RefBlog

Was he trying to be nice?

A referee I've worked with for a while, went to Regionals with him and he has a lower threshold for carding someone than I do. That's fine - it doesn't make him or myself any better or worse. But if the teams are up for it, I do like to let them play physical, be it men or women. And this women's game was one of the few that has been even between the boarding school and just about anyone - it was against a newly formed superclub (a merger between two of the best clubs in the state, and the local professional soccer team). I don't think either was playing with a full roster, but it was fun nonetheless.

And being that one team won Regionals last year, and the other aspired to it, I let them duke it out - and truth be told it wasn't terribly physical. But late in the first half, a player was fouled while making a tight turn, and went down crying. I waited a few seconds and called advantage - I wasn't entirely clear if there was one, but knowing how the team could play, I waited as long as possible before deciding one way or another. After the play ended, I called out the trainer. I knew the foul was coming, but it didn't seem especially hard; it turns out the player just came back from ACL surgery - so it may not have taken much, or she may have gotten it just right, since we're still dealing with artificial turf.

So, after calling out the trainer, I saw my AR with his hand over his badge (indicating he wants a yellow card); I shake my head no, as I really didn't think it was at that level. But he kept it there, so I thought maybe he saw something else and made my way over. When there, he said that after I turned my back, the player who committed the foul thwacked her on the back of the leg. This seemed rather odd to me, because I stayed nearby for quite a bit, and the ball was long away from that area before I left; but I wasn't going to doubt him for watching behind me, so I carded the offending player. I just can't help but wonder if he just wanted me to card that foul - it was hard, but to me not hard enough given the type of game. It's one of those things you just don't want to ask. (more)

26 April '09 - 10:18 - - default| two comments, already - § ¶

Five Best of the First Five Years: Just keep makin' up the rules, Monkey Boy (2004)

Refs are human beings - which means on one hand players, coaches, and fans should treat us like one; on the other it means that if you don't, we will do what we need to do. That may mean tossing you, and it may go as far as making fun of you, or even gloating when your behavior finally catches up to you.

This is two parter, about a person who, depending on the time of day, I would either say, "I'm sorry I gloated about his injury" or, "I don't feel sorry about his injury." The guy was just the epidomy of everything that's wrong with sports today. Loud (which isn't bad, unless it's coupled with...), obnoxious, ignorant, arrogant, and overly aggressive. The saga actually started in December of 2003 (Is there a Kobayashi Maru for Refs?), and continued for the rest of that session, which went into 2004.

As for the 2004 entries, here's Just keep makin' up the rules, Monkey Boy which was originally published on January 13, 2004 :

More "playoffs" - only a handfull of teams are playing for the coveted league champion T-shirts, but everyone is in bracket play, to determine who they play for the next couple weeks. Even if you're not in contention for the T-Shirts, it's a playoff of sorts, so intensity level is higher; the only downside is that my ability to run is lower, as I'm still recovering from that nasty cold last week. In the indoor game, it's not needed as much, as you're never more than 30 yards from play - and good positioning, coupled with a minimum amount of sprinting, can insure that you're within 10 (I prefer to be more active, but reality dictates that my being lucid is more important).

The Hell team finally showed up! Missing-in-action for three games (although apparently the office knew about it, as there were issues during the holidays), they were back, and I was reffing them. Actually, this was by my own choice: there are two refs in this league, and dealing with refs you don't like is part of life; other teams deal with their demons, this team has to deal with me (besides, I gave them several weeks to cool down).

First half, they keep their happy hats on, and just play. They're playing a team that has some good players, but is having a very poor session - I don't know if they're missing key players this winter or what, but they've been a lot better in the past, but this winter, they've only won a single game. They're up 1-0 at half, and there is little going on. Second half, the problem players show up - literally - they weren't around in the first half, and things get heated again. It was a perfect example of what one or two bad apples will do to a team. First, a yellow card for dissent; "You think I'm going to let you go off again? I don't think so."

