Seeing Red (25 page)

The Aldershot episode signalled an end for me: the end of my being able to relax at Staverton. After Aldershot, I was always on my guard in front of the other referees. The old days of a group of blokes sharing a common purpose and common experiences were gone. The ‘good old days' had started to disappear when the Red Wine Club disbanded because Paul Durkin, Steve Dunn and Graham Barber retired. The days of being relaxed and trusting were gone for ever once that email was sent.

The board of Professional Group Match Officials Limited felt they needed to show the public that referees could not get drunk without being disciplined, so they announced that I was suspended for two games and even named the games. I believed that was wrong, because referees are taken off
matches all the time without the public knowing. This time, they made a point of announcing publicly that I was being punished and that handed a victory to the emailer.

To soften the blow, I was allowed to choose the dates of my suspension. I selected weeks which enabled us to take another family holiday – the one in Sardinia had been wrecked by all the phone calls about Aldershot – and so I served my suspension in Jamaica. We stayed with Peter Prendergast, my mate the FIFA referee. As I was not banned by the Football Association, I refereed a Jamaican Premier League match. I took charge of a fixture between Tivoli Gardens and Rivoli, at a stadium known locally as The Hole, and had a wonderful time. The
Jamaican Gleaner
newspaper said the game was ‘superbly controlled by British referee Graham Poll'.

Although the Aldershot episode was a vicious act of betrayal, I stopped feeling bitter about the sad emailer because the jealousy which ate away at him so much led to my having a lot of fun in the Caribbean.

There was a postscript to this episode when I started the 2005/06 season by refereeing Everton against Manchester United. In the tunnel, Roy Keane gave me what I think you would call ‘an old-fashioned look' and said, ‘If you can't take it, don't drink it.'

I said, ‘Well, if anyone should know Roy, you should.'

Then he said, ‘It said in the paper that you jumped on a car but didn't damage it. It must have been a f***ing Hummer, because you would have squashed anything else.'

Wayne Rooney asked, ‘What happened, Pollie?'

I said, ‘I got pissed.'

He just chuckled but seemed disappointed that there was not some more outrageous story. He said, ‘Was that all?' Yep, that was all.

Then Phil Neville said, ‘They only have a go at good players and it is the same with referees.'

So, although I do regret getting drunk at Aldershot, it did not damage my standing with footballers and the 2005/06 domestic season started well for me and continued to go well. That entire season was really always about the World Cup, however. Every match, every week, was a step closer to Germany. Every appointment I was given was an opportunity to impress – or to let myself down.

In the year 2000, when I learned that I was going to that year's European Championships, Graham Barber said to me, ‘Pollie, there is now only one person who can stop you achieving what you want to in football. You have reached a level, and gained a level of recognition, which means that only one person can stop you now. That person is you.'

Now that we all know what happened in Germany, that sounds like an ominous warning, but that was not how Barbs meant it in 2000. He meant that my future was in my own hands. It was up to me to grasp every opportunity. So, throughout the 2005/06 season I was striving to seize the chance of going to the world's biggest football event.

Early in the previous season, FIFA had put me on their short list of forty-four and asked me to nominate three assistants, from whom two would go with me to the World Cup if I was selected. For the first time, teams of officials from the same country would officiate at World Cup matches. I chose Mike Tingey, Glenn Turner and Phil Sharp.

To prepare us for the World Cup, I had two of those three with me as assistants for nearly every domestic appointment but the most striking difference that season was the number of international games I was given. In a normal season, I would do eight or nine. In 2005/06 I did seventeen.

That was not a coincidence, of course. FIFA were appraising my performances and an early indication that they thought well of me came when Pierluigi Collina retired a year early. He had signed a deal to advertise Opel cars and the Italian FA thought that was a problem because Opel sponsored AC Milan. So Pierluigi stopped refereeing and I was given one of his fixtures: a World Cup qualifier between Spain and Serbia. Me! Taking over from Pierluigi!

The ultimate accolade for me, however, was to be given Bahrain against Uzbekistan. That might look like a surprising fixture of which to be so proud, but the circumstances were unique. The two teams were drawn together in the two-legged Asian Zone World Cup qualifying play-off. The first leg was played in Tashkent and Uzbekistan were leading 1–0 when they were awarded a penalty. It was converted by Server Djeparov, but the Japanese referee, Toshimitsu Yoshida, disallowed the goal because an Uzbek player had encroached into the area. The ref should have ordered the kick to be retaken. Instead, he gave Bahrain an indirect free-kick.

After the match, Uzbekistan lodged a complaint and eventually FIFA's World Cup organizing committee decided that the first leg would be replayed in its entirety. A Swiss referee was named for the first leg and there was symbolism in the appointment, because FIFA are based in Switzerland and the Swiss are famous for their neutrality.

Then FIFA asked me to take charge of the second leg – a match that they were desperate should not go wrong in any way. Again, I think there was symbolism involved. Just as Switzerland is the home of FIFA, so England is seen around the world as the home of football and English referees are considered incorruptible and beyond reproach. Well, they are seen that way outside the UK.

