Football
Page 2
Sepp Blatter
Chapter 2
Imagine that …
Goal-line technology clears up football’s greatest debates … and leaves fans disillusioned by an unjust sport
As the world strode bravely into the 21st century, embracing the accompanying advancements and technology, football’s governing bodies looked on, unsure of how to adapt and displaying unmistakable symptoms of technophobia. Football clubs, on the other hand, have called almost unanimously for a technological upgrade. Gizmos and gadgets have managed to filter into individual clubs and even, quietly, some leagues which have then been held up as startling exceptions and ultra-progressive institutions. Since the turn of the century top-flight clubs have embraced the services of companies such as Prozone, a Leeds-based enterprise whose product enables coaches to digitally map the movements and performances of players for fitness monitoring and tactical use. Yet it has taken until 2013 for a major football association to take the first steps towards installing goal-line technology, devices designed to determine whether a goal has or has not been scored. In April 2013 the chairmen of the English Premier League voted in favour of incorporating technology in time for the following season, a bold move with the potential to make up the minds of football associations across the world.
Goals are of course the most important aspect of any match, with victory and defeat gauged by how many times the ball crosses the line, so it was surely worth investing money in an accurate method of determining this, even if only to prove it wouldn’t work. The technology in question has been available since 1999 so the problem is not one of invention. Devices such as the patented Hawk-Eye, the Premier League’s technology of choice, were eagerly embraced by other sports such as cricket, tennis and rugby upon their availability and the pivotal moments in each respective sport are now, on the whole, correctly judged. Football, meanwhile, plodded on without. Speaking in 2005 at a commercial event, FIFA chief Sepp Blatter gave his thoughts on the matter:
I would say we shall live with the errors, not only the errors of the players and the coaches but we shall also live with the errors of the referees. So, let the game be as it is.
His critics considered this to be a remarkably weak response and it failed to mute their discontent. Blatter’s stance eventually softened, but only after a number of high-profile ‘ghost goals’ and disallowed match-winners.
It is not just those at the top of the footballing pyramid who have been averse to modernisation; many football ‘purists’ fear it will sap the high tempo that attracts so many to the game. The buzzword is ‘momentum’. Those sports that have introduced technology are distinguishable by a common scene. Play stops as tens of thousands of fans turn their attention away from the pitch. The players and referee also turn away, fixing their gaze upon electronic scoreboards and awaiting confirmation. For the trickier decisions it can take minutes for a decision to be reached. All the while muscles are tightening and adrenaline is diminishing. The waiting game brought about by the giant scoreboards turns once fast-paced sporting battles into pantomime. IN! OUT! NOT OUT! TRY! NO TRY! The immediacy and raw emotion these events would usually hold is tempered by the agonising wait. Jubilation is replaced by relief; disappointment worsened by false hope. It is this sterility that the purists fear would harm the game, and the argument does have merit. The drama that accompanies indecision is part of the game. In some cases a poor decision may drive a set of supporters to despair but for the rest of us, the opposition and the neutrals, it provides a talking point, a source of debate.
According to sceptics, then, embracing this technology could easily reduce the fast-paced sport that is adored by so many to a stop-start quest for 100 per cent accuracy. One of the technology’s greatest detractors, UEFA chairman Michel Platini (pictured left), agrees. Platini said in 2012 of proposals to introduce the technology: ‘It invades every single area. We can’t just have goal-line technology. We also need sensors to see if someone has handballed it. We need cameras to see if it should be a goal or not.’ Despite his somewhat intolerant rebuffing of the proposal, there was a great deal of truth to his argument. With a culture of technology implanted into football, it is highly possible that finer tweaks to include offside checks, replays to assess fouls in-game and other mooted uses will be inevitable. Platini’s fears of opening the floodgates are by no means baseless, as the world of rugby has shown. Originally, the Television Match Official or ‘video referee’ was supposed to confirm to the on-pitch referee whether or not a player had scored a try. Gradually the TMO’s duties have increased, to the point that the English Premiership has even trialled a system where the referee can request that the TMO rewinds the tape to spot infringements earlier in play. The video referee was intended to be a silent introduction to the game, aiming to seamlessly root out injustice, but it now does far more.
The refusal to accept technology into football is viewed by many as an archaic unwillingness to adapt, but there is something very human about the hesitancy. Football has existed and excelled until now without the need for mechanical intervention. One of the sport’s greatest attractions is that it can be played anywhere. No other sport spans the globe with quite the same degree of universality as football, and that is largely due to the fact that it requires no specialist equipment. You can recreate the events of a World Cup final by substituting some rolled-up socks or a spherical fruit for a ball; swapping boots for bare feet and a goal frame for a brick wall. But there is no natural replacement for video technology. It would mark a new era in football, with the professional game materially set apart from the one taking place in parks and streets worldwide. In spite of all the vitriol that overflows when a goal of vital importance is ruled out incorrectly, there is something quite admirable about the stance taken by FIFA. With football undertaking its first serious and prolonged trial of technology, the fact that the role of referees is only now being supplemented shows a touching dedication to the game; it is hard to attack inaction born out of almost childlike idealism.