So now the whining and whinging begins in earnest: They can't shoulder charge me (says who?)! They can't obstruct me (they just passed the ball, and the attacker ran straight into the defender - that's not obstruction, that's you running into him.)! Wah wah wah!

Second yellow comes after the player I sent off last time takes a mighty whack at a defender who just took possession of the ball. No chance at ball, I was tempted to send him off again because it was totally unnecessary. Out comes the goalkeeper fourty yards to complain - he gets booked, too.

How the goalkeeper shows the effects of LSD usage: A few minutes later, Pink (yup, that's the "other" team's color) trips up, but does not trip a member of the Hell Team - and it was a play for the ball that was just short. Keeper complains that it's "the same foul." Oh, yeah, riiiiight. I have to admit, I was saying in my head, "Just a little bit! Just a little bit more!!. I want to red card you with a great big smile on my face!". This was followed by the keeper trying to make up rules for the penalty kicks that we had to go through; PKs can be frustrating if they're not followed correctly - they're the only free kicks that are a mandated cerimonial restart (kickoffs are not free kicks, if you're being technical, which I am); it absolutely MUST take place after the referee's go-ahead (99.9% of the time a whistle), no if's and's or but's. But this is a rec league, and some people just don't understand - not a critisism, it just is; and a woman took the kick early and it was saved. Guess what, it ain't a valid kick - no no no. Sayeth the Druggie Keeper (who's quickly starting to look and act like Steve Ballmer, aka The Monkey Boy), "They can't re-take the kick!" followed by what would have been deadly seriousness, if he wasn't already in hysterics, (it sounded more like William Shatner's rendition of Mr. Tambourine Man) "Its! In! The! Rules!" I have no idea how I kept a straight face then - but I can't now: Baaahahahahahahahaha! Oh, man, this guy's idiocy is just amazing!

Adding to the humor, the captains for both teams that followed that game both remarked about how much they whined and carried on, and when their team name was mentioned, one of them went, "Oh, yeah them." They've picked up a reputation.

Unfortunately, they did fall just short of picking up the red card (and how often do I say "unfortunately" with regards to an avoided send-off?). So in a unbridled display of referee sickness (shared by the coordinator and other referee, who both agree), I'm getting them again for their next game.

Second game was a playoff game, and it looked to be a blowout; Blue was down 2-0 and their keeper went out after popping his knee following a goal kick. Replacement keeper gave up another in the final five minutes and they were down 3-0 to White. White has a very predictable attacking style: get the ball to #11. That's is - that's all they do, and he bobs and weaves around and find ways to get point-blank shots and Blue was just unable to deal with him in the first half. Second half, they switch keepers again (a woman who was much better), and began double-teaming White's #11 with their two best players. They open with a goal, making it 3-1. White #11 tapped the ball at kick-off and goes directly down the middle of the field and punches the ball in to make it 4-1. Now the double-teaming begins in earnest, and white's attack is flat shut down; what's more, now that they have possession, they start pellting away at a disorganized White defense (that doesn't seem to know what to do, since they can't get anything to #11 anymore). 4-2. 4-3. 4-4. Intensity level for Blue has changed from, "We're dead, let's have fun," to "let's win it!" and is absolutely frenetic. White's intensity level has also increased - keeper is screaming at his players to get organized, get people to stay back defensively, and not give up the game. Blue now goes up 4-5, and tensions are high as both teams, while not highly skilled, ARE highly wired, and every foul and possession are critical. #11 takes a tough foul about 15 yards from the goal (not a PK in indoor - it's outside of the penalty area), and just drills it to tie the game at five; a few minutes later he commits a retaliatory foul (wasn't scoring enough???) and I book him. We have less than two minutes left, and #11 is fouled again by Blue (and Blue is booked) on the left side of the goal, just outside the PA and two yards from the goal line... and he starts mouthing off. I step in, "Hey, he's been booked, and you have a yellow card. Wouldn't it suck to have to sit out the last few minutes when you could have won it?"

I wonder if it made an impression - because he did win it. White won 6-5, and of those six goals, he scored five of them. Yeah, getting fouled sucks, but when you're THAT important to the team, you can't risk doing stupid things.

