Marc's Story - A tale of referee abuse

Over the weekend, a lot of attention was rightly focussed on a post on the Total RL fans forum. It concerned referees and abuse, from the perspective of a referee’s spouse. If you have not seen it, the full post is here.

The post picked up a lot of attention on social media. Some were horrified, others more horrified at an alleged ‘snowflake’ culture where referees, apparently, cannot be subject to reasonable scrutiny. I always find the term ‘snowflake’ amusing, those who use it are usually the ones who complain about the most minuscule of matters. Anyway, I digress.

In amongst the debate, one particular tweet caught my eye:

The reason it caught my eye is because I think I can contribute to a couple of the potential answers, especially, ‘why is retaining them such an issue?’

I’m going to use this week’s blog to tell a semi-personal story, which may add to the wider debate. I have been a rugby league fan for much of my life. Since around the time that I became a teenager, I have attended matches with three of my friends.

We met at school and I am fortunate enough to class us all as good friends to this day. We all grew up in the same area. On a match day, I would walk to the cornershop, meet one of my friends and buy chocolate and drinks for the match. As we would walk to the stadium, we would meet our other two friends en-route.

We would go to our usual ‘spec’ and cheer on the team. And then in school on Monday morning, would find ourselves more often than not talking about the game at the weekend. As we grew up, we would get the coach to away games from time to time. We have followed our team all over the country, to numerous Magic Weekend’s in different locations, to London Broncos away games, to major finals. We would even take in some internationals.

Rugby League has played a major part in all our lives and has provided me with some wonderful memories. My group of friends would like to think we know a lot about the sport. But that never translated to on-field talent. We tried for the school team, played a bit for a local amateur club, but all soon realised we were more effective supporters than players.

But one of my friends, Marc, wanted to be involved in the sport in a greater way. Not blessed with playing talent, he joined the local refereeing society. He spoke in glowing terms about it. He told us about how welcoming the environment was. Noticeably, his confidence improved. He made friends at the society, people who he remains in touch with over a decade since walking through the door.

His fitness improved. Whilst my friends and I were not talented rugby players, we were half-decent footballers. I started to notice that Marc’s energy and stamina had increased hugely, as the rest of use were stood, hands on knees, blowing for air.

Marc met several professional referees through the society. He described them as friendly, professional, genuine people. They were just like us. Fans of the sport firstly, a referee secondarily. Not the megalomaniac, arrogant tyrants that some make them out to be. Marc did attempt to encourage us to join the refereeing society, but without any success.

Marc started by refereeing junior level matches, but quickly progressed. He soon started refereeing open age amateur level games, then under 18 and reserve matches at professional level. After years of dedication, Marc was both a referee and touch judge up to Championship level. I must say, I did find it strange watching the lad who we used to go to games with, instead being an in-goal touch judge at Super League games. I did, in jest, suggest that he was doing this so he didn’t have to pay for his season ticket!

I had always assumed that Marc very much enjoyed giving up his spare time from firstly his studies and later his full-time job to, as he put it, give back to the game. So it came as a surprise to me when a few years ago, he gave up officiating.

We were a group of boys, who grew up to be a group of men. So naturally, we didn’t talk about feelings, just like so many others. We didn’t talk about difficulties and masked it with laughter. It turned out that is what Marc was doing too. He told us that he was hanging up the whistle. This took me by surprise, so I asked why.

What he then told me, made me realise that being a referee wasn’t the wholly positive experience that Marc had previously made it out to be. He started refereeing when he was a child. That did not stop parents and coaches at junior matches from dishing out horrific levels of abuse. Marc said that he could let most of it slide off his back.

Although at one match, it went too far. He disallowed what would have been a late winner for a forward pass, much to the anger of the home team’s parents and coaching staff. As he left the field, he was spat at and one brute made serious threats of violence to him and his family. I shall spare you the exact wording used.

The person who made this threat was a 6ft+, giant of a man. He made this threat to a 16-year-old boy. To say and do these things to anyone is bad enough. But to a child is even worse. Marc was terrified. He nearly quit at this stage. He would have, but for the support offered by his family and local refereeing society.

Thankfully, he was never on the receiving end of an incident quite as intimidating again. As I said, he continued to progress up the ranks. He would work during in the week, and at the weekend travel from Newcastle to North London, Workington to West Wales and anywhere in between to either referee or touch judge.

The cumulative effect of years of abuse that he received eventually became too much. He said that he used to let it slide, but there reached a point that he thought what was the point? He questioned why he was giving up his weekends to travel the length of the country. Why was he was going into work tired on a Monday morning? He described a gradual decline in mood. The feeling of looking forward to a weekend had gone, replaced by a feeling of dread of the abuse he would invariably receive.

Marc concluded that there was no point in doing it anymore. Over a decade since walking through the doors of a local refereeing society, Marc quit.

But it wasn’t just being a referee that he quit. The decade of abuse had taken its toll. Marc described falling out of love with the sport. What once was central to his life, had become a point of angst. He now has other hobbies which occupy his spare time.

The group of four that went to matches together for years on end has now reduced to three. I am still in touch with Marc and he remains a close friend. But I do think it is a terrible shame that the actions of some have led to a loss for the whole sport.

Let’s return to the screenshotted tweet above, especially the last question posed. Why is retaining referees such an issue? I hope that this blog has shone a light on one example of why.

I’ll finish with a message to those who dish out abuse to match officials:

When you abuse a referee, you make retention harder. You reduce the talent pool of referees. You therefore drive down standards. You make it more likely that your team will suffer from poorer calls in the long run. And ultimately, you drive people away from the sport that you say you care about and want more people involved with.

And for what? Because your team had a try disallowed? Because they got pinged for offside? Is that really worth it? Is that consistent with the values of the sport? Is that consistent with societal values more widely? The point is actions have consequences.

There may come a day that we open our eyes and there aren’t enough referees to support a professional, semi-professional, amateur and junior game. And then what? You’re just staring into space, pointing a finger, yelling abuse into thin air. The field once filled with the buzz of excited junior players is now just an empty field. A silent area of greenery. And if you trace it back, you contributed to that. Is that what you want your contribution to the sport to be?

For clarity: 'Marc' is a pseudonym and his story is published with his permission.