Referees are shaping up to being the real stars of 2010. Last year it was the fellow from Kerry who hit the Cork man a slap, danced on top of the podium and headed back to Australia the next day. The year before that it was a small bearded Kerryman who threw a tantrum at a referee. There’s usually someone who hogs the limelight. This time, though, it appears that it’s the whole clattering of men in the middle who are going to steal the back pages for the rest of the summer, and rightly so. Too often the most important individual on the field is ignored when it comes to fashion shoots, double page spreads and sponsorship deals. Fair enough, they maybe a carrying a wee bit more timber and the hair might be thinning compared to a 26-year old starlet but that doesn’t mean they should be overlooked when the perks of the game are handed out.
Now referees have the chance to get their foot in the door of this lucrative GAA suite. The recent controversies will see all eyes on referees for the rest of the season from the moment they run out from their changing room. Some will love the attention. There’ll be boys like McEnaney and Duffy at the barbers on the Saturday evening getting all manner of visible hair trimmed for the cameras and women. The egos will go into overdrive. All shapes and sizes of whistles will appear on the scene with modifications made like hanging charms or fluffy add-ons. Just wait and see.
They say all goalkeepers have a bit of a madness in them from birth. Referees must have that, only doubled at least. Why on earth would you volunteer to be the most hated man in the vicinity by both sets of players and supporters? When you throw into the pot the fact that they know the game cannot proceed without them there’s always the chance that this absolute power will go to their heads completely. They can affect the amount of football any lad plays in subsequent games, the holiday plans of all the local families and the general mood of the parish. That’s some power. Priests would do anything for that. So it’s no wonder that now and again they lose all run of themselves completely and logic goes out the window.
Back in the day, in the absence of mobile phone video recording technology and the BBC, referees got away with much more extreme behaviour than they do now. I’ve written before about the different breeds of referee. There’s the rogue ref, a race of officiating that died out during the 80s when they introduced referee assessors. The rogue would side with one of the teams in the bookies beforehand and do his utmost to make sure they won by practising some outrageous tactics. One such ref from my time in The Loup was known for bouncing the ball over the bar for a throw-up or awarding penalties for offences as far away as the 45m line. Then there’s the completely incompetent official, another dying breed. He got on the refereeing panel because he was the son of a county chairman or the like. He had no idea of the rules and sometimes unaware of the teams’ names he was presiding over but was free from criticism because of his father’s influence over the whole county. He’d change his mind five minutes after the initial decision was made. You’d have gotten plenty of this type in Antrim and Armagh.
Finally, and this is the only sect still abundant throughout the fields of Ireland today, there’s the dictator. You’ll find boys like this in Down and Tyrone. He’ll book anyone who even looks like someone who’d argue with him. They speak in a headmaster’s tone and call all players ‘boy’, even to the likes of Linden and Canavan in their twilight years. They’ll never change a decision and will line anyone who dares to question any call he has made throughout the game. This branch of the refereeing race are the type of men who can make hay in the current climate. They’ll cash in on the attention over the coming months with interviews in lads’ mags and late night chat shows. Think about it. Gearoid O Conamha, Pat McEnaney, Leo Smyth, Joe McQuillan and Padraig Hughes will be modelling for shops in Dungannon or Newry, doing those ‘5 mins with’ questionnaires or taking part in celebrity endurance reality shows on the television. Bannon, Sludden and Crowe have grabbed the headlines over the years and have now paved the way for a new generation of referee who’ll be chased by screaming women down the streets of Cushendall or Keady.
Sure won’t it great for the average punter in the future. In the past you felt a bit bad that you were verbally abusing a man who was giving up his free time to carry out a thankless and daunting task. He had to go home to someone who was still complaining that he’d forgotten to get the milk that morning. Now, in the knowledge that he has some young blonde at home and a six-figure deal with Dunne Stores or the like, you feel that you’re entitled to give it hell for leather from behind the fence if he starts to annoy you again with the prancing about and posh shouting. He’ll be fair game with his Brillo-Creamed hair implants and golden whistle. All will be well with the world.