---

Followup article, published on January 22, 2004: Does this make me a bad guy?

My first responce was, "Yes!" My second was, "It couldn't happen to a more worthy guy." Third, fourth, fifth didn't change a whole lot. And after more than twelve hours after hearing about it, I'm still wishing I could have seen it happen.

Tasteless? Yes. Understandable? Maybe.

I'm talking the bozo who has been giving me so much trouble of late; HE BROKE HIS NOSE!

Sorry, I can't help it, it must come out again...

YES!!!

OK, this is odd - in more than three years of reffing, I've never had the kind of vitriol I've reserved for him. I think it's because he is, in equal porportions, a whiner, an idiot, and a provocateur. When I think of people who do a disservice to the game of soccer, this man, more than any coach I've seen (and if you've read my stuff, imagine how serious that charge is!) is the worst. And the worst part about it, is that he's a good player - he does not need to be an obnoxious prick who thinks his immortal soul is riding on the game. But even if it is, it's his own stupid decision to make that deal, I don't give a rat's ass if he fries in hell or not.

I found out last night in one of the leagues I play in (I picked up a second where we get our asses handed to us every night, but at least it's good practice) that one of my teammates was playing against his team, and according to the story, things went along the usual pattern. First half things were fine, but they, the team-o-insanity, was behind by a few goals. Second half, they got chippy, and they got mouthy, and they got nasty. The goalkeeper (the Prickius Maximus) has a tendancy to come out of the penalty area, dribbing the ball, driving hard to spark some offence; the only problem is that he also tends to want special privileges when he does that, when in reality, as soon as he leaves the PA he's just another field player in a funny jersey; and in this case he went too hard, right into this guy's shoulder, and broke his own nose.

I was in the building but didn't know it was him. I was busy reffing my own game, and at a stoppage we heard calls from the other side asking if there was a doctor in the building. After nobody answered, I stopped the game to make sure someone there had a cell phone (and if not, volunteer mine) - someone did and said they would call if necessary, so I returned and restarted my game. By the way, in case you're wondering why I did it like that, I come from an acting background, where the show must go on no matter what happens in the audience: during my performances there have been people puking, having seizures and other unpleasantries (I quickly gave up on going professional), but unless there's a fire or other natural disaster, the show, indeed, must go on. If nothing else, it keeps people from standing around, staring at the guy that was hurt.

Besides, if I knew who it was, I probably would have been standing around giggling. How ugly would that have been?

So, now that my game is over with, and the Team of Too Much Testosterone has left the building (we don't have any more week-days leagues for the rest of the winter, and they don't play on weekends), I've stopped gleefully going over the injury (well, no, I just had another gleeful moment - how about we say I'm not constantly in a gleeful state?), and asked myself how appropriate this is. And this is the answer I've come up with; it doesn't matter as long as I keep it in check. Because frankly, I do think something like this was coming, either through his hard playing, or someone busting his nose via a passing fist; he's a disreputable jerk, and now that I won't see him for quite some time, it's safe for me to feel this way. Should I ref them again (which probably won't be for another year), I'll have to package it tightly and put it away (if I haven't forgotten about it by then), and then just ref.

Maybe, with luck, he'll learn that he brought this upon himself. But I'm not willing to give him that much credit.

Post-Script: Just talked to the coordinator, who's finalizing schedules for this weekend. He had just one word to say after he found out who it was: "Karma." (more)

24 April '09 - 14:15 - - default| No comments yet - § ¶

Does he even think I care?

Over the years, I've talked about and wondered why coaches do the things they do. Sometimes, they seem like one-trick ponies, pulling the same stunt game after game. The only thing I can think is that it must work on other referees, or at least enough that it's become a habit. European commentary on American soccer aside, I'd hope that someone trying to coach a team at a high level would have a little more creativity.

