by ROBERT SIDAWAY

THE MEN YOU LOVE TO HATE

Across the world and across leagues, who would want a referee’s job? The vast majority are unknown, unpraised, and without doubt, underpaid. They deal with players of varying talent committing varying offences – many unseen by partisan crowds. They perform this work with one aim, to help the match progress evenly and entertainingly. Yet it’s not uncommon, at full-time, for them to be escorted from the pitch by police or armed guards, to be criticized openly by the media, chased and abused by spectators, spat upon, kicked and punched.

Prior to the vast influx of money into football from television and sponsorship over the last three decades, refereeing was a vocation enabled through outside work. In the 1970s, training was a solitary, personal responsibility, on call to travel at a moment’s notice and not ask for anything more in return than a travel allowance and expenses – and, when in action, to be considered as the 23rd player on the pitch. Then, after years of hard work, perhaps achieving the status of being a member of the FIFA refereeing fraternity and being chosen to officiate at a World Cup tournament, when they would proudly pack their bags and fly to a destination knowing that whatever happens they carry the tag of ‘the men you love to hate.’

For in the end, it will be their split-second decisions, right or wrong to the biased eye, which will decide the outcome of the World Cup.

A HISTORIC DECISION

The 1966 World Cup Final is into extra-time, with the score standing at two goals apiece. After ten minutes England score. Geoff Hurst smashes the ball against the underside of the crossbar; in a flash it bounces down in the goalmouth and every English player in the goal area leaps with joy. The Wembley crowd roar. In that split second, Gottfried Dienst, the Swiss referee who has been officiating the match so well, seems undecided on whether to award the goal immediately. For a moment, with 22 players on the Wembley turf pausing, he has to decide if the shot is true, and the ball has crossed the German goal-line. Herr Dienst is immediately surrounded by protesting German players and Wembley and the world become hushed as he rushes over to his Russian linesman, Tofik Bakhramov. There is a brief exchange of gestures – for the language barrier would not have permitted more – and then comes the sight of Herr Dienst pointing to the centre circle. The goal will stand, his decision is final and England are on the way to World Cup glory.

In that brief moment, one man had made a decision that could justify or destroy four years of preparation by FIFA and every competing nation, especially England and West Germany. A decision had to be made; the global audience demanded it. To this day there could be no single person present in that great and famous stadium who would have willingly changed place with Herr Dienst. Bakhramov, the linesman, who had not reached the corner flag and therefore was not in line with the goal, could in this situation only nod his approval and help his senior official. All-the political implications laid at Bakhramov’s feet must be totally ignored, for here was another dedicated international referee required to ‘run the line’ in this final, a man who was honoured to be so selected and to carry out his work to the best of his ability. However, the football world has never been shown conclusive proof that it was or was not a goal, even with all the technical advantages of the eyes of television playbacks, the slow-motion film of many movie cameras and the snapping shutters of a host of still cameras.

One man, out in the middle, in all probability as he moved across to his linesman, made up the minds of the world. It was his job, and he was the only person for whom it was impossible in that now historic moment to say, ‘I don’t know’.

Once upon a time, when the World Cup was young, refereeing used to be a gentlemanly affair, conducted in a far more friendly atmosphere with the arbitre running up and down the pitch in cap and plus-fours. But with the upsurge of nationalistic pride – and prejudice – not to mention the advent of television with all the pressures that mass exposure brought to the game, and the sometimes cruel defensive play practised with crash tackling and claustrophobic marking, the international and World Cup referee has become the man very much in the middle — lonely, isolated, his every decision instantly replayed and analysed before an audience of a billion. His wish to be regarded as the 23rd player is rarely granted.

Consequently, top referees are a tough breed, or must be seen to be before, during and after the match, however much they smart and hurt in private.

They are expected by their judges to combine the wisdom of Solomon with the stamina of a long-distance runner. It takes a mixture of resilience, masochism and egotism to submit yourself willingly to derision, scorn, anger and often personal violence, and yet still be capable of making fair and impartial decisions, like the swift decision Gottfried Dienst was expected to do.

THE MAN WHO INVENTED REFEREEING

Sir Stanley Rous spent 27 years as Secretary of the Football Association and 13 years as President of FIFA. This much loved and highly respected man has served football with great enthusiasm and dedication, shaping the international game and the World Cup as we now know it. At the same time, he has been responsible for developing refereeing to cope with the new demands made upon referees in the world arena.

