Why are we surprised an official has been pushed over the edge?
IAN LADYMAN: Why are we astonished an official has finally been pushed over the edge? Referees and linesman are verbal punch bags for players. They are being intimidated all over the country
- Constantine Hatzidakis’ clash with Andy Robertson is part of a wider mess
- Match officials have had enough of the lack of respect from players on the pitch
- The relationship between players and officials is skewed and needs to be reset
When looked at again in the cold light of the morning after, it is not just the first movement of Constantine Hatzidakis’s arm that takes the attention, but also the second.
The first one — the one that will live long on YouTube — takes the assistant referee’s right elbow up and into the region of Andrew Robertson’s jaw at Anfield on Sunday. It is this one that may irrevocably change the course of Hatzidakis’s career. After all, how will he ever be allowed to forget it?
But it’s the second movement that really tells us what he is thinking.
As he walks away from Robertson, he shrugs his arm much more subtly but also purposefully back in the Liverpool player’s direction and the message is clear: ‘Don’t put your hands on me. Get off me. That is not what I am here for.’
And here, many hours after what happened, is the nub of it really. Referees and their assistants have just had enough of it.
Constantine Hatzidakis’ elbow into Andy Robertson’s face may change the official’s career
The incident has highlighted how officials have had enough of the lack of respect from players
Officials regularly find themselves surrounded by players when the half-time whistle sounds
They have had enough of the lawlessness, the lack of respect and the overriding notion that the men and women in black on a weekend afternoon are not just there to apply the laws of the game but also to act as verbal punchbags for players who have long since abandoned any notion of there being lines that cannot be crossed.
Robertson didn’t do much on Sunday, not when the incident is viewed in isolation. He simply gave Hatzidakis a tug on the elbow.
The reaction was extreme and the moment it was over, the assistant referee will have known he was wrong.
The initial phase of punishment that arrived at midday on Monday — an immediate suspension from Premier League fixtures — will not have surprised him. Indeed, it is a decision probably taken as much for his own good as for the game’s.
However, it is wrong to view one simple hand on the elbow in isolation. Because nothing that happens to a match official during a routine Premier League fixture can be looked at this way.
Everything that happens does so against a background of persistent questioning, disrespect and, far too often, abuse. Nothing, in reality, happens in isolation.
The fact this incident took place after the whistle had been blown for half-time is in itself indicative of the way football’s culture has become so warped over the years.
In other sports — such as both codes of rugby — the shrill of the referee’s whistle is a signal for both sets of players to leave the field for a break and this is what happens. It is viewed as a suspension of play and of all the adrenaline and emotional investment that comes with it. Time for a breath.
Bruno Fernandes avoided a punishment last month despite pushing an assistant referee
Aleksandar Mitrovic grabbing Chris Kavanagh showed the environment officials are working in
Robertson was astonished that a match official had finally been pushed over the edge
But this is not what happens in football. No, in football the walk to the dressing rooms at half-time is seen by many as an excuse to continue the excessive and, more often than not, one-way stream of dialogue that has already been directed at the referee and their assistants for the previous 45 minutes.
So we see referees accompanied from the field by griping players, often from both teams and often in packs. Then, when they reach the touchline, the officials will often find managers and coaches waiting for them. And on it goes.
Nobody wants a sterile, emotionless game. Sunday’s match at Anfield was raw and intense. That was part of its beauty.
But the relationship between players and officials has been skewed for a long time and needs to be reset. This, for example, is not the first time in recent weeks that players have felt free to place their hands on a referee or assistant.
Bruno Fernandes pushed a linesman out of his way as Manchester United lost at Anfield last month and wasn’t sanctioned. Aleksandar Mitrovic grabbed hold of Chris Kavanagh at Old Trafford two weeks later and is now serving an eight-match ban.
Why do they do this? It’s because they think they can — and usually they are right. What Robertson did does not even sit in the same ball park as Mitrovic’s tangle with Kavanagh.
But, more widely, this is the environment in which modern-day match officials are required to work and we should probably not be surprised that one of them has finally decided — rather instinctively it must be said — that he has had enough of it.
If players are human and — on match day — shot through with adrenaline and emotional impulse, then we should not expect our officials to be completely immune. Referees all the way down the pyramid and into the amateur game know how it feels to be intimidated on a football field.
They know how it feels to be undermined and to sense that, whatever they do, they will turn out to be a lightning rod for the frustrations of 22 competitors and a good number of those standing on the touchline.
Referees continue to be driven away from our game at grassroots level and it is easy to understand why. Stop by your local park on a Sunday morning and have a look. It doesn’t exactly look like fun and anyone who denies the clear link between Premier League stadiums and the parks are just not looking properly.
It is into this multi-layered melting pot that Robertson and his assailant unwittingly stepped on Sunday. The Scot and Hatzidakis are two minor players in a significantly wider mess.
But again we return to the footage and this time to Robertson’s reaction. The Liverpool defender is incandescent. ‘He’s just f*****g elbowed me’ he rages, astonished that a match official has finally been pushed over the edge.
The further we place ourselves away from the emotion of what actually happened, though, the more an obvious question crowds in. How come this hasn’t happened before?
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