The Referee Chronicles: Week Two

Week two was rough from the beginning. I was still quite sore and stiff from the previous week’s games. I had three games to officiate: two lines, one center. I’m going to focus on the center game.

            It was the first center referee gig I had done since roughly 1999. I thought I had a good game, despite what both teams thought. Well, let me rephrase: I had a good game given the fact it was my first in forever. This was not my best game, and I’m not afraid to admit it. I didn’t control the game as well as I should’ve or could’ve. Let’s delve in:

            It started well, although a bit chippy. It was the quarterfinals for their league, and both teams were looking to advance by playing hard. There were a few fouls; some were niggling and not really worthy of calling. Looking back, not calling those trifling fouls may have lead to the rough play throughout the game. About midway through the first half is where it all started to go downhill for me.

            After a beautiful feed from the midfield, Team A had a clear breakaway. The goalkeeper from Team B came out to challenge. The keeper missed the ball completely and recklessly, and dangerously, took out the attacker. I waited to call the foul to see if the ball would cross the goal line, but it just trickled wide. I blew the whistle and immediately pointed to the spot. Now came the hard decision: which color card. I went with the straight red. Here, I made two mistakes.

            My first mistake: I did not confer with my assistant referee. I definitely should’ve done this. I talked about it at halftime; the nearside assistant had a great look. He agreed it was a penalty, but felt it was more a clumsy challenge than a reckless and dangerous one. This information would’ve changed the color of the card. I wish he would’ve called me over to discuss it, but the onus is on me to confer.

            My second mistake: the position on the field where I displayed the red card. When displaying a straight red, the official should pull the player away from the pack of other players that feel they can both officiate and play the game at the same time. The team that’s about to get the card thinks you’re wrong, and the team benefitting from the card has your back. Often, the team that “has your back,” has it in a way that is too confrontational for your own good. Surrounded by attackers and defenders, I displayed the red card to the keeper. This was a horrible decision. Horrible. The defenders were less than happy. There was a lot screaming, yelling, and it’s probably a good thing I don’t speak Spanish.

            The goalkeeper was angry. He was yelling, and he was extremely demonstrative while speaking. For a moment, I seriously thought he was going to punch me in the face. Removing the goalkeeper from the fray and then issuing the red card could’ve diffused a lot of this. It made for a difficult rest of the game. It was the first of two red cards issued that game.

            The game continued to be extremely physical. Good shoulder-to-shoulder challenges were pretty much non-existent; they were full body checks that would make NHL players jealous. Slide tackling is prohibited in this league; thank the gods. Several cautions were issued during the first half.

            I completely failed to manage the first half game to the best of my abilities. I blame two things: fitness and the amount of time that had passed since officiating as a center. Unfortunately, the second half didn’t get much better.

            If you recall, I was still quite sore from the previous week’s games. I was doing my best to stay in good position to see the play. Because my fitness wasn’t where it should be, I kept an extremely tight diagonal. I rarely ventured off of my line to change views. I’m not going to lie: I was too sore and too out of shape to venture. It definitely affected my ability to referee well. It also made me miserable on the pitch. I was cranky because I was crampy.

            I guess I should clarify another league rule: unlimited substitutions at any stoppage of play. That being said; a substitution must be acknowledged and allowed by the referee before it can happen. This is an important law to keep in mind because it led to the second red card of the match.

            Despite this being a recreational men’s league, the professional time wasting tactics of the big leagues are not missed on the beer league ballers. A ball was played out of bounds, and it took some time for a player to snag it to put it back into play. A considerable amount of time had started to tick off the clock. As soon as the player A approached the touchline to throw it in, the captain of team A yelled for a substitution. I denied this request. I felt it was a time wasting effort, and the captain had plenty of time during the ball recovery to make this sub. I yelled, “No sub! Next stoppage! No sub!” I ordered play to continue. Shortly after yelling this, a new player from team A came on to replace a player. I was kind of fed up at this point. It actually took more time to enforce this infraction. I’m not sure I handled it correctly, but at the time, I think it was the right thing to do. I’m the hardest Monday morning referee on myself than anyone else.

            I blew the whistle because the ball had been thrown in. I approached the player who came on illegally. I told him that it was an illegal substitution, and as the law requires, I had to show him a yellow card. This was his second yellow card. He received one in the first half for time wasting or possibly for failure to respect the distance. I explained to him that his substitution was not allowed. I showed him his second yellow and then displayed the red. He was respectful and tad confused. I tried to explain it to him, but again, time was wasting away. Team B’s time was running out. Oh, I should mention another league rule: there’s no added time. Because the player that came on illegally wasn’t a recognized player on the pitch, Team A was able to keep 11 men on the field. This was both a point of contention and confusion (and something I’m not 100% I got correct). I again had to explain the rulings and such, which took even more time off the clock. I didn’t want to allow a substitution because it was time wasting. Now, looking back, I ate more time off the clock than the team would have if I had just allowed the substitution.

            Two red cards, a goalie tossed out, almost got punched in the face (and maybe should’ve), poor communication between myself and the assistant refs, a tremendous amount of muscle cramps, and what I believe to have been a death threat in Spanish, this was by far one of the worst games of my officiating career. I lost control of the game before it started. I was out of shape, out of position, and out of patience. It’s a dangerous mix when it comes to officiating. And the really sad thing is: it was just game one of three that night.

            The Referee Chronicles are a diary of my adventures as a United States Soccer Referee. Check back in with Following Futbol to see where the flags and whistles take me.