Whether or not goal-line technology should have been introduced sooner, things would not have panned out in quite the same way if it had been. There are countless episodes from footballing history that could have been transformed by its presence. The 1966 World Cup, for example, could well have ended up in West German hands. With the final match of the tournament deadlocked at 2–2 after 90 minutes, bitter rivals England and West Germany entered 30 minutes of extra time. With tension rising and the clock ticking away, full-back Alan Ball crossed the ball to Geoff Hurst. With his back to goal, Hurst controlled the ball and turned before striking at goal, losing his balance as he did so. The German goalkeeper Hans Tilkowski instinctively raised a hand, appearing to tip the ball up on to the crossbar. The ball then thundered down towards the goal line before bouncing away. Players from both sides raised their arms to appeal: the English claiming a goal, the Germans denying it. This was not an act of gamesmanship and they were not attempting to fool the linesman. It is quite conceivable that both sides thought they were correct as, nearly 50 years on, debate continues over whether or not the ball crossed the line. It was too close to call in real time and still inconclusive when the videos were replayed. After giving a long puzzled look, the Azerbaijani linesman Tofik Bahramov awarded a goal. It looked very much like guesswork, but a decision had to be made. If the goal had been disallowed then the pattern of play would undoubtedly have altered, with the teams’ emotions reversed. England, playing with freedom and jubilance, went on to score a fourth goal to clinch victory, but without the cushion of their third goal it could so easily have been Germany running out winners. As damaging as stopping a game to consult a video can be, allowing it to carry on with the momentum behind the wrong team is worse.
This is all hypothetical, of course. It would have been unfeasible for goal-line technology to have been used, such was the expensive and impractical nature of videography at the time. As much as the incident needed a definitive answer, it just would not have been
possible without putting the game on hold indefinitely.
High-profile and pivotal games today are still full of these knife-edge moments. Long, drawn-out seasons so often boil down to one game. Teams play within themselves or exceed expectations relative to their nearest challengers. Sometimes this means title rivals heading into the final week of the season needing to better each other’s results.
Sometimes it sees a cluster of sides frantically dropping in and out of relegation zones as goals fly in throughout the day. Other times, the all-important fixture is played midway through the season. In the case of the 2011/12 Serie A season in Italy, this is exactly what happened. When title challengers Juventus and AC Milan met on 25 February 2012 there was still plenty of football to be played. However, with Milan sitting atop the table and Juventus just a point behind with a game in hand, it was dubbed as a major battle in the seasonal war. Milan took the lead after fifteen minutes and continued to press. Twenty-five minutes in, they worked a short corner before Brazilian playmaker Robinho swung the ball into the box. Milan defender Philippe Mexes powered a header towards goal and, after Juventus goalkeeper Gianluigi Buffon had parried the effort, Ghanaian midfielder Sulley Muntari prodded the ball over the line. Or so he thought. As Muntari and co wheeled off in celebration, the referee waved Buffon and Juventus to play on. Replays showed the ball to have been a foot or so over the line before Buffon had scooped it back into play. It mattered not: as the game continued, Juventus eventually equalised to take a point home to Turin. It was the turning point of the season. Instead of extending their lead, both in the game and in the league, Milan were pegged back by their rivals. A similar event followed a month later when they faced Catania: Robinho saw a perfectly good winner ruled out, and his side once again drew a game they might have won. A sense of injustice stirred within Milanese stomachs for the rest of the season. Milan’s club president Adriano Galliani spoke about his anguish in an interview with Sky Sports Italia, saying: ‘I carry the photos of Muntari’s goal and Robinho’s goal on my phone, but I look more often at Muntari’s.’ The two games proved to be pivotal, as the extra four points they would have gained from the respective victories (not to mention the point Juventus would have lost) saw Milan finish four points short. ‘Ghost goals’ had altered the outcome of a 38-game season.
Juventus also complained of injustice in other matches, and as the old adage goes, ‘It all evens itself out over the course of the season’, but should it have to? In 2012, amid a title race similar to that taking place in Serie A, Manchester City coach Patrick Vieira spoke out about the opposition’s record with refereeing decisions. The team in question were Manchester United, their city and title rivals. With mind games played out in the media taking a prominent role in any English season, Vieira’s outburst was not altogether surprising, and his point hardly a new one. In 2004 in a game between Liverpool and Manchester United at Old Trafford, a remarkable streak for United came to an end. Just after the hour mark Liverpool midfielder Steven Gerrard burst into the opposition penalty area, only to be brought down. The referee, Mike Riley, pointed to the penalty spot. That in itself was an unusual sight. Fellow midfielder Danny Murphy placed the ball on the spot and coolly dispatched his shot beyond Man U keeper Tim Howard. No sooner had the ball hit the net than sports statisticians were compiling their latest offerings for the broadcasters. The penalty was only the fourth to be awarded to the away side at Old Trafford in over a decade and the first to be scored. As this statistic made its way around the footballing world, many took it as confirmation of what they had long believed.