In this case, this coach bitches about calls when he comes to look at injured players. I don't know what he does when he doesn't have an injury, but with U17 boys on a full-sized pitch for 90 minutes, you're going to get the occasional bump that someone is going to walk-off. In this case, playing in a tournament, and in their second game, they had cramping issues. I had this coach a couple of weeks ago, and I blew him off (politely, but I blew him off, repeatedly saying, "Thank you, coach" until he gave up and turned away), and now he tries again. But think about this further, you've got a kid hurt, you're supposed to look after him, but instead you turn away to bitch about the refereeing (which I'm sorry, I felt very good about - I'm 95% recovered from the cold and going to the gym again). And even though we had a very tight schedule, we tried to add time to the game because it was close. So on a call make by my AR (and we had real ARs this game), he came out to bitch again, and decided to walk veeeeery sloooooowly back to the technical area. He was behind, he knew we were in stoppage, I wasn't adding more because he's behaved like a twit. I let them take the free kick, and as soon as the possession changed (it took about five seconds), I ended the half.

If you waste time, you lose time. Maybe it's not just creativity I should be concerned about when it comes to our coaches. (more)

17 April '09 - 18:36 - - default| Only one comment - § ¶

If it was that unimportant, why bring it up three times?

First, the brutally honest stuff - I'd been suffering from a cold and hadn't been to the gym in more than a week, and I could tell. I'm not sure if it affected my decision making, but it did affect how fast and how well I ran. But it's winter - you deal with it. Overall, I wasn't disappointed by my performance - I know I could have ran better, but I felt good about the game I called.

The brief I have for these games is that they should be called like State Cup or Regionals games - which means you let a lot of things go. And let's face it, this is a sports school; academics may be a priority, and maybe even required to play the sports, but sports is THE priority with this school. You don't shell out the mega-bucks to go to this school unless you're planning on going to college on someone else's dime, or further. And at least in soccer, the higher level the game, the more crap you let on. If you watched US-Mexico World Cup Qualifier, you saw lots of grabbing, bumping, shoving and nobody really gave a toss about it until the thigh-spike in the second-half. Honestly, it was probably the cleanest and least-nasty US-Mexico game I've seen in a long while. While these games aren't at that level, you see there's a difference between that are your typical "recreational" soccer.

The problem is, is not every team is aware of this (or wants to be - and I could be much more cynical). And so when a team (or one player, in this case), wants piddly stuff that I wouldn't call in a lower-level game called, and loses his temper - I'm not going to feel much pity for him. Nor am I going to feel much sympathy for the coach who's trying to game me by saying how little he likes my calls, but how that one call, "is the least of his worries" - and then repeats it on three separate occasions. If there's one thing I've learned about refereeing, is that the only people's opinions about your refereeing ability that matter are yourself, your assignors, and your assessors. If a coach comes and tells me that #4 is being hacked after the ball changes direction and I'm facing the other way - great! I'll watch for it, and sometimes I'll even catch the bugger and send him off if need be. But telling me I blew a call - I honestly could care less. Is it arrogance? Maybe. But I know my job, and I know I do it better than the coach, if for nothing else because I'm the only person on the field who doesn't give a tinker's cuss about the outcome of the game.

What was probably the most interesting thing about the exchanges is not that it happened, or that I ignored them, is that I was amused by them. Anyone who's read half-a-dozen of these missives know coaches have a way of pressing my buttons - and maybe he just wasn't up to the task. Or maybe I'm just feeling more secure in my own reffing ability (and less pressure to perform for an upgrade that won't happen) and I'm willing to let it just roll down my back like I do with the players. Time will tell, of course - and I still think that coaches who try to game us like that have a class of sleazy all to themselves (players are caught in the moment, coaches are aside from the game, and furthermore should just know better).

The game itself went pretty much the way I wanted. I handed out an orange card shortly after 10 minutes for a tackle that was pretty nasty - enough that I thought about going red, but settled for the yellow and telling the guy that I thought of it. Players: when a referee tells you this - THANK HIM. He just let you know how far you can go - tell your teammates and remove the guesswork for the remainder of the game. After that, they played the game I've seen them play for the last two winters, physical defense, fast flanks, and short clean passes - a strategy that has pasted their competition every time I've seen them. The only issues were guys on the other team that couldn't handle what I'd let go - and would have a fit even when I did call a foul in their favor.

