Authors: Graham Poll
Neil Shipperley scored for Palace and then, with about ten minutes to go, Palace defender Mikele Leigertwood put in a tired challenge on Michael Carrick inside the penalty area. I was only five yards away, and my first instinct was that it was a foul but, to my surprise, nobody appealed. Under those circumstances a referee will start to doubt his initial, gut reaction. I am not saying penalties are only given when players appeal. If someone handles the ball on the goal-line or commits a blatant foul, then there is no waiting period â it's a penalty and the referee gives it. But, throughout a game there are always marginal, less clear-cut incidents and, on those occasions, a referee will always hesitate momentarily. That is when the genuine, instant reaction of players â or their lack of reaction â can provide a guide.
The other point worth making here is that, as fans and players know, some challenges which are always seen as fouls outside the penalty area are not always punished when they occur inside the penalty area. UEFA talk about referees having a good feel for the game, a good gut reaction. And sometimes, the feeling in your gut is that you should not give a penalty. Referees reading this will understand what I mean, some fans won't. Some people will probably think it is an outrageous statement, but it is the truth. It doesn't accord with the Laws of the Game, but it is right in terms of the spirit of the game.
At the Millennium Stadium that afternoon I paused imperceptibly to wait for West Ham players to turn and shout âPenalty!' None did. The ball broke away and I let play continue. My assumption was that I had misjudged the challenge and that it had been legitimate. At the final whistle not a single West Ham player, nor any member of the coaching staff, made any comment about the incident.
The fourth official, Neale Barry, came onto the field with some water at the end and I asked him about the penalty incident. He had seen it on a television monitor in the technical area and felt that it was a foul and should have been a spot-kick, but he also said that neither Alan Pardew nor any of his staff had complained. The West Ham supporters in the stadium did not chant âYou don't know what you're doing' at me. Rarely can an incident like that have passed by without a dissenting voice raised. I think that was because it was a close call and it was difficult to tell whether Leigertwood had fouled Carrick or not.
However, there are two matches these days: the actual contest on the field and the match as seen on television. All a referee can do is take charge of the actual match â the one
played on grass â and make honest, brave decisions in real time, based on what he sees with one set of eyes. You get one view at one speed and one chance to get it right or wrong â the same as the players do.
But there are twenty-four television cameras at Premiership games, and TV coverage includes instant replays from different angles, with âsuper slo-mo'. And when âexperts' in the commentary box, and fans at home, have seen something enough times from enough viewpoints, whatever has happened looks obvious to them. If the ref has got it wrong, then they think he is incompetent.
Although the mistakes made by footballers â all the miss-kicks, the poor passes, the poor positioning, the slowness to get a block in, the miscued headers, the wrong decisions and so on â are sometimes highlighted on TV, the players are seldom subjected to the same level of criticism. People shrug at the mistakes that players make. People get angry about mistakes by referees.
After the Worthington Cup Final, West Ham fans became very angry with me. The after-match analysis on TV showed the âpenalty' incident scores of times and convinced West Ham supporters that they had been robbed. Back at our hotel, I received some abrasive comments from some of them, but I had been hardened to this type of situation over a twenty-four-year career â although family and friends were often upset by the more aggressive remarks.
After dinner, we went into the bar for what we hoped would be a sociable finish to the day but a group of West Ham supporters started to make noisy comments. They had been in the stadium and had not thought it was a penalty at the time, but now TV had told them it was. So they kept up the deliberately provocative, X-rated banter
for fifteen minutes, despite the fact that Julia, my wife, was with me.
I decided to speak to them, reasoning that if I gave them my honest account, they might ease up. I told them that yes, with the benefit of slow motion replays from different angles, it probably was a penalty. But there had been no appeals and so I had assumed that I had misjudged the challenge and that it was legal.
As it had in the past in different hotels after different games, the open approach worked. The West Ham lads said they appreciated the time and trouble I had taken to explain things. They thanked me. They said West Ham had not played well and did not deserve to win. I returned to continue my nightcap with Julia.
We skipped breakfast the following morning but as we were preparing to leave a West Ham supporter in the lobby held up a newspaper with a photograph of the tackle â which proved nothing. The enormous headline read, â£25 million error'. A Palace supporter asked me to sign his autograph book, which I did. The West Ham supporter then thrust the paper at me and, in front of Julia, asked, âDo you want to sign that, you f***ing w***er?'
Unlike the reasonable West Ham supporters from the night before, this one did not look as if he was prepared to listen to an explanation â nor were his six pals who came over. One said, âYou're coming with us in a minibus to east London.'