However, although the Old Trafford penalty drought was one of the more alarming spells in football – especially since the lack of penalties was not the result of a lack of seemingly valid claims – it is a trend that seems to benefit the sides with larger followings. In his own attack on the Old Trafford side, Patrick Vieira had been keen to stress that they were just one of many sides to benefit from favourable decisions.
I think when you go to [Manchester] United, Madrid, Barcelona or Milan, when the referees referee these kind of games, it’s always difficult to go against these kind of teams. It’s something the teams who are used to winning get all the time. We need to win games so we have this advantage in the future.
The drama and heartbreak experienced by AC Milan, the perceived result of a couple of poor decisions over a 38-game season, could be dismissed as a disappointing one-off. When a refereeing anomaly affects the outcome of a decade’s worth of fixtures as it evidently did for Manchester United it suggests that, at the very least, referees need help. The difficulty is determining exactly what to do about it. Goal-line technology may combat one element of the trend. It will remove even the most hostile and intimidating atmospheres from the equation and allow the referee to receive video assistance to achieve a calm, measured and hopefully accurate decision. However, it is at this point that Michel Platini would be most likely to interject. While most games will have their refereeing talking points, not every game will see a goal ruled out. Fewer still will see a goal ruled out because of a dispute over whether or not it has crossed the line. As Platini suggested, goal-line technology will merely scratch the surface of the discrepancies in football refereeing. The clamour for technology will only increase once fans see this element of the game better marshalled.
The real issue is that football is just too big a sport to perfect. There are too many debatable issues. Many are judgement calls – subjective and objective onlookers alike will always be divided. Emotive terms like ‘deliberate handball’ and ‘tackling with intent’ make the game impossible to control completely. But that’s why so many love it. The injustices form part of a team’s identity. Fans will bond over times they were ‘cheated’, over how they never get the rub of the green. There is even a sense of tribal belonging brought on by uniting to roar out defamatory chants about the referee. The debate, the drama, it is all part of football. Prior to the Premier League’s decision to embrace technology, FIFA trialled a number of new schemes to improve refereeing decisions. Among these was the much-criticised addition of extra officials beside the goal, a measure made curious by the fact that these officials have rarely been seen to have involvement, noteworthy or otherwise. The truth is that technology would provide the best methods of clearing up those tough decisions, essentially enabling referees to rewind for a second look in the same way that pundits and commentators have for so many years. The referee’s ability is limited; but when the alternative is a game punctuated by referral to devices and videos, it may be wiser to accept those limitations and keep football raw. Sepp Blatter’s flippancy belies a truly salient point:
I would say we shall live with the errors, not only the errors of the players and the coaches but we shall also live with the errors of the referees. So, let the game be as it is.
Jerome Boateng
Chapter 3
Imagine that …
Footballers represent their place of birth … and Africa surpasses its former colonisers
18 June 2010, 8.30pm. Cape Town Stadium, South Africa. The national football team of Algeria took to the pitch to face England in their second group game of the 2010 World Cup. As the teams lined up side by side, awaiting their respective national anthems, Rafik Halliche stood out for a surprising reason. The young Algeria-born defender was notable for exactly that – being born in Algeria. The rest of the starting eleven hailed from the land of their former colonisers, France. In a squad of 23, a staggering seventeen were French-born. Indeed, of all the nations competing at the 2010 World Cup, only seven out of 32 squads did NOT include foreign-born players: Argentina, Brazil, England, Honduras, Slovakia, Spain and Uruguay.
Algeria fielding France’s ‘B team’ was not even the most bizarre tale of dual nationality at the tournament. This came five days later and 860 miles away, at Soccer City, Johannesburg. In a match between Ghana and Germany two brothers, Jerome and Kevin-Prince Boateng, lined up on opposing sides. Both were born in Germany bu
t, with a Ghanaian father, found themselves eligible to play for either nation. While both had represented Germany at youth level, Jerome chose to continue that affiliation while Kevin-Prince opted instead for Ghana. By the time kick-off came around the pair were no longer on speaking terms, their opposing allegiances leading to a bitter fall-out. It’s fair to say that, despite Germany winning that night, neither of the Boateng brothers regretted their choice. Jerome went on to win the third place play-off with Germany, while Kevin-Prince’s goal against the USA helped Ghana on their way to becoming only the third African team ever to reach a World Cup quarter-final. Nevertheless, their match-up highlighted the messy and questionable nature of international selection.
There are a number of factors that have led to this situation and to truly understand the reasoning, you have to first understand the rules. FIFA make regular revisions of and amendments to their rulebook but the most up-to-date criteria for international selection as at the end of 2012 outlines four key scenarios. The first two are the most logical – that the player OR his biological parents were born within the borders of the relevant Football Association. So far, so simple, but the next two criteria have led to controversy. If a player’s grandparents were born on the relevant territory OR if the player has lived on the territory for at least two years then they also become eligible to represent the Association. National identity is a highly subjective matter, so arguably this is all well and good. Indeed, it is highly understandable that after two years of residence a player might feel significantly attached to a nation. But many would say that this is not enough.