My first season (perhaps more of a half-season) has drawn to a close, and because of a planned seven-month trip to Canada, it may well be my only season as a referee for a while.
Back in March I decided to quit from refereeing men's football. It was only through miscommunication that I ended up there in the first place - I asked the County Officer for the number of a local league, and he, not knowing of my tender age, sent me through to the Devon & Exeter Football League. In every match, I was the youngest man on the pitch, and it was consequently very difficult to exert the same control one could have over, for example, an under-14s match. I only started refereeing youth football in December, and found it quite a shock just how comparatively 'easy' it was. I often found myself taking my lack of confidence from my Saturday men's game into my Sunday youth game, but my decision to resign almost freed me, and my refereeing has improved no end - to the point that I am actually a little disappointed that the season has ended!
My most memorable experience undoubtedly came in March, when I was appointed to a game in the town of Bovey Tracey. For 80 minutes, the game was a rather dull encounter - no goals and, from me, no cards. Then, the home side's forward collided with the away side's on-rushing goalkeeper, and couldn't move off the pitch. The two teams put their differences aside as they applauded the player as he was lifted into the ambulance - clearly an emotional day for him, having requested a minute's silence for his friend, tragically killed on holiday. This, I thought, was a primary example of how football can bring people together, and the togetherness shown by the players in that moment was a joy to behold. One could forgive me for being a little surprised, when, in the final ten minutes of the game, both teams proceeded to kick the living daylights out of other. The niggly challenges from the first half were now nasty lunges, the playful banter now loud cursing. Just as the game is nearing its end, I hear one of the players spitting behind me. Unfortunately, the 'behind me' part is especially important here, and, having no clue who had spat at who, decided to play on - cue the fairly standard calls of "you don't know what you're doing ref!", and the title of this very blog, "you're not fit to referee!". Undoubtedly from people who have never even considered being the man (or woman) in the middle of the park, but sometimes, there's just no pleasing people.
It's easy to remember the bad things and forget the good moments. That match, and perhaps two or three others, stand out, yet I have refereed nearly thirty games this season, most of which have passed without incident. While there is still a lot of work to be done with regards to improving the respect shown to officials, the behaviour of the majority - players, coaches, supporters and, dare I say it: club-appointed linesmen - has been impeccable, and most games have been a pleasure to referee. I might have even gone as far as to say some of the football I have seen has been of an excellent standard, but as the 'new' referees are often confined to the lower divisions, I think I'll leave that until another time!
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