On the morning of my match, FIFA telephoned me five times to go through details. They were desperate to get everything absolutely right. I felt that to be selected for a World Cup qualifying play-off, outside Europe, and one which was so vitally important to FIFA, was a huge vote of confidence in G Poll (England).

The international matches kept coming and the season continued to surge towards a crescendo. In November I was given another World Cup qualification play-off match, between the Czech Republic and Norway. It went fantastically well and then I was told I was going to the World Club Championships in Japan at the turn of the year.

But before I went to Japan, there was a big disappointment. I refereed Manchester United against Chelsea on 6 November and when we got back to the hotel afterwards Mike Tingey said he had a fitness problem. Now, we all knew that the FIFA fitness test was going to be extremely rigorous. We also knew that if any member of a national ‘team' of officials failed the fitness test, the entire team would be barred from the World Cup. In other words, if an assistant failed, then the ref would also be thrown out.

Therefore, with the help of Matt Weston, the Premier League's sports scientist, I set up a mock fitness test in Nottingham and made it as demanding as the FIFA trial. But in Manchester after that match at Old Trafford, Mike said to me that he had a virus which was sapping his strength and that he doubted he would be able to pass my test.

He was right. He couldn't do it. So I telephoned FIFA and told them that Mike would not be going to Japan. The selection of my team for Japan, for the rest of the season and for the World Cup if we went, had been done for me: the three-man ‘A team' was Poll, Turner and Sharp.

It was not lost on us that the World Club Championships were a mini World Cup, a dress rehearsal for the real thing. There was a week's intensive training and then we took charge of the opening match between Al Ittihad of Saudi Arabia and Al Ahly from Egypt. That was a fixture that might have been a bit feisty, but it passed without any trouble, from a refereeing point of view – another successful stride towards the World Cup. I was also fourth official at Yokohama for the third–fourth final: it was Al Ittihad again, against Deportivo Saprissa of Costa Rica.

Once we were back home in England, we had a busy run of domestic games over the Christmas period and then I was invited to Saudi to take charge of a Prince's Cup semi-final – again, a unique experience for me and an indication, I felt, that I was gaining real recognition far outside Europe.

Next up, on what was beginning to feel like a world tour, was Juventus versus Werder Bremen in the European Champions League knockout stage. That was followed, nine days later, by a UEFA Cup match between Schalke 04, from Germany, and the Italians of Palermo. Mario van der Ende – the Dutchman who was an important man on FIFA's referees' committee – came to watch that match, which made me paranoid of course. The match was horrible. It was bitty and nasty and I was not as strong as I could have been but I sent someone off for a handball on the line which nobody else spotted – and TV showed I was right. It was another big stride towards Germany. The crescendo was continuing.

In fact, by then, I was as certain as anyone ever can be that I would be selected for the World Cup. The announcement was due on 31 March … and on 29 March, my back went after 25 minutes of a match at Old Trafford.

It was a Wednesday night, Manchester United against West Ham. The pain was in my hamstring, but I suspected, correctly, that it was referred pain and that my back was in a bad way again. I took myself off and the fourth official went on. I was in the treatment room and Sir Alex Ferguson and Ryan Giggs popped in at halftime to give me some stick – and also to wish me well because they knew I was on the verge of World Cup selection.

I left the ground soon after half-time, was driven back to the hotel and lay flat out on my bed for the night. Of course it was my problematic sacroiliac joints playing up once more. Thankfully, I had learned since those injections in the summer that the joints could be put right by manipulation and massage. And so, although I was a bit sore, I was fit enough two days later to sit in my study waiting for the news from FIFA to appear on the internet.

Imagine what that was like, sitting there waiting for confirmation that twenty-six years of work would culminate in being named among the world's top officials for the world's biggest football tournament. I called up the FIFA site and kept hitting the refresh button. Nothing. I hit refresh, again and again – no sign of the announcement. After an impatient few minutes, I decided to distract myself by checking my emails – and there was one from FIFA. It said I had been selected for the 2006 World Cup in Germany.

How did that feel? Pretty good. Very few referees go to one World Cup, let alone two. The last Englishman to go to two before me was George Courtney, who had been my idol and had become my friend. He had introduced himself to me at my first Football League get-together, when I was a raw young linesman. Now I was going to emulate him. I had
been sent home after one game in 2002, and yet I was going to 2006. How did it feel? Yep, pretty good.

I still had to finish the season, to drive myself on through important Premiership fixtures. And there was that Football League match between Sheffield United and Leeds in which I sent Neil Warnock off for shouting, ‘Next time I hope he breaks his f***ing leg.' But not even the charmless Neil could undermine my feeling of achievement and fulfilment. I was going to my second World Cup.

Before Germany, however, I had one more extraordinary stop on my world tour. I was asked to take charge of the Emir Cup Final in Doha, the capital of Qatar – another very different experience in a very different culture. Before the kick-off, we all lined up as normal but were kept standing about. The giant screen suddenly showed a picture of a road, and then a limousine appeared on the road and we all watched as the limo drove to the stadium and the Emir emerged and made his way to a seat like a throne in the ground.

