Seeing Red (16 page)

And I was confident. I always knew I would not referee badly. That is not saying I would not make mistakes – that is not the same thing – but I would not give a poor performance in terms of being afraid to make big decisions or failing to keep control. I expected and accepted that I might make mistakes – human errors which I hoped would not affect the match – but I was not afraid that I would referee badly.

Over the years I learned not to say stupid things to players in the tunnel – not to be the old class clown from Thomas Alleyne's School – but I only learned that from making the
mistake of doing it. I once said to Roy Keane in the tunnel, ‘I've already got your name, Roy. I just need the time.' So during the game, when he committed a bad foul and I went over to him, he snarled, ‘Well, you've got your time for me now.' My stupid aside had given him reason to believe I already had it in for him, that my mind was made up before the start that he would be cautioned. I stopped saying daft things after that.

The referee goes out ahead of the players from the tunnel onto the pitch and, for me, that was a special, magical moment. In the Premiership, the stadiums were nearly all magnificent and often jammed completely full. The colours, the noise, the intensity of the occasion made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I know that is a well-worn expression, but that is precisely what happened. So, I repeat: when people ask me why I refereed my answer was, ‘Why wouldn't I?'

A major change once we became professional was the introduction of our fortnightly group get-togethers. We went to Staverton Park, a conference and training centre in Northamptonshire, about ten miles away from the M1 motorway. The centre had a hotel, a swimming pool, a gym and a golf course. It did not have a football pitch, however. At first we did most of our training on a public park, with fairly Spartan facilities. There were a few grass pitches, which we used to ruin, and an Astroturf area. It was like being back at Ridlins Wood Playing Fields in Stevenage. Later Staverton Park took over a cricket ground and put a couple of football pitches there.

There were twenty-four pro refs. Most of us reported in at Staverton every other week – and we had a hoot. We were fit, youngish and, for the first time in our lives, were being

Left
Susan, Deborah, Graham and Mary: the four Poll children in our garden in Stevenage in about 1968.

Right
My big moment on stage, playing Fat King Melon (pictured astride horse, inspecting troops) at Ashtree School in 1973.

Above
‘The comrades'. Alan Crompton and me, right, on stage at Thomas Alleyne School. We are still comrades all these years later.

Right
Mum and dad, Beryl and Jim, at a family wedding in 1992.

Right
My Football League debut as an assistant referee in 1986. The match was Leyton Orient against Peterborough United, the ref was Jeff Lovatt and the other ‘linesman' was Mike Bullivant. I was just 22.

Above
The Aubrey Cup Final (the Herts Senior County League's top cup competition) in 1984, with referee Alan Mitchell and the other assistant, Paul Taylor (who later became a Football League referee).

Right
Another cup final, six days later, in 1984 – and this time I was the referee. It was the Stevenage Sunday League Challenge Cup Final at Stevenage Borough's ground, and a big day for me – although I should have worn the same socks as my assistants.

Stages (and haircuts) of my career, captured in cuttings.
Left
The Stevenage Comet marks my promotion to become a Football League linesman in 1986.
Below
The local Reading paper records my arrival as a Premier League ref in 1993.
Bottom left
The Daily Telegraph reports my FA Cup Final appointment in 2000.

Right
The pennant commemorating the last FA Cup Final at the old Wembley.

Above
Ruel Fox of Norwich is having the blood wiped off his face, Francis Benali of Southampton is receiving my red card and Dave Beasant is restraining Mickey Adams. It was 1994, in my first Premier League season.

Left
The certificate made and presented to me by my dad. See page 105.