Trying a game a referee seems so... rookie to me. Maybe that's the reason I found it so amusing when they're trying to play at a higher level.

04 April '09 - 00:01 - - default| No comments yet - § ¶

Five Best of the First Five Years: Week of the Living Wingnuts (2005)

I've worked 645 [as of when this was written] regulation USSF games so far in my career- that doesn't count indoor, unaffiliated, or high school, which means I've seen a lot of stuff - some good, some bad, and some so bad that it's funny when you first look at it, then sad when you think of the broader implications. Take this, a U9 game where an adult gets so into the game that he makes a scene in front of his child (or grandchild). It's the epidomy of what's wrong with sports today; at that age (well, any age really, but that age in particular) it shouldn't matter what the refs do, or even how the kids do on the field - the idea should be that they have fun, and learn something positive from play. He shouldn't have to learn that, "My dad can't control his temper." It makes me shudder to think what he's like at home.

Week of the Living Wingnuts

Something is most definitely in the water this week, because I've got people in both of my jobs going nuts over stupid things. With the job, it's not just stupid things, but things that are absolutely impossible to put one-and-one together to make a duce; but they rant rave, and insist, and I charge them $150 an hour for it (it's actually not as good as it seems, because I end up having to neglect my other clients just to placate these bozos).

I was asked by my assignor to help out on a game today; it was right before my scheduled game, at an adjacent field, I had a short drive and I'm usually very early anyway. I've heard it's really bad manners (and signs of a terminal ego problem) to turn down games because they're "beneath" you; and I figured, hey, a U9 would be fun, especially after the last game.

Unfortunately for me, there were major similarities. Fortunately, it involved a parent, not the coaches - and in this game even the coaches were on my side. How can you screw up this game? The kids don't know, let alone are cynical enough, to foul - I think there were a pair where a kid's eyes were so focused on where they were going that they didn't realize they just plowed over their opponent. If there's any such thing as a milk run for an adult referee, this is it.

In this case, the antagonist was a rather large male, either a father or grandfather, who fancied himself a coach rather than a spectator. He was loud, obnoxious, condescending to his peers, and thought he could be an AR while in a lawn chair Can you just see my eyes rolling, even though the text? I thought so.

So in the second half he wanted a corner kick because he thought the goalkeeper touched the ball - he didn't - he pulled up and didn't come within two feet of touching the ball.

"Jesus! What kind of call are you making?" The refs for my second game heard him 150 yards away. Now before I go further, let me just say that while coaches can get under my skin, parents just amuse me - they could say the exact same things, and I'll have totally different reactions to it; I think that's because I hold coaches to a higher standard), even if they fail repeatedly (I'd love to see a study that shows the decline of behavior in soccer linked to the inclusion of coaches on the field, because I bet it's true). Fans, especially American fans, are just ignorant of the game, and just make for good entertainment.

However, he was swearing loudly in the presence is eight-year-olds, and I can't ignore that. So I turn, say, "Hey, I'm a little closer to the play than you, let's cut down on the language" - I'm trying to assert my authority and be diplomatic at the same time, but it didn't work. He picked up his lawn chair, threw it, thankfully, straight down onto the ground, then stormed off to the parking lot, hooting and hollering the whole time.

Then the really funny bit: He comes back onto the field, wearing a different shirt as if he's trying to sneak back in, so he could complain to the coach of his team! First, I didn't even throw it him; and second, like anyone with the build and weight of a giant pumpkin could sneak anywhere! OK, can you now see me trying to hold back the giggles? You're good!