This imposing yet gentle man is synonymous with the World Cup and when defeated by the narrowest of margins in the 1974 FIFA election in Frankfurt by Dr Joao Havelange, he was immediately made Honorary President of FIFA.

He was born in the village of Mutford, near Beccles in Suffolk, in the spring of 1895. There was no sporting activity at all in the little village until the young Rous started his schooling. From the age of thirteen he attended the St John Leman School in Beccles, cycling every day back and forth to Mutford. On arriving at the school, he knew nothing of football, but was quickly attracted to the game and became a member of the school team. After about a year he had the confidence to bring back a football to Mutford, with the sole intention of starting a football team there. The sporting educationalist and administrator was already present in this 14-year-old boy. He built up a team of local farmers, fishermen and their sons, taught them the rudiments of the game and created enough interest to arrange matches, conducted properly, within the village. Interest was soon created across the district, with other villages rapidly taking up the game and organizing their own teams.

In due course Rous was invited to play in goal for Kirkley Football Club, a member of the Norfolk and Suffolk Senior League. He was eventually asked to join Lowestoft FC, but this was literally within days of joining his battalion, for the 1914-18 War was now to interrupt his education and footballing prowess. For the duration of the war, he served with the Royal Artillery in France, Egypt and Palestine. He played football for his battalion during those years and did a little refereeing in Egypt. When the war was over, Rous resumed his education at St Lukes, Exeter, where he was appointed captain of football and tennis teams. But his sporting days had been damaged by the war; he had suffered a shrapnel wound in Palestine which permanently affected his right wrist.

The refereeing experience in Egypt, however, was soon put to use, and after a short while Rous was enjoying the task of refereeing. He moved on to a schoolmaster’s job at Watford Grammar School, where he taught and was sports master from 1921 to 1934. It was difficult to arrange football fixtures in those years, so rugby was played and Rous had the valuable experience of organizing rugby matches and refereeing. During this time, he also progressed as a football referee, and he was soon a qualified Class I football referee. Progress was rapid and he was appointed linesman for the 1926 FA Cup Final, in which Manchester City beat Bolton 1-0. In the following seven years he officiated in 34 international matches overseas and his second FA Cup Final at Wembley in 1934, Manchester City beating Portsmouth 2-1.

During this period, Rous accidentally ‘invented’ refereeing for the modern game.

It happened at Luton. Just before the match was to begin in pouring rain, the pitch a sea of mud almost ankle deep, Rous realized that he would never be able to keep up with the play – a slow plod from one end to the other would probably be the best he could manage! He hurriedly suggested to his linesmen that they should each take one line of forwards with himself concentrating on the mid-field. Up to now, linesmen had run up and down each of the two touchlines, sometimes dead in line with the referee.

He also told them not to be too concerned with the barracking they might receive from the terraces and stands. It worked; in fact, it worked a great deal better than Rous had imagined. He went home that night, made notes, and drew diagrams. He called it ‘the diagonal system’. In 1936, after being Secretary of the FA for two years, he rewrote the laws of the game to include the diagonal system of control. The system was adopted by the International Board and within four years it was accepted universally.

The Diagonal System Of Control - Notes:

The imaginary diagonal used by the Referee is the line A-B.

The opposite diagonal used by the Linesmen is adjusted to the position of the Referee; if the Referee is near A, Linesman L2 will be at a point between M and K. When the Referee is at B, Linesman L1 will be between E and F;; this gives two officials control of the respective ‘danger zones’, one at each side of the field.

Linesman L1 adopts the Reds as his side; Linesman L2 adopts the Blues; as Red forwards move towards Blue goal, Linesman L1 keeps in line with second last Blue defender so in actual practice he will rarely get into Red’s half of the field. Similarly, Linesman L2 keeps in line with second last Red defender and will rarely get into Blue’s half. At corner-kicks or penalty-kicks the Linesman in that half where the corner-kick or penalty-kick occurs positions himself at N and the Referee takes position.

The diagonal system fails if Linesman L2 gets between G and H when Referee is at B, or when Linesman L1 is near C or D when the Referee is at A, because there are two officials at the same place. This should be avoided.

