STEVE'S BLOG 7 - The Musings Of A Grumpy Old Prop.

Reproduced with the permission of the Cornish Pirates June 19th 2009

Steve's Blog will be a feature of the new Pirates website (coming soon), but for now everyone will have chance to read & join in here

What Does It Take To Be A Referee?

The next time you feel inclined to shout at a referee at Camborne that he "should have gone to Specsavers" (or in all probability something rather less polite) just ask yourself the question as to whether you have ever tried to do it yourself.

I did - just once - and vowed that I would never do it again. I was still in the Sixth Form at Humphry Davy when our wonderful sports master and Pirate stalwart, the late Bob Horne, suggested I take a first form inter-house match for him. I thought it would be easy enough but how wrong can you be.

The game was set for what was then known as the 'top pitch' which was actually an evil-smelling morass which shelved from side to side rather like the lower slopes of Ben Nevis. Indeed its only positive point was that it lay right next to the path leading up to the Girl's School where we could gaze lustfully at their legs when they walked to and fro for lunch.

My problems began before the game had even started and controlling thirty eleven year olds who didn't really want to be there in the first place was quite a challenge.

Three boys had 'forgotten' their boots, one insisted upon playing in his scarf as he felt the cold and another produced a note from his mother to say that he must be excused all games as he had nits. Having somehow got the game started two lads began a mud fight and one of the props began to cry.

"Go all right Steve?" asked Bob cheerfully when I returned his whistle an hour later. I have no idea what I said in reply - by then I was a gibbering wreck.

Getting back to the opening question, there are about three 'musts' before any referee can even take the field. Clearly he must have a thorough knowledge of the Laws of the Game. This is obvious but easier said than done - not least as the IRB keeps messing about with them. They must also be physically fit enough to not only keep up with play but to be in a good position to see what is actually going on in the dark recesses of the pileups.

Then they have to be not only totally impartial but call every situation as they see it. They must never be influenced by any outside pressures - be they mouthy captains, noisy spectators or even trying to help the underdog. All these are a 'given' and to be fair no referee gets any where near a League match without fulfilling these criteria 100%.

The difference between an average and a very good one comes in refereeing the breakdowns consistently and playing the advantage rule to the extent of giving players and spectators as much leeway as possible whilst still retaining absolute control.

Finally there is the all important area of 'man management' which calls for not only eyes in the back of his head, but tact, humour and clear communication skills. Sounds easy but next time you see a really hard fought tussle battled out without recourse to a spate of yellow cards take a moment to consider just how that was achieved.

The IRB have managed to sort out the lineout fairly well over the past decade or so but the scrum remains a mess. This is not least due to the two conflicting ideologies of whether the front rows are the front trenches in the battle for possession or just a convenient way of restarting the match and giving the ball to the non-offenders after a minor infringement.

In recent years referees have been encouraged to let the advantage go much longer - sometimes through two or three phases - and some top referees like Nigel Owens and Alain Rolland have almost turned it into an art form. As such they contribute hugely to the enjoyment of the players, crowd and TV audiences as a result.

Man management and communication with tact? Ah that's the clincher! I recall being captain in a minor club match at Le Havre and the French referee (who apparently spoke not a word of English) penalised our scrum-half about ten times for crooked feeds.

Exasperated he finally dummied and just held onto the ball but the man blew yet again for the same offence. "Look you stupid blind **** its still in my ****ing hands!" yelled our feisty number nine right into his ear.

My heart sank and I had awful visions of a sending off and a minor diplomatic incident. Instead the referee just smiled sweetly at him and said in broken Franglais "Monsieur your apology eez accepted" and then calmly reset the scrum. I could have kissed him.