I chatted with that coach for a few minutes after the game (it was all I had, as I had to literally run to the next game), and she didn't understand his fit, either. It was their first game, she didn't know him, and she said that she appreciated my actions, because most of the time they get kids only a few years older than their players doing these games. I asked if, since I'd only done two of this age group in five years, if I missed stuff, if I had misjudged how tight I should call the game, or whatever, and the answer was no, I hadn't. It turns out that he's merely your stereotypical Ugly American, yelling, screaming, frothing at the mouth about a game he's never played or even watched - someone who thinks he can do in a chair what others need run for, even though if you painted him a single color, he'd look just like a gum drop.

The 15 boys game, which I was scheduled to line for, was a more difficult game, but very one sided. How one sided? For the majority of the second half, the goalkeeper hung out inside the center circle. The other team's defense was just too winded after the first twenty minutes to put up any kind of fight, even if they wanted to.

Hopefully the rest of this week will even out a bit.

02 April '09 - 09:06 - - default| No comments yet - § ¶

Cynical fouls with no talking? Bad news is afoot.

This was a game that, after it was over, you don't look at what you could have done to prevent a send-off, but instead when and how many you should have had.

Apparently these two teams had played before, several time - I was able to confirm this with the field manager. And when you get boys (or men) to play each other repeatedly without proper discipline, it's just going to get ugly. In this case, we had a couple cheap and cynical fouls early on in the game, and nobody said anything either before or after - it was clearly for something that happened in a previous game. It's also a matter of overcompensation versus a feeling of being insulted just for playing the other team.

When I was in high school, I used to watch the Nashville Knights minor league hockey team pretty closely; I went to watch a pre-season game between them and the hockey club from the University of Alabama-Birmingham. In this case, the Knights went in playing very aggressively, to intimidate the college team (because they were professionals and could deck out more, naturally); but likewise the college team also went in massively aggressive, probably to not be intimidated. The end result was over 300 penalty minutes being assessed in the first period, and one of the goalkeepers using his stick like a samurai sword. Because it was a pre-season exhibition (and nobody really cares about ECHL pre-season stuff), there's no official record of this - except my own jaw-dropping memory of one of the most violent, and shortest, hockey games I ever saw - the first period never finished before the match ended.

The circumstances were similar - thankfully the outcome wasn't. But we had the private school's U16s playing a U17 club. The U17's didn't like the 16s (and clearly couldn't handle the 17s) and played with the frustration that comes when the yippy rat-dog bests you repeatedly, even when the task requires opposable thumbs. But the 16s, on average nearly a foot shorter than their opponents, also came out really aggressive, too; maybe to counteract the size, previous play, or whatever. People may joke about punting rat-dogs, but their teeth still hurt when they dig into you.

The biggest problem with these games is that they're all solos. They have club lines, but let's be honest - club lines suck. And after years of relying on honest-to-goodness ARs, I didn't adjust well to doing solo games again, so when a player gets a high boot in the chest, instead of just sending off the perpetrator on a best guess, I held off on the back pocket because I didn't get the perfect look, one an AR would have had. Ages ago when I used to do solos all the time, I came to realize that when the play is near any of the boundary lines, you just won't have the position - even if you can make it to the line, you'll likely be out-of-position once the ball squirts out, and you have no ARs to back you up. But in this case I forgot and tried to glean something from the club line - maybe it was for the best, maybe it wasn't - but let's go back to the second sentence of this paragraph: club lines suck; and then went with my gut and dished out the red.

I also had two players jawing at each other for the last fifteen minutes, and I made a point of following them around - and they knew it. Heck, they complained about it - and I replied, "Once you guys behave like civilized people, I'd be glad to stop following you around". I've heard this tactic works very well - but it didn't for me. After both players had picked up cautions, but were still yapping at each other, I pulled out my ultimatum, with every intention of following through, "I don't want to hear either of you say a word to the other. I don't care if you say, 'You're the best person in the world' and mean it, I'm giving you a second card. Well, I suppose you can say it worked, because they didn't say anything, one of them instead decided to give out a nasty foul which earned a straight red.

By my count, I should have tossed both of those guys sooner, and the guy with the high boot. Not too often that the more I think about a game, the more I think I should I should have spread the send-offs like butter on toast.

01 April '09 - 22:11 - - default| No comments yet - § ¶