“ON THE BALL."

Temuka Leader, Issue 7330, 7 June 1913, Page 6

“ON THE BALL."

“SOCCER ’’—COMMENTS AND CRITICISMS. Things Seen and Not Seen by the Referee. By H. THOMPSON.

Illustrated by Chas. Grave. (Copyright.)

A REFEREE in a football match sees and hears many things. He must take particular notice of everything he sees, and absolutely no notice of almost everything he hears. lec referee-baiting is not quite the popuiai sport it is represented to be by comic artists, and for my part I always say to myself, “ Well, it amuses them and it does not hurt mo,” when the wild men of the football world shout nasty.thingregarding my eyesight, my ability, m.> impartiality, and even my anceswy i take this sort of thing as all in tac day’s work, let it pass at that, and an very grateful for the crumbs of humpui thrown at me occasionally by a footbalcrowd in a critical mood. Unco an excited individual roarer, ‘ Can t yersee a foul unless it’s got feathers Oil, ret. i think if a player had said that I •should have sent him off the held, ana reported him as a football criminal of the deepest dye, who ought to bo buspended for tho rest of lus life. But players do say funny things sometimes. “ Holy Moses! Did ye see that trip?” cried a dashing lush toiWard during a hot mix-up m the goalmouth. 1 had seen nothing, so the game went on. Alter the niatbh the Irish lad, on© of the best the Green Isle ever bred, tackled me quietly and seriously about what he really thought was a glaring infringement. He may have ■ been right —a referee cannot see everything—and, not wishing to argue tns point, I evaded it —rather neatly, as 1 thought—'by saying, “ My name is no I . Holy Moses, who mas. if you remember, the gentleman you asked for a decision.” Like a shot came the reply, “ ’Tis right ye are, bedad; an’ ’tis as little ye know about football as the same Moses did when he was aslape in the bulrushes.” After this, I have no more to wnto about things I have heard in connection with my refereeing, and will keep my remarks strictly within the limits defined by the title of this article. The positron of a referee ■ enables him to enjoy’ a peculiar mew of tho game- He does not get the general and extended survey which falls to the happy lot of the favoured spectator in a good Seat, but hie proximity to tho players in action shows him many beautiful, deft touches which must be wit-

own man. The ball spun back without a great deal of pace on it, and it v*s funny to see the strenuous efforts toe goalie made to struggle home■ m time to effect a save. But the ball beat him bv inches only, and a goal was scored while the unfortunate, back was turning round and round in dazed fashion, wondering what had hit him. I once saw a goalkeeper in a similai condition, in an important League fixture, too. A forward got his foot to the ball with terrific force about a dozen yards from goal, and so quid: was the* shot that the goalkeeper, tram ■ cd man as he was, simply had no time even to raise his hands to save hi 3 face. The ball struck him fair between the eyes and spun almost straight up in the air for a good twenty yards, to

drop eventually just behind the goal. After which, I may add, the game was stopped for slight repairs to the goalkeeper, who, when he came to, vowed he “ would never head any more out like,that.” Watching the hacks gives the referee plenty to do. Their position usually

nessed at close quarters to be appreciated aa they deserve. He also sees the other side of the shield —the breaking (wilfully, seldon —unintentionally, often) of the many ana diverse lavs laid down for the propc. government of football. In connection with the latter there is much he does not see—in a Oopenhangen sense, of course. Take a goalkeeper, for example. 'lire strict letter of the law only allows him two steps with tho / ball in his hands. But suppose that when in possession of the ball he as charged and knocked three or four steps—what then F Surely there is nothing fer it except the unseeing eye? Again, some custodians are so quick in their movements that luiless you are right on the man. it is often a physical impossibility for a referee to be certain‘whether or not a third step has been taken; he can only give the player the Benefit of the doubt. The work of a goalkeeper is hard enough, without the referee coining down at all heavily on the man. Very clever it is, too, especially' when the goalie is a master of- the art of placing himself in anticipation of a shot in just the one place where a forward has the absolute minimum of goal-space to shoot at. I have seen a quaint thing or two in connection with goalkeeping. During an important amateur match this season I saw a big back rush across the field to keep off an eager' forward,

who was following up a slowly-moving ball. The goalkeeper dashed out, gave the leather a mighty kick, and sent it bang in the nape of the neck of his

