Quis
custodiet ipsos custodes? For
the benefit of those readers who were deprived of a Classical
education, that well-known quote from the Roman poet Juvenal is
generally translated as: “Who guards the guards?”
When
it comes to fitba, the “guards”
are the
referees, those much
put-upon men in black who attempt to ensure the Laws of the Game are
followed and that good order is maintained during the 90 or so
minutes of a normal game.
In
the early days of the game, when “Association
Football” was
merely a means of burning-off the excess energies of the young men at
England's great public schools, referees were not required. Eton,
Harrow, Charterhouse, Rugby, these
bastions of education and good breeding each evolved their own form
of the basic game of “Football”,
with their own set of rules.
These
were never written down, but learned over the years as the boys grew
up. Only in the second half of the 19th
century, as these chaps from the different schools began to mingle at
the two great universities, did the need for a common set of rules
become obvious – hence the Cambridge
Rules of around 1838,
which were later refined in 1856.
By
1863, when The
Football Association was
formed, the Cambridge Rules became the basis of The
Laws of the Game, however,
back then, there was no need for a referee, since the players could
decided among themselves what was and was not acceptable behaviour on
the playing field.
There
were certainly “umpires” - one provided by each team, plus “the
referee”, whose principal role was that of time-keeper, but, who
could be referred-to, in the event of the umpires being unable to
agree a decision.
Referees
as we know them today, however, did not come into regular use until
1891.
Personally,
I have always considered Law
v (i) as one of the
greatest and simplest of the Laws of the Game: “The
referee is the sole judge of fact.”
And,
as one weel-kent former Grade
One Scottish referee
memorably said to me, when I was sent along to do a feature on
referee training: “A
referee is never more right, than when he is wrong.”
Today,
however, as football careers towards its second century, such
simplistic thought is insufficient. Particularly at the top end, the
prizes are so rich, the pressure so great, one senior match official
cannot be allowed that much power. As never before, referees and
their decision-making is second-guessed, mistakes (and all human make
mistakes) seem to no longer be allowed, and must be immediately
overturned.
Which
brings us to VAR
(Video Assistant Referee) the
guy sitting in the television production van, reviewing on-field
decisions and able to persuade the man in the middle to have a second
look at an incident and, if he got his initial on-field decision
wrong, amend it.
Now,
in the world of professional football – a world where money is
King, VAR is
great – when your club benefits; not so good when you are on the
“wrong” end of a VAR
review.
Pep
Guardiola, the
Manchester City
manager, is no fan of
VAR, which
has, in the first two weekends of the new season, already cost his
team a couple of goals – the second of these a match-winner against
Tottenham at
the weekend.
Sure,
mistakes will happen, for all the technology, which can clarify
offsides and the like, at the end of the process, a human being still
has to make a definite decision, and, as I said earlier human beings
will make mistakes.
The
other drawback with VAR
is, it is expensive
to install and run, which is why we will not see it in Scottish
domestic football for some time. Mind you, I get the feeling, with
VAR, an
awful lot of those “honest
mistakes” which,
over the years, have benefited a certain two Glasgow-based clubs,
will stop happening – which will not go down too well with the foot
soldiers of their huge supports.
I
know, I am just an old cynic.
WHEN
I WAS a
boy, back in the days of brown Manfield
Hotspur boots,
with nailed-in leather studs; when our Tomlinson
T-balls had
to be dubbined, like the boots, and still soaked-up water, life was
simple.
Here,
at the erse end of Ayrshire, Junior
Football was
the only game in the village. Each team was mainly made-up of local
boys, with the odd exotic creature imported from Weegieland,
and the players were mostly young men, hoping to attract senior
attention and perhaps move up.
These
days, the junior players come from awe the airts, and are mostly guys
who had their chance at the big time as teenagers, but didn't make
the cut and found their level back in the juniors. Some of the old
certainties have survived, however, around here, we still have a
dislike for Cumnock
Juniors and
Irvine Meadow,
but,
otherwise, it is nearly all change.
These
days too, the top junior sides get to have a crack at the big
Scottish Cup,
and,
while the
annual
quest for The
Scottish Junior Cup still
matters, increasingly the main interest is in wondering which club
will emerge from the pack to challenge the mighty Auchinleck
Talbot in
the final. If we still had a Monopolies
Commission in
this here United Kingdom, they would surely be investigating how
Tommy Sloan and
his troops have managed to take such a stranglehold on the
competition.
Talbot
were
in (Senior) Scottish
Cup action
at the weekend, beating Dundonald
Bluebell 6-1
at Beechwood
Park. This
was a first preliminary round replay following a 2-2 draw in the
first game. The result gives Talbot a second preliminary round tie,
at Camelon.
To
most Talbot fans, both Bluebell
and Camelon
are Junior
clubs; however,
technically, they are now Senior
clubs, following the
mass defection of East
of Scotland Junior League clubs
to the “Senior” East
of Scotland League a
year or two back.
Technically,
these EoS League
clubs are “Level Six” clubs (The
Premiership is Level
One, Championship
is Level Two
and so on down). I might be wrong on this, but I think the West
of Scotland Junior Region, Premier Division, where
Talbot play is “Level
Seven,” but, I may
be wrong on that. Whatever, Talbot, from the “Juniors,”
were clearly five goals better than their “Senior”
opponents.
It
is long past time Scottish Football was re-organised to reflect the
realities of 21st
century football.
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