Interviews, Crystal Balls And Poetry
Oh…and something called football too
The first question, at the press conference was more of a statement really, “There was a suggestion on social media that Merino has picked up an injury?”
A fleeting expression of resignation and agony passed over Arteta’s face as he offered a few sentences in reply: “It was a shoulder injury. He’ll be out for a few weeks. It was the first session. We were all very exited. But this is football”.
This isn’t just football, it’s life. I understand Arteta’s exasperation. We all do. Life will pull the rug sometimes and we all know it. So now we wait. Not Timber Time, but we wait.
For the rest of the press conference Arteta dodged any questions that required a crystal ball. And who could blame him. He said he didn’t know what would happen in the last hours of the transfer window. He said he didn’t know if we would beat Brighton. He said he didn’t know if Nwaneri would fill Viera’s spot and he didn’t know when Tomiyasu would be fit to return.
And Arteta was right to avoid the crystal ball, because the football gods were about to mischievously intervene once again. Out of nowhere, a few hours later, Raheem Sterling was an Arsenal Player. Yep. This is football.
The ambush nature of the signing was disconcerting in an Arsenalverse more used to the waiting game with drawn out bore-fest’s like the Merino signing than ambush signings like Sterling. In a state of shock the Arsenalverse consulted crystal balls across the land. He’ll be the new Havertz. His experience will make all the difference. His form is due to Chelsea’s pirate management. He’s a win-now signing. And on and on it goes.
But, having said all that, there is one aspect of today’s football that needs no crystal ball. Could anyone have predicted that an inconsistent and petty ref decision could ruin a match and be so influential on the season? Yes, anyone could have. Anyone. Anyone at all.
In sport the rules are the defining feature that allow for true competition to flourish because both teams are subject to the same rules. Yes, mistakes happen, fine, but as long as in general, during a single match the rules are applied equally and consistently, with a sense of the game and fairness in the referee’s mind, then fine. The problem with the PGMOL’s version of referring is that there is no consistency and no accountability.
I think of football as a weather-vane in some way, The attitudes within sport reflect the general atmosphere of an era. Remember the photograph of Paul Gascoigne accompanying Terry Butcher from the field, Butcher covered in blood pouring from an head gash? That image reflects an era that had its own specific historical expression of masculinity and a flippancy about mental health issues in general. There was a feeling in wider society that was reflected in football.
But here’s the thing. Football is embedded into society. There’s no Planet Football orbiting the Earth, subject to its own moral code. What we consider to be within the boundaries of the spirit of the game depends on the boundaries of the spirit of our times.
In today’s era, the PGMOL can easily hide behind an obscene un-accountability in the face of very top-down hierarchical attitude. The PGMOL cares less about football than it does about itself. Which is, tragically, a reflection of the unaccountable inequality and detached leadership of our current era. I know, this sounds like madness, but give it a moment before dismissing the idea. My annoyance with the referee on Saturday wasn’t only with his incompetence, but also with the common feeling these days of being powerless, of being ignored, and of being unworthy of deserving to see accountability.
Of course I know that football is pure entertainment, with the pitch as the stage, and instead of actors reading lines there’s actual real-life humans with real-life plots and subplots, twisting and turning and playing out in real time, right there in front of you. The players, like characters in a brilliant series, allow you to revel in their personalities, learn their limits, admire their strengths, calculate and predict their dramas, subject as they are to a million ever shifting circumstances. They surprise you and they disappoint you. They grow and develop and mature and fail. There’s natural born villains and warriors and heroes and fools all performing in astonishing white-knuckle thrillers and none of it, not one bit of it, is scripted! I can see why a referee would want to be part of that, tI can see why they want to be in the spotlight.
But referees should be more like directors than actors. They should set the scene and encourage the best performances they can, not place themselves in front of of the camera to steal the scenes.
Between the interviews there was a game of football. Football. Remember that? The reason we are all here? Never mind. We’ve got a referee to discuss!
Arteta’s expression in the post-match interview was stoney and fierce, like a furious eagle rocking side to side in fury. He spoke in a kind of poetic stupor, eyes blazing:
A very emotional afternoon.
AMAZED. AMAZED. AMAZED.
Inconsistency.
By the book.
Rule of law.
AMAZED. AMAZED. AMAZED.
Red Card.
Ten against Ten
At This Level?
AMAZED. AMAZED. AMAZED.
And that was that. The spectacle of football was inverted into the spectacle of the referee. If I peer into my crystal ball I see this happening again and again throughout the season. But from now on, unless the referee is performing such insanity that we can’t ignore it, I’m going to ignore them. From now on it’ll be the teams I write about here on Arsenal Wonderland. Apologies for this rant, but in all honesty, I couldn’t help myself.
Have a Ref-free international break fellow Wonderlanders. Hopefully none of you get upstaged by bit part actors and the rules are always applied fairly.