Half Season Review

It has been a few weeks since my last game as the weather once again takes its toll, its a good time for reflect on the season so far. The year ended with the good news of my promotion to level 11+1, hopefully I can consolidated this in the second half of the season and move up again. 
I have found the standard of games to be very good with the odd exception. Better, faster games bring their own challenges with speed of thought and foot being the main ones, but they also avoid some of the more ugly and sloppy elements of lower level games.
Inspired by Dave Garvey's post on Facebook here are some of the highlights so far.

• Most Impressive Side: H.A.C 1st (level 9 game so much better than I'm used to)
• Most Improved Side: Paulines 3rd 

• Best match (Standard of rugby): LSE v Sussex Uni (fantastic Sussex fly-half)
• Best match (Enjoyment): RUMS v QMW (just for having a prop admit the penalty was correct)

• Best Host: Surrey University Ladies (fantastic facilities, great beers and a genuine interest in what I thought)
• Worst Experience: Refereeing my old side when the ref didn't show up and thus having a frost night drinking with them when they narrowly lost.

I am hoping the weather doesn't disrupt to much of the early season as I want to keep up the momentum I've gained. Its looking like I will have another month or two of mid-week games as you can see the student games are providing some of the season's best moments.

Double Dose

With a game to referee and trip to Harlequins v Bath, Saturday was a feast of rugby action. Luckily my game was local so a mad dash to the Stoop was just do-able.
The afternoon started with a stomach-in-mouth moment as I realised that letting toddler-son play with my whistle after the last match meant it hadn’t found its way back in my kit bag. The advice of keeping a (rusty) spare prevented any embarrassment.
The combatants were two well organised Old Boys sides and happily were a side higher than I had previously encountered from those clubs.
The home side, Blue started strongly setting up a Red line-out on their own 5m line. Red 8 left the line early and I awarded a free-kick, an ensuing ruck saw Red 8 go to ground and tap penalty saw Blue score neatly in the corner. However, once Red got their act together the tight play from their forwards was too disciplined for Blue to cope with, there was great running and handling from the Red backs, some neat behind the back flips. In contrast, on the many occasions that Blue pushed forward, the ball carrier was isolated and was turned over or conceded a penalty.
Comedy moment of the match came a Blue 15 was chasing down a kick that ran into touch, realising that he was heading for the half way flag he attempted to vault the flag, which raised a sensitive target for the top of the flag to whip into. The ensuing line out was delayed as the forwards and referee composed themselves.
The game ended with a healthy 38-18 win to the visitors thanks to better organisation and individual skills. From my perspective, no major flare-ups, though it seems I did miss an obstruction in the lead up to a try. I was well positioned but wasn’t looking at that aspect, I suspect they were right to question it; at least it didn’t affect the result. I came off feeling the afternoon had gone well and the feed back from the teams seems good too. Sadly no beers with the captains afterwards as I needed to run off to the Harlequins match.

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Do us a favour?

Here in London, and I assume most other places, each referee gives out cards to the captains of the teams we officiate. The idea is that we are then scored on our performance and if there is a problem, or we are doing well, we can be independently assessed by the Society. Our grading are then changed up or down. The cards take 2 minutes to fill in and I even provide a stamp.
I try to get feed back from captains in the bar post-match but the card gives them a voice for what they aren’t prepared to say to my face. I hope they will be honest with both the card and over a beer.
There are a couple of problems, the first is the percentage that get posted back; this season only one match has seen both cards returned. I give up my afternoon to do something I enjoy, all it costs the team is my petrol money and beer or two and they get an afternoon of rugby. How much effort is it to fill in the form and post it back or hand it to me in the bar? Less time that it take the barman to pour the first round.
My second gripe is teams that have been on my wrong side all afternoon marking me down out of spite. They weren’t honest with themselves on the field, they can’t be honest with me on the cards. Having been around the circuit a couple of years, it is clear that one club in particular seems to consistently score me lower than my average. They are also a side that are ‘challenging’ to manage on the field. It’s a shame because the facilities and organisation are first rate, but clearly the ‘esprit de sport’ is flat, something you would hope wasn’t a function of the leading public school that feeds the club. LondonRef Jnr won’t be learning the game there despite the convenient location.

A Little Local Difficulty

After a couple of weeks of trying to engineer a game close to home, I get assigned a match in the next village. Surprisingly it was an early kick-off but the visitors had reckoned without the SW Trains shutting down the mainline for the weekend. It was back to a full-on Level 11 merit league test which was to test my fitness and patience. This was game with considerable talent and commitment but a huge penalty count and once again, two teams that frustrated with constant chat.
It was cold and blustery and though dry, it threatened rain. The game was barely 30 seconds old before the visitors (green) lost a centre to a sprained knee. The home side is one of the few at this level that provides a physio which is comforting to know that side of things is covered safely. Despite the pain, he somehow recovered to make an appearance in the second half as a replacement. Except that wasn’t allowed in a league game, so his 38 second cameo was all we saw of him. The restart scrum provided the first of many indiscretions as the home (red) hooker goes in crooked on the opposition hooker. This was to be a start of a torrent of offences at the scrum, I think I may have almost a full house; boring (both tight heads), foot up (twice), feed not straight (both scrum halfs), not binding, driving up. It all became a dull progression of whistles, resets and whinging about that which I needed to look out for- Did Red wheel? Was that last feed straight – sorry I was watching the binding that time, please play the game!
Both sides spent the first half questioning and trying to referee the game for me. My patience snapped as Green attacked on the Red 22, they knocked on and as Red collected and started to spin it wide, the Red stand-off scream “Knock-on”, yes I saw it, I was planning advantage, but it’s going to be a penalty against Red for dissent. Despite this the comment continued though the stand-off remained quiet. By the start of the second half both sides had quietened down but not before a similar penalty against Green.(Tip: if you are the only South African/Kiwi/Aussie on the team, it makes it very easy for the referee to figure you if you speak out of turn)
As the penalty count crept up, I found myself letting some of the 50-50 calls ride to allow the game to develop some flow, but this generates its own problems as players perceive that poor play goes unpunished. However, the game remained spikey and competitive to the end with Green ending up as deserving winner but the 20-7 score didn’t reflect Red’s contribution to the game.
Things to take out of it are still more scope for tightening up chat – this time there should have been a card and the same goes for scrumaging- the message just wasn’t getting through.

Sunshine and Back-Chat

A bright autumnal day saw me drive a short distance to New Malden, and then drive back as I realised I’d left my ref watch behind at home. The home side, Old Emanuel looked keen and ready to go, but Old Paulines where still shuttling their team to the ground.
The early exchanges were evenly matched and OPs sensibly took a penalty when it was offered them. Soon after a scrum gave the visitors an excellent attacking platform, the subsequent squeeze saw the OE tight head prop move out and in on the hooker, I gave a penalty which the OPs took quickly and were soon under the posts as the home side failed to react. The Old Emanuel response was immediate, a lovely weighted kick-off was collected on the 10m line by No7 who slipped one tackle and with two nice side steps was across the line. The fastest try I’ve seen.
It was becoming clear that neither side was keen on keeping quiet and persisted in questioning decisions and trying to referee the game. Both sides were marched back in the first half and OE conceded a full penalty. I certainly, upped my game from last season but it did not fully keep a lid on it.
Another penalty saw OP take a 13-7 lead into the second half, a fair reflection on the advantage they held. OE managed the first score of the second period, fired with a renewed enthusiasm but being on the back foot saw OP up their level of back-chat; even in the middle of mauls they still found time and effort to talk. They may well feel aggrieved if someone is trying to pull down the maul illegally, but if the maul does not come down and continues to move forward, I am not going to stop the game- except to possibly penalise them for dissent. Following the second OE try of the half, a vocal description of my refereeing efforts from the try line, meant that the game restarted with a penalty.
The final OE try came soon after as pile of bodies on the touch line saw a hand dart out to ground the ball. I was in the process of blowing up for a scrum and extended my arm instead. A frantic few minutes saw OE look to extend their lead but in the dying seconds OPs took a fine long range try to steal the honours, the two penalties being the difference between the sided.
In the end it was a scrappy game from two sides capable of playing good rugby, but with a need to keep their mouths shut and not bleat like spoilt little children for the whole game.