(Some Referees prefer to use the opposite diagonal, viz., from F to M, in which case the Linesmen should adjust their work accordingly.)

It was during his refereeing years that Stanley Rous became increasingly respected by both the English administrators of the game and FIFA, not just as a referee, where his theories could be proved in practice, but concerning the game generally where his comments were always lucid and of value.

He came to FIFA’s notice when refereeing a match between Holland and Belgium in Amsterdam. The Executive Committee of FIFA happened to be meeting at the same time and in the same place. The FIFA officials thought he handled the match ‘impeccably’ and ‘refereed in a large and sensible manner’. There was crowd trouble and instead of stopping play whilst calm was restored, which might have added to the stress of the situation, he carried on and order was swiftly achieved. He was appointed a Senior International Referee for this ‘strict application of the rules and letting the game flow’.

Rous, like virtually all top-class referees and players, usually felt a little nervous before an international, but had no fear which might disturb his handling of the game. He always expected to be in charge, he had authority and through experience used it sensibly. There was one occasion, though, when he was touched with fear. It was a game between Hungary and Italy in Budapest – the first to have a live radio commentary – a stormy, gruelling match in which a Hungarian player’s leg was broken. Rous managed to keep order until five minutes from time, when a savage tackle laid out another Hungarian. The crowd went wild – even the trainer didn’t dare tread the pitch. Eighty thousand cardboard megaphones drowned the stadium in a screeching protest. The game was restarted with only two minutes remaining. Finding himself opposite the players’ exit, Rous quickly blew for full-time. Afterwards, when listening to protests that he ended the match early, he attempted no excuses. His answer was simple: ‘I was the time-keeper’.

Players in general had great respect for Rous and his reputation. A French player learned how not to treat a top referee during a match that needed strict handling: he suddenly rushed up to Rous and said what he thought of him. Rous replied: ‘You don’t think much of my refereeing?’ ‘Bloody well, no!’ A slight pause, then: ‘You had better get off then. You go because I am staying on the pitch’. The player walked off the pitch very quietly.

As Secretary of the FA two of Rous’ chief aims were developing the ‘grass roots’ of football – youth teams, youth competitions, schoolboy football – as well as raising refereeing standards and increasing the quantity of quality men. When he was elected President of FIFA at their Congress in 1961, two of his continuing priorities were developing the International Youth Tournament and holding the first International Referee’s Course. He achieved this and progress was swiftly made.

In refereeing, England was once more teaching the world, for there is no doubt that England and Scotland had the best and most efficient referees when Rous arrived at FIFA Headquarters. A series of courses and seminars, first across Europe but then elsewhere, and continuing each year, brought a uniform standard of refereeing throughout the world. Every member country of FIFA submits through their national association, each season, up to seven International Referees, and they are expected to be of a high standard.

‘There is no substitute for skill’ is a quote used hundreds of times by Sir Stanley. He preached this belief right across the sporting world to players and referees of all sports; ‘no person should be deprived of improving his sporting pursuits through lack of coaching and then personal application.’

Through his years with FIFA, travelling the world and setting up referee’s coaching courses, having films made on the subject and constantly bringing out publications, Rous without doubt brought about an immense uniformity in applying the laws in theory and, most importantly, in practice on the pitch.

Stanley Rous’ foreword to FIFA’s Handbook For Referee Instructors contains some lines that are applicable to every generation, as timely when it was written to any sport now and in the future:

‘The work FIFA has done so far should have created a nucleus of people in most countries able to undertake the leadership of courses. Where this has not yet happened then, of course, FIFA will continue to help… Refereeing has become more difficult in recent years for two reasons: firstly, there is a much greater number of games played at a higher level, international club matches are increasing, and they require good officials who are not only familiar with the laws but courageous in interpreting them. The types of player are changing also, and there is need for greater insight into how to handle players and how to deal with situations on the field involving this new breed of player, especially when the stakes are now so high. Increasingly the game needs men of good intellect to act as officials, men who not only understand the grammar of the laws but the spirit of the game.’

THE MEN YOU LOVE TO HATE (II)

IT WOULDN'T HAPPEN IN THE PARK
A BRAVE REFEREE
GREAT DEVELOPMENTS IN FOUR YEARS