Seeing Red. Graham Poll
Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу Seeing Red - Graham Poll страница 4

Название: Seeing Red

Автор: Graham Poll

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Биографии и Мемуары

Серия:

isbn: 9780007279982

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ me any points for it. All was going swimmingly.

      I was scheduled to referee Tottenham versus Chelsea. It was a Sunday afternoon game, which would be televised live, on 5 November. Inevitably, Sky TV’s pre-publicity asked, ‘Will there be fireworks on Bonfire Day?’ They obviously hoped the answer would be ‘Yes’. I was desperate for a ‘No’. Sky got their wish.

       CHAPTER THREE

      Chelsea on the Attack

      At the start of every season, referees note the fixtures they consider ‘golden games’ – the top matches. In the Premier League they are the fixtures between the top four clubs and the derby games with the fiercest rivalries. Tottenham against Chelsea was not quite up there in that top rank, but it was certainly near the top of the next tier. For me, games at Tottenham’s White Hart Lane were enjoyable for two reasons. Firstly, they were easy for me geographically – the hotel in which officials gather before the match is a shortish drive from my home – and the second reason I enjoyed games at White Hart Lane was that the club looked after officials and their guests particularly hospitably.

      The problem is that referees’ guests are seated two rows from the front, in a section next to some of the noisiest, most partisan away supporters. So, although nothing in the buildup led me to think that the game would be in any way out of the ordinary, on that 5 November my wife and children heard a few choice adjectives about me.

      Chelsea scored first, after fifteen minutes. Spurs failed to clear a corner and Claude Makelele spanked in a twenty-five-yard, swerving volley. A few moments later, I spotted John Terry pushing and shoving as the ball came over for a corner and so I awarded a free-kick to Spurs. It was a perfectly straightforward decision but, after I had whistled, Didier Drogba headed the ball into the Spurs net. Spurs goalkeeper Paul Robinson had heard my whistle, and made no real attempt to stop the header, but Chelsea supporters thought, briefly, that their team had doubled their lead.

      Instead, Tottenham equalized after twenty-four minutes. Jermaine Jenas took a free-kick and Michael Dawson, Tottenham’s six foot two inch defender, scored with a glancing header.

      The first refereeing flashpoint was at what should have been a routine free-kick, moments before half-time. It was away on Tottenham’s right wing and should not have perturbed Chelsea at all, yet Makelele and Ashley Cole would not go back ten yards. When Makelele retreated, Cole edged forward, and vice versa. They both knew I was not going to let them get away with that, so perhaps their pantomime was designed to take the mickey and undermine my authority.

      I paced out the distance and called out, ‘Claude, Coley … back you come … just here … please.’

      They stayed put. Cole told me to ‘F*** off’.

      I did not send him off for that. I know that those who disapprove of all swearing during a match will contend that I should have done; but I did caution both Makelele and Cole. I had done all I could to get them to retreat sensibly.

      Aaron Lennon put Spurs ahead seven minutes into the second half. He controlled Robbie Keane’s deflected centre and then placed his careful shot out of the reach of Hilario. After sixty-three minutes, I cautioned Terry when he felled Dimitar Berbatov in full flow. Terry’s was the sixth name in my book and had no particular significance to either of us at that moment.

      But as my watch ticked off the minutes, Chelsea, whose discipline had been poor all game, began to look spooked by the possibility of defeat. The Press Association reporter at the game wrote, ‘Chelsea had been clearly rattled by Tottenham’s fightback.’

      Michael Ballack gave me some verbals, and when I cautioned him for dissent, a group of Chelsea players surrounded me. I restored order and dispersed the posse of players but felt it had been a concerted attempt to intimidate me. It was probably instinctive and not deliberate, but I made a mental note that I would have to report it.

      Then, at a corner, Terry grappled with Tottenham defender Ledley King. He grabbed King’s arm and dragged him to the ground. I realized that I would have to send Terry off if I cautioned him again, but my honest, instinctive opinion was that the incident deserved a booking. If it had been a player who had not been cautioned already, it would not have been an issue, and so fairness required that I took his name, again.

      A group of Spurs players, including Pascal Chimbonda, were confronting Terry and, as they did so, the Chelsea player began moving away from the penalty area. But he collided with Hossam Ghaly and I knew that, if I didn’t act quickly, there would be a really ugly scene. I called Terry over, showed him the yellow and then the red cards, and he left the field without a mutter of complaint. No other Chelsea players protested about their captain’s dismissal either – although they had complained about nearly every other decision throughout the game.

      They found enough to moan about again when I ended the game a little later. As we walked off, Cole swore at me and had a go at my decision making.

      I could have sent Cole off for that. I could have red-carded him for using insulting language, or shown him his second yellow for dissent, but I let it go. José Mourinho made a snide remark in the tunnel. Again, I did nothing about it. I was focused on reaching the changing-room.

      Perhaps I should have done something about Cole or his manager, but I knew the punishments would be inconsequential. I knew too that referees cannot report every player and every manager who says something out of order – we’d get writer’s cramp.

      So, if you had asked me at that moment whether I had handled the game well, my honest assessment would have been that I had been a bit lenient afterwards towards Chelsea. But I would also have said that it had been probably the best game of the season so far and that, yes, I had helped facilitate it. I had done my job.

      Five minutes after I had reached the officials’ changing room, there was a knock on the door. It was John Terry and Gary Staker, Chelsea’s player liaison officer and administrative manager. Terry said, ‘I need to know why you sent me off.’ In theory, he was not meant to be in my room. Only managers were permitted to go to the referee’s room, and then only thirty minutes after the game. The idea is to give people a chance to calm down and to prevent the referee’s room being besieged. But I like to sort things out face-to-face and I had got on well enough with Terry for several years. So I said, ‘You had already been cautioned and then, in my view, you grabbed Ledley King and pulled him to the floor in an aggressive fashion. It wasn’t as if you just lent on him – you pulled him down.’

      He said, ‘Oh. It wasn’t a straight red then.’

      ‘No, John,’ I confirmed. ‘It was a second yellow card.’

      The fourth official, Peter Walton, who was also in the room, chipped in, ‘So it means you will only miss one game.’

      ‘Does it?’ said Terry.

      ‘Yes,’ said Walton. ‘It’ll be the Carling Cup tie against Aston Villa.’

      ‘Fine … that’s fine then,’ said Terry. He left, looking relieved.

      I was not sure what that was all about. His initial inquiry – ‘I need to know why you sent me off’ – was a bit odd. The referee’s assessor, Gary Willard, and the match delegate, former West Ham midfielder Geoff Pike, were happy as well. Willard gave me a strong hint that he wanted me to report Chelsea for the incident СКАЧАТЬ