I has its hearing on the possibilities of an Infringement of tho offside rule, and it , is also very pretty to see them at work, especially when a really great pair of hacks like the famous brothers Walters are on the field. Fearless _ and fair tackling, clean and clever kicking, adminabl judgment in placing the ball at tho feet of their own forwards, and mutual support and co-operation—these are qualities I often have tho pleasure

of seeing when a really capable pair of backs are striving with might and main to save their side. A good back becomes a second goalkeeper on occasion, and there is surely no more thrilling moment on a football field than when a dropping or bouncing ball is sailing under the cross-bar, and a back, with a splendid running jump, dears with a flying overhead kick. Back play has its ludicrous side, especially when an ultra-cute defender passes back to Ins goalkeeper, and makes a sorry hash oi things by popping in .a sljot which would have done credit to a forward on the opposing side. 1 suppose, however, that a hard-pressed back may be ox poptecl to do weird things, and I cor la inly remember one case where a defender in a tight corner made a decided impression on a man’s face with the solo of his boot, and yet was really the injured party, strictly according to the rules of the game. It happened like this. The ball was bobbing and bonne ing about in the goal-mouth in that thrilling stylo which makes spectators rise in their seats and sets the goalkeeper jumping all over the place, when a back, a tall chap, shaped for a high, kick at the ball. A minute fraction of time after tire back had fixed his eye

on the ball and begun to swing his foot for the effort a riva.l forward, a shortish man, darted forward to gain impetus for a leap which he hoped would enable him to head the ball into the

“ Tbe back’s foot and the forward? head came in contac^ d w^ h S qlo in perfect unison, and so (no u t of the back’s boot with the lace of the. forward.

contact v ith the tho baok N foot with the face of the Snst him, for he was guilty of dam ’ -f „ vp ,. a man was, au. methods “ S“hi s IdcU w-tv towards the ball, the case would K> C. altogether <ljJrent • 1 should have awarded a fiee kick nun out a moment’s hesitation, ol hin" of the by no means remote possi bility of ordering the offender oft the f) Fro.n this it must net hast% inferred that I am m f avour ef puUmg a man up for vigorous and' energe ,ic ioiethods, always provided » aclean as it- is strenuous. Football is no game for those incapable of giving and taking hard knocks as part of . - sport, .and if a back usess his weight and strength fairly—well, that is what ho is there for. But the sly trip, the vicious jab with the elbow at close quarters. and that dirty and deliberate tap on the ankle which paralyzes an opponent and may lame him.for a season -—these arc the things which make. m.» whistle toot and move my tongue to a sharp “caution,” which means “ march ‘ing orders” next time. Happily,.those offences arc rnr©j and axo diminishing with a gratifying rapidity which points to their complete extinction at no distant date. Players, public, and foot ball legislators side with the referee m sterning suppressing these shady .practices, and nowadays a player who is known to have a weakness for foul play i ssure to b© dropped, from any decent*' team, no matter what his general football ability may be. So far, so good. But it is a big mistake to emasculate the game- in tho vain endeavour to cope with the low dodges of those who do not mean to play it, who take tho field with the sot purpose of doing anything they' than: the referee will not sec, and which eu • ■ables them to gain an advantage. It is impossible to legislate effective.-y against this type, and by attempting too much in this direction there is considerable danger of spoiling the game. Honest charges never hurt football, and never will, and it is quite possible lor any amount of it to be done nthout the least tendency to foul play. 1 should think there never was more straightforward charging seen in ! any match than there was in the first Army v. Navy game at Queen’s Club, when the late King Edward and the then Prince of Wales were present. It was a sight for gods and men to see tho way Jack and Tommy banged into each other with right good will; but never a man was hurt, and the referee had a very easy time. Charging, even if heavy, is not without its touch of inci dental humour, I was once refereeing a match where there was a difference of some throe or four stone in weight between a particularly nippy forward and a back who was certainly not afraid to use his weight fairly, to say the least of it. The pair met several times, but always with the same result—tho light forward siranlv bounced off tho big hack and went to earth with more ccle lity than comfort. But. he came up surfing every time, and never shirked a charge or showed the .least resentment until I blow thoj whistle for “ time.” Afterwards, however, in the dress ing-room, he turned to tho hefty lack and said, with the same unvaryi. g snide, “ 1 say, old chap, you don't happen.to belong to the legal profession, do you? ” Intention is the determining factor between football which is straight but

tnent, no doubt, but not seen by referees who know their business. If,‘on the contrary, tho man uses his hands to push off an opponent, or to play a kind of leap-frog to get his head to "the ball, then tho whistle must sound. But not otherwise, as my view of tho matter is that the public does not pay its money to hear me oblige with a whistling solo, but wants to see tho game, and nothing but the game, Players, too, are not interested in my lung power. They want to play football—not keep stopping in response to the ever-ready whistle of a referee who undoubtedly has splendid eyes to fee, but no blind side for uso when the spirit of tho game demands a transient exhibition of masterly inactivity. It is often a very nice question whether or not the whistle should sound, especially as there arc ways and means of doing fair things unfairly on the football field. This contradiction needs a little explaining, but the point becomes only too clear when one forward •is the outstanding istajr-artistfe of a team —the main-spring of combination and th© greatest scoring force on his side. Such a player is known and

