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North, South, East or Wesht, they get sent everywhere.
Without any query, they know their destination sometimes changes in transit. But they are definitely going to make it. They know that there will be trouble on the battlefield, there will definitely be snipers waiting for them to stick their head just a smidgeon above the parapet and they're a goner!
If you don’t keep your wits about you, you might not come back at all….On top of all that, there’s a mountain of bodies telling you what to do, but never giving you the same instructions, it’s confusing. What to do? Do they cut the blue wire or the red one? Does anyone care?
They uphold the law. They make sure it’s going to be peace at the end. No weapons, just some colourful language though. We are of course talking about the person sent us from the high heavens above, the one who knows no injustice, the one who defends the weak and compliments the strong, Brothers/Sisters of the GAA could you please upstanding and give a harm hand of appreciation to The referee. Somebody? Anybody?
Ah the poor oul crachures. They’re the only ones who can actually start a game, yet the only one most people don’t give a fiddlers about once the game has started.
We have grown up in the culture of “would you look at that F**kin eejit out there” & “indnamajaysus ref, for what?”. We can’t forget the molten droplet of spectator wisdom that the ref gets every week (as if they would forget), “sure take it yourself ref”, that’s nice that spectators want the official to take a free, he never gets to, just a pity that the comment previous is usually followed up by “ya bol**x”, ...so close yet so far.
Let me paint a picture. The Reiteoir, adjudicator; whatever you want to call him (within reason of course) (MrW: We’re good with bol**x) all in black. Wearing jersey ofiguil, black socks, black shorts, red and yellow cards, a stopwatch, a scorebook, a pencil, a whistle and a coin walks on the pitch. The 30 fellas warming up immediately offer their respect. .
The “man in black” stands in the middle of the pitch, blows his trusty whistle for the captains to approach. Then it’s the “lads” with the team list. “Are you the ref?” they ask. Well if you have to ask….!
Sadly, milliseconds after the throw in as sure as E=mc2 Referee = Public Enemy #1.
The supporters stand on either side of the battlefield...Archers Ready?
Release!
So what’s worse? “Ah ref”? or “Ah (Name of Ref)”. Definitely the latter, if they know your name they obviously had you before and by now your thinking what happened the last time I was here, or was it here, or was it in the boot of a car being taken away from here… “concentrate” he says to himself, the loud whistle shrills in the air and it’s the first free of the game, nobody bats an eye lid.
Sure nobody cares about the first free. Wrong, wrong, wrong. The referee cares about getting every call right, mightn’t get them right in your eyes, but he aims too.
So we’re a few minutes in and the tension is in the air, both sets of supporters are working to a crescendo of out-shouting each other and trying to get the better of their “enemy” regarding the slagging. They have two things in common
1. They love the game they are watching
2. They both will sign a peace agreement & join forces / army’s / militia / against the arbitrator in the middle, sure he’s only there to keep the peace and we don’t like silence do we?
So with 5 minutes before halftime, the calls start to ring out, “where’s your black card now you (insert your own word)”, “sure he’s been at it all day ref”, “put a jersey on yourself you (again, insert your own word here) (MrW: Don’t mind if I do Bol**x)”.
Halftime
Why do refs need to be asked 19 times? “What’s the score?” like all the rules we probably won’t change our mind, so why do we be asked so much?
Once again the lonely figure in the middle is there on show like a spot prize, only problem is nobody is buying a raffle ticket!
Ok, round two lets go…no wait 5 subs being brought on.Now this is where its gets really tricky!
Referees come from all walks of life, Teachers, GARDA, Civil Servants, Builders etc…but none of them have being trained in the ancient art of hieroglyphic readings. Try it yourself, reading a scribble on a piece of paper the size of a maths square in the rain!
And we’re away again, immediately a push in the back. FREE! Taken, this time a pull of the jersey. Another FREE! Taken, and dropped into the danger area. Another FREE for holding this time, “ah for jaysus sake ref will ya let it flow!”
No “you stupid Boll*x” this time? Wow things are looking up for the whistler”!
Anyways free taken, over the bar and kick out.
Midfield wins ball, solos, shouldered fairly, and again, but keeps going, lays it off and gets hit again, ADVANTAGE. nippy Corner forward has it, hit again, he keeps going, side-steps the defender and passes out to the 21. Centre forward wriggles away from marker, passes it on and the other corner forward has the ball. He gets shouldered, “for f*ck sake ref will ya ever blow yer f*ckin whistle!!!” ball flies over the bar and score stands, not a whisper from anyone.
Referee 1 Supporters 0? Maybe.
Kickout, 3 minutes to go and the blues are up by a point, “referee for f**k sake the f**king time up”. Am I on a slightly different time zone than the rest?, I know to be a ref you sometimes have to be on a different planet but now they’re taking the mick!
At last the game is over, no sendings off, indeed no bookings…queue the lynchmob! “very harsh ref”, “you didn’t play enough time ref”, “give it up ref” “you’re always the same with us ref”
Ref thinks to himself “Will I give up this lark?”. Next year will be easier when I progress to Under 14. It has to be easier doesn’t it?
It’s gas, not a single comment from any of the players they acknowledge the ref is doing his best.
Looney Lonely Lad in the Middle (minus the raffle ticket)
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