Well, if you’ve been keeping a close eye on the week numbers,
you’ll notice I skipped week three. That is by design. Week three was really
uneventful. It was the championship game for the league, and I was an assistant
referee for the match. What I recall of the match is that one team won and one
team lost. So onto week four we go.
Week four had a two game Saturday night event. I am going to
focus on the first match: the match I centered. Let’s take a stroll back to
week two really fast: “I didn’t control the game as well as I should’ve or
could’ve.” Remember that? Yeah, I did, too. So I did what any good referee
should do with a game that was really bad: I reviewed my mistakes, developed a
strategy on how to fix the problem, and then I let that game roll of my back.
After a bad game, players need a short memory, so do referees.
My team and I met on the side of the pitch to discuss our
plan for the game. This is something I didn’t do in the previous game I
centered. A lot of that has to do with the league; some of it has to do with
the referees. First mistake from week two fixed. I explained to my assistants
what I expected from them and what they will get from me in return. I expected
hustle. I expected them to be in position to make the calls they made. That
really is one of the best defenses to any criticism: be where you’re supposed
to be. What they got in return was 100% hustle from me, and me being in
position for the calls I made. When the center referee is in position to make
the correct calls, the linesman on the team sideline hear a lot less crap from
the players.
We approached the center spot as a team. The captains were
called. The captains’ meeting was brief, but I felt more confident in my
discussions with them than the previous match. I explained what I expected from
the teams and the captains. The coin was flipped, and we took our positions.
I blew the whistle to start the game. Team A kicked off and
moved well with and without the ball. Team B was just as fluid. The
communication between teammates was excellent on both sides of the pitch. Their
communication reminded me of something: I could communicate with the players,
too. And I didn’t need a whistle to do it.
For some reason, the teams in this league like to say, “good
shit” when their players do something well. I’m not a fan of the phrase, but if
it’s the status quo, who am I to inflict my personal dislike for the phrase on
them? I did take their praise of one another into consideration. What was
stopping me from saying something positive to the players? The answer was
simple: nothing. I noticed two players making a textbook play on the ball,
great shoulder to shoulder challenges as the play moved down the left wing. It
was great play by both teams, so I told them it was, “good challenge! Clean
contact, guys, keep that up.” I saw no harm in this; I was not cheering a
particular player or team. I merely stating that as the referee, I saw good,
clean contact, and that’s the kind of play I like to see. It was my equivalent
of “good shit.”
There were times when talking helped diffuse a situation
before it happened. For example, I found that saying; “good jumps” before a
50/50 ball in the air reduced the amount of pushing from behind as the two
players jumped for the ball. I also found that saying, “watch the hands, let go,
or no holds” when someone tugged on a jersey was usually sufficient to stop the
foul from occurring. Of course, this tactic was only used if mutual combatants
did the tugging or if no real advantage was gained by the foul. Stopping the
game for these types of fouls truly interrupts the flow and is generally
frowned upon, even by USSF and FIFA. These would be the ‘trifling’ fouls that
referees that want to advance through the ranks need to recognize and eliminate
from the ‘whistle vocabulary.’
By doing this very simple thing, I had taken control of the
game and urged the players to play the soccer game I wanted. I controlled the
game, and I didn’t do it with a warehouse worth of whistles or cornucopia of
cards; I did by simply talking to the players throughout the game. Mistake
number two from week two had been corrected.
I am yet still far from perfect, so mistakes were still made
throughout the game; however, my mistakes were met with less screaming and
yelling than the previous week. For example, a missed handball: the play was in
the middle of the field and I was perfectly parallel to the play. This actually
put me out of position to see what happened. Here’s what everyone else on the
pitch saw: Team A handled the ball and the ball dropped to his feet. What I
saw: the player from Team A standing and
the ball fall to his feet. I could not see the player’s arm stretched out from
my angle. Everyone else could. Including the player from Team B who failed to
play to whistle. The player from Team B put his hand on the ball to stop it
from moving and then kicked it into play. That’s when I blew the whistle for
the hand-ball awarding Team A the kick.
I explained to the B Team player that while I could probably
assume what happened, I didn’t see it happen; therefore, I couldn’t call the
foul. He immediately replied, “Yeah, I know. I didn’t play to the whistle; it’s
my fault.” Holy crap on a cracker, right? A player just admitted a blown call
by the referee was his fault! I really need to record these conversations.
I learned a lot from my mistakes in the previous game I had
centered. I learned I needed to communicate more without my whistle. I learned
that saying something as simple as, “that was a great run off the ball; you
really opened up some space” shows to the players that you really understand
the game and you’re watching every aspect of it. I learned you could stop fouls
before they start by letting the players know you’re watching them closely. I learned this because after this game, probably the best
game of my refereeing career, players from both teams asked if I wanted to come
out for drinks with them. Unfortunately, I still had one more game to
officiate. That beer would’ve tasted sweet.