hard-fonght and football which is dirty and dangerous. If I see a man's eyes looking unutterable things, and his lips quivering with the unspoken intention of “ getting his own back,” theu that player becomes the object of my most special attention, and is brought up sharp at the least sign of infringement. I do soo everything a man does when he is in that mood, but .1 do not sec the little technical faults which have no real bearing on the progress of any particular game and are obviously unintentional. Suppose, for example, that a thrusting and. forceful half-back is besot by a pair of clover wingers, who arc tapping the. ball to each other and adroitly avoiding tackle after tackle. Then something goes wrong with the ‘tip-tap business, and the half and the forwards arc mixed tin 'in a hot tussle tor the hall. The half gets in his kick, and as he does so happens to touch one of his opponents with outstretched hand, in circumstances which show that his action was a perfectly natural one. due to the bod ypose essential to got the ball away, A technical infriiige-

marked, and receives particular attention from tho defenders against ham. Ho must expect this, but when tho “ attention ” takes the form of two or three men charging at him simultaneously and systematically, it may be within the letter of the law, but it is most decidedly not the game. In such circumstances I interpret the rule referring to “ violent ” or “ dangerous ” play in its broadest sense, but the un fortunate part of it is that the whistle may sound after the mischief has been done. Indeed, the great footballer may be next to knocked out of the match without the referee having the faintest excuse to blow his whistle. But, all the same, such conduct, organized and deliberate, is dead against that unwritten law of British fair play which is the salt of every description of manly sport, and if persistcd m will tend to degrade a grand game to the level of a gladiatorial spectacle. It is so needless, too, as the opposing star can alwavs be dimmed quite fairly. The manner in which Needham baulked Bloomer in an historic Cup final is a case in point. That magnifi cent half simply followed Bloomer ali over tho field like his shadow. Ho never left him, no matter where the ball went, and tho result was that whenever the loathr came near Bloomer lucre was Needham on the spot to worry his man, which lie did most of f entirely. But it was all clean, and honest, and may fairly be quoted as extraordinary but perfectly permissible and justifiable football tactics devised

to meet the needs of a special ease. Tho many variations of the off-side rule give tho referee plenty to observe and act upon, and no department of the game is more fruitful in opportunities for vehement criticism from the crowd. Here, however, the referee has very little on which to exercise his discretionary powers. If a man is offside, that ends the matter, and the influence of accident on tho fact, so important m other infringements, is not to be considered. I should like to shatter one very common delusion regarding tho offside rule, which is that simply because a man is in an offside position flic game must be stopped. But to be offside in effect a man must act; he cannot be passively offside. Tho rule says that when offside a man shall nol “ play the ball or in any way interfere, with the play or an opponent,” and to me it seems quite plain that until he does so ho has been guilty of no offence. Personally, if I was a. keen supporter of a team, I should like to see the opposing forwards take up offside positions ais much as they pleased, simply because they are out of the game until they are brought a aside by a change in position. There are other nice points far to complicated to interest mv. readers. Even experts differ widely on certain aspects of the offside rule, and the only final and comprehensive verdiet 1 ever heard concerning it was that supplied by a keen partisan, who smd: “ Offside—yos, I know all about li - 1 hat’s what’s always given against our team.”

Among other things which the referee does not see _is the hall which hits him somewhere m the by ok, occasionally with more force than is compatible with his dignified control of the game at the moment. This sort of thing has hanpened to mo more than once, and, al rhongh I have never heen aide to' see anything desperately funny in it vet I can vouch that as a comic turn it‘is hr .ar the greatest success scon on a footheld Act why should even the minor misfortunes of a football referee excite nothing more human than tlie appreciative laughter of tho multitude* ,s hoonnsp tlw> froivd regnids a referee as a species of autocrat i\ ho is humanized when his di.r n i|,r E npset hy a Hying ha)!. This mav‘ ho tnio of a referee hern and there; but most of them take a far different view of their duties and rmsitimi. M\* idea of refereeing is not that I an, the man who must be obeyed; I keen tl.atph.se of my position m the background, and take tm whistle in hand with the idea of seeing snort and actively assisting twenty-two other sportsmen bv just h'vuig them a friendly “ toot-Wt! '

when, by mere chance, they happen to infringe on© of the many laws without which football would degenerate into ,a meaningless scramble.