The match went to a penalty shootout, just like another game on that day – the 2006 FA Cup Final between Liverpool and West Ham. Apparently that was a terrific match, but I have never seen it. The other big event I missed because I went to Qatar was Rob Styles's stag night, but he understood – even though I was supposed to be organizing it.

I am very fortunate because my real friends always understood the commitment I had to make to refereeing, and so did my family. During that 2005/06 season, Julia and the children were my haven, as ever, and one of the downsides of going to big tournaments was the length of time I had to be away from my home in Tring. The 2006 World Cup in Germany was near enough for us to think it might be possible for the family
to fly out and see me in some of my matches, which was a priceless bonus. But the long time away was still an issue for me because I knew it upset the children. So, before leaving for Germany I made a decision and told them. I said, ‘This will be my last tournament. I won't go to Euro 2008. This will be my last long time away.'

It seemed to me then that my whole career had been leading to the 2006 World Cup. Thanks to the remarkable series of international matches in 2005/06, I knew that my reputation within FIFA could not be higher. I was on a pedestal. It seemed that I would be able to exorcize the ‘failures' of 2000 and 2002, and the disappointment of 2004.

And so we have reached the 2006 World Cup. At the beginning of this book I said that I did not want to be defined by what happened there, but I recognize that it is a hugely important part of my story. And it seems to me that the best way to start that part is to share extracts of the diary I wrote to email home to friends and family. I hope the diary will take you behind the walls of the grounds of the hotel outside Frankfurt, past the security guards and into the day-to-day life of a referee at the global event that is a World Cup.

It was certainly a strange existence. We were watched 24/7 and yet we were very much on our own in the sense that nobody else could understand the pressures we were under.

We needed to talk to each other and so we developed a code of signals involving the doors of our rooms. When the doors were closed, little white discs showed on the outside. If we double-locked our rooms, little red discs showed. According to our code of signals, if the door was wedged ajar, it meant, ‘Come in, please!' If the disc was white it
meant, ‘Knock, and I'll probably welcome some company'. If the disc was red, it meant, ‘Give me a bit of peace for a while'.

At the end of every day in Germany, last thing before bed, I sat down at my laptop and tapped in a diary entry – well, almost every day; if I missed one, I caught up the next day. I emailed those diary entries home to close family and close friends in England.

Of course, you know how this part of my story ends. Reading the diary again in order to write this book, I found that it included some prescient thoughts and some spooky coincidences before I got to that game in Stuttgart. It also included some comments which, with hindsight, look pretty daft. The good stuff and the bad stuff is all genuine – I haven't added anything later.

Reading the diaries has also made me realize that I need to explain the part played by Mars bars. No, they were not a staple of my diet, but in the April before the World Cup began, Mars started selling their eponymous chocolate bar in England with the packaging altered. The word ‘Mars' was replaced by the word ‘Believe' – to show support for the national football team.

In my emails, I used the Mars slogan – Believe – about England and, as you will see, I started to use it about myself; tentatively and with mocking self-awareness. I think, on reflection, that I was telling the close circle of mates and relatives who were receiving my emails to believe in me. But I was also instructing myself to believe because previous tournaments had ended so badly for me.

As I say, we all know how this part of my story ended. This is how it started …

Friday, 26 May 2006

Arrived at the Kempinski hotel that will be our home for the next thirty-three to forty-six days. It was only a twenty-minute drive from Frankfurt airport. We'd been here for two courses and so felt at home. I have room 121, Phil is next door in 122 and Glenn is next in 123. Opposite us are my friend Peter Prendergast and his assistants.

All corridors have photographs of sports people and major matches. Franz Beckenbauer had signed his photo on top of the glass and a cleaner, obviously not a local, had tried to get it off!

One photo shows the England team from the 1966 Final. Next to them are the referee and one linesman – it has been cropped to cut off the Russian linesman who gave ‘that goal'. Oh, the Germans and their humour!

Picked up all our kits. There are four different coloured match shirts, none of which is black. So let's hope the diet is successful.

There are five different training shirts. That doesn't augur well – lots of work. My boots do not fit but they have promised to change them in time for the tournament. In the meantime I have boots that are half a size too big. I'll put in extra inserts.

Before leaving England I had a meal out with Julia and it was a late night with a lot of alcohol. It will be my last alcohol until I have refereed my first World Cup 2006 match. That means none tonight and none for at least two weeks but my liver will appreciate the opportunity to recover.

I tried on all the kit before finally going to bed.

Saturday, 27 May 2006

Fitted for the official uniform – a very sharp pinstripe number, very dark blue with blue shirts and a black and grey tie. The trousers were clearly somebody else's (and not a referee, I hope, as they were massive on me). They found another pair.

There was a ‘gentle warm-up' run at 11.30 am for all of us, through the woods which adjoin the hotel. It showed the scale of what we are involved in – 100 people running in identical clothing. Police had to stop traffic on roads as we crossed.

The pace was fairly quick, the terrain was rough and, because of the numbers, it was impossible to avoