Whistling back at the churlish whistleblowers

By Alex Martin

Published:

IF YOU seek the riches and rewards of professional sport, then accountability must be accepted. That exists throughout every level of the game of football and not just among the pampered players.

Scottish referees have this week decided they no longer want to be held to account – nomatter how many horrendous howlers they commit. Former referee Kenny Clark threw his toys out of the pram. Now out of the game, the one-time whistler decided this was the right time to bleat about the criticism he and other officials have received.

The Whistle Blower section of the SFA website is no more because the infernal media used referees’ admissions of guilt to highlight the errors which blight the Scots game.

Boo hoo.

Just keep making the mistakes fellas, only now you don’t have to admit to them.

EURO 2008 has, by and large, passed me by. But the Holland versus Italy match during the week, one of the few games actually worthy of consideration, caught the eye.

Not because of a blunder this time but by dint of a brilliant piece of interpretation by the powers that be.

Swedish referee Peter Frojdfeldt allowed Ruud van Nistelrooy’s goal to stand in the 3-0 win for Holland because, according to the rules, clattered Italian defender Christian Panucci was playing the Real Madrid forward onside.

This despite the fact that Panucci had been knocked into the middle of next week by his own goalkeeper and was off the pitch.

Every rule has its interpretation and the rule was brought in to stop players deliberately stepping off the field of play to make an opponent offside.

This law is an ass.

SIR Allen Stanford’s decision to invest tens of millions of pounds into Twenty20 cricket should be applauded.

Yes, it is a business decision and anyone who thinks the American-born multi-millionaire is doing it solely for the love of the game is daft.

But I suspect there is an enthusiasm for cricket as much as a desire to make money behind his decision.

Fifty over a side one-day cricket has become stale and predictable, Twenty20 is an attractive appetiser for the real business of Test cricket.

My first day at a Test match was Manchester on August 13, 1981. Despite a rain delay of an hour, England crawled to a pitiful 175 for nine at the close, with Kent’s Chris Tavare stifling all enthusiasm by scoring a miserable 69 from 193 balls after Ian Botham had gone for a golden duck. It was desperate and the biggest cheer of the day came when Tavare was finally dismissed.

Fast-forward more than a quarter of a century and international teams are now scoring more than 350 runs in a day.

It’s fast, furious and thoroughly entertaining.

Blend the enduring appeal of Test cricket with the three-hour snack of Twenty20 cricket and you have a winner.