been the pattern of the Koreans’ progress to date. The referee was from Egypt, his assistants from Uganda and Trinidad, by any measure vulnerable to financial persuasion or just being crap.

Now, refereeing is a hard gig. I recall when my son was eight and playing organised football but still too young for the local football league to allocate a proper ref, and so the solution was for the dads to take a turn. When it was my go, I was surprised at two things. Firstly, how much abuse I received. I silently objected to taunts of 'Who's the bastard in the black?' as I was wearing a lighter shade of blue and the cries were coming from our team's supporters. I also think it was wrong for my son to join in. The second thing that surprised me was how easy it was to spot infringements. As a spectator, your attention is focused on how your team is playing, the tactics, the skills on display, the chances, even the pies at half-time. However, as the bastard in the lighter shade of blue, you are solely on the lookout for fouls and offsides. Refereeing is therefore harder than you'd think, yet easier than you'd think.

There was an embarrassing postscript to my stint as a referee. I blew my whistle at full time and felt a surge of self-satisfaction. I had had a decent game and felt that all the goals scored were fair and that sending off the red haired left back for telling me to shove my unmentionables up someone else's unmentionables was fair, even if he was only seven. As I left the field, I saw the opposition's manager approach me with a certificate. This was it. After years of enduring a lack of recognition in my career as an accountant, my glorious sixty minutes as the man in the middle was about to rewarded with a scroll. He gave the A4 size paper to me and what started as a proud moment quickly drained away, as I read the words 'Man of the Match', awarded to one of the players in my son's team. This guy had thought I was the manager. It was the most deluded moment of my life, and I am certain it will not be surpassed.

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