Laughing, I said, âI've got my car, thanks.'
One said, âIt wasn't a choice.'
But Julia and I did go home in our own car, and I reflected how unfair and irresponsible that â£25 million error' headline had been. I'd made a difficult, honest judgement in the
heat of the moment, based on the evidence in front of me. If I had given the penalty, there was no guarantee that West Ham would have scored. If they had scored, there was no certainty that they would have won.
Who'd be a referee? Well, I would. At age forty I had completed the full set of big domestic games. I had earned them by getting consistently high marks, by being number one. Okay, I was not going to Euro 2004, but there was nothing I could do about that. I had got my head down, driven myself on and had pulled myself up from the disappointment of the World Cup. I had made my best better and proved something important to myself. Who'd be a referee? Me, definitely.
Despite the fact that season 2003/04 ended with me thoroughly satisfied with my form, I do have to tell you how depressing it was to spend the following summer at home instead of in Portugal at Euro 2004.
Throughout my career, I set myself target after target, like a sales person. I was always thinking of the next milestone to reach and pass. And so, naturally, the big international tournaments were the major targets. I had come home early from Euro 2000 and from the 2002 World Cup, but my reputation had survived those setbacks and I had every reason to believe I could aim for Euro 2004 in Portugal.
The first seeds of doubt were sown in January 2003. That was when Graham Barber and I had coffee with Ken Ridden of the FA at a UEFA referees' course. We were pumping him about our chances of big European matches and then Barbs asked, âWhat about Euro 2004?'
He was retiring from the international list at the end of 2003 so it was a question asked on my behalf. Ken replied, âObviously it will either be Graham or Mike.' He meant
Mike Riley. It was not the answer I expected. In fact, it was a bombshell. I was way ahead of Riley in marks and tournament experience.
Barbs said I was being paranoid; that Ken Ridden was just being cagey. Other people scoffed at the idea that I might not go to Portugal as well. In October I rang Yvan Cornu, UEFA's referees' manager, on another matter and, in the course of our conversation said, âI know my European marks have been good â¦' Cornu interrupted. He said, âNo, they've been exceptional.'
That was reassuring and at the end of our chat I felt more upbeat. But the doubts gnawed away and I learned that Ken Ridden was upset about me. I was very active in the Select Group in England, and was trying to assist Philip Don as the manager of the Group. Someone misinformed Ken that I was manoeuvring to get Philip a top job â Ken's job on UEFA's referees' committee. This was not true. So I telephoned Ken. He said, âGraham, I do have to tell you at this point there are some committee members backing Riley and not you.'
I asked, âSo how does it look?'
He said, âAs ever, Graham, the criteria will be marks. It's as simple as that. Marks will determine whether you go or not.'
Mike Riley had received a low mark in a Champions League qualifying tie. Given my sequence of marks, that meant it was impossible for him to have a higher average than me. So I said to Ken Ridden, âI don't think I've got anything to worry about then.'
I was wrong. In December, the UEFA referees committee discussed the appointments for Portugal. My mobile was off and when I turned it on there was a message telling me to ring UEFA. My first thought was that I had been given another European club fixture. I was not expecting any call
about Euro 2004. That announcement would be made through the normal, formal channels. But when I telephoned, I was told Yvan Cornu wanted to speak to me. At that moment, I knew.
When Yvan came on the phone, I said, âIt's not good news, is it.' It was a statement, not a question.
He replied, âNo, I'm afraid it isn't. Unfortunately the decision has gone against you and you've not been selected for Euro 2004.' Mike Riley had been chosen ahead of me. Yvan said, âThe criteria used to select the match officials for Portugal were marks, age and previous tournament experience.'
My marks were ahead of Mike Riley's. He was a year younger than me, which was not significant because, in international terms, we would both retire between the same tournaments. I said to Cornu, âSo it must be based on previous tournaments.'
He replied, âThat's the only conclusion I can come to.'
He told me I should not be too disheartened, which was easier said than done. But he said to keep going because there was always the 2006 World Cup in Germany. He added that, given how well I was refereeing, I would have every chance of being selected for Germany.
Somehow I packed my football bag and left for the following day's match: Newcastle against Liverpool, live on Sky. I missed another Steven Gerrard two-footed tackle but, frankly, I don't know how I managed to do the game at all.
I learned later that, at the UEFA meeting, Ken Ridden had proposed Mike Riley instead of Graham Poll. When challenged, he had reminded the others that they had an agreement not to interfere with another country's nominations.
I would have understood if Ken had sat me down and said, âI know it was not necessarily your fault, but Euro 2000 and
the World Cup 2002 did not work out for you and I'm not going to put you forward as England's representative for Euro 2004' â but we did not have that conversation. The only time we talked about my not being selected for Euro 2004 was a long time after the tournament finished. In November 2004, Ken was the assessor when I refereed Everton against Fulham. He asked me to talk to a delegation of Norwegian referees after the game and I travelled back with him to his hotel. He said, âEveryone is remarkably impressed by the way you have dealt with the situation [of missing Euro 2004]. You have come back stronger and you are refereeing extremely well.'
I let my frustration overflow. I said, âYou always said the selection for Portugal would be on marks. I know this was not the case and so do you. I can move on and I can work with you but I will never, ever forgive you for hurting me and my family.'
He said, âI know. I was wrong.'
I never did and never could hold a grudge against Mike Riley. He did nothing to influence Ken Ridden or push himself for Euro 2004 at my expense. When he was chosen he was stunned and embarrassed but naturally pleased.
Disappointingly, but not surprisingly, some referees at Staverton could not hide their glee when I was not selected. Graham Barber, Paul Durkin, Steve Dunn, Alan Wiley, Rob Styles, Andy D'Urso, Mike Dean, and Steve Bennett were the most supportive and Riley showed genuine empathy, which I appreciated immensely. Others enjoyed the fact that I had been kicked in the teeth.
It was hard to watch Euro 2004 without an agenda. I thought I would simply be an England fan, cheering David Beckham and the boys from my armchair, but I took as much
interest in the refereeing as the progress of my country and I found myself with too many negative thoughts, almost wanting referees to make mistakes.
I did not like discovering that trait in me, especially after others at Staverton had wallowed in my misfortune, so I spoke on the telephone to Craig Mahoney, the Select Group's sports psychologist. I asked if I should continue to watch the Euro 2004 matches.
He said, âOf course you should. You should keep in touch with top-level European refereeing and international football. You are going to be refereeing games like these so it is important you watch them. But the emotion you should have and continue to feel throughout the tournament is anger. You should be angry that you aren't there. Not bitter but angry.
âGoing into next season, you should harness that anger to referee really strongly. You will need a motivation so use this anger to raise your own game. You are already at the top, but great sportsmen find something to make them kick on and become even better. Use your anger to make yourself better.'
He told me to go and see him. So I did. At our meeting, I said that, despite his words, I had no chance of going to the 2006 World Cup. He said, âWell which English referees do have a chance?'
I replied, âMike Riley, obviously. He is in pole position, or Poll's position. And Steve Bennett. He is going well.'
He responded, âWell, what if Riley has an injury and Benno loses form? Who else from England is in the top group of European referees?'
I replied, âI am.'
Craig drove the point home, saying, âSo you must have a chance. How big a chance would you say you and the others have got?'
I said that I thought Riley was 80 per cent, Benno maybe 15 per cent and me 5 per cent.
He said, âRight. When you arrived you said you had no chance. Now your own estimate is a 5 per cent chance. How can you make that 10 per cent?'
Craig got me to talk about my routine before matches and I mentioned, in passing, that I usually had a couple of glasses of wine on the night before a European match.
He said, âRight. Cut out the wine. Show people you have made a change; are making a special effort. Make the people in UEFA think, “Look at Pollie â he is so determined.” Make them think that they cannot ignore you.'
I had my target. I would raise my game. I would aim for Germany 2006.
So I kept viewing Euro 2004 on TV and watched Urs Meier rule out what England thought was a winning goal in the quarter-final against Portugal. Sol Campbell thought he had scored but my friend Urs ruled that John Terry had fouled Portugal goalkeeper Ricardo. I can understand why Meier made the decision. It was a subjective call, but it was an honest call. It was an unpopular one in England but referees should not shirk decisions because they are unpopular. And without Terry's suspect challenge, Meier would not have had a decision to make.
England lost on penalties. David Beckham slipped as he took his kick and scooped the ball up over the crossbar. But, of course, the English media decided the referee was the man responsible for England's exit. In Switzerland, Urs Meier's fourteen-year-old son was approached by an English tabloid newspaper who asked whether his father ever hit him or mistreated him in any way. Reporters and some supporters camped outside the Meier home and so Urs stayed away. He
only had six months to go as an international referee and I know that it took tremendous strength of character for him to see out his remaining time and not allow the mob to beat him.
A year later Meier was a guest of the Football Association when Arsenal beat Manchester United in a penalty shoot-out to win the FA Cup. When his face was shown on the big screens, boos rang out at the Millennium stadium. Sometimes it is difficult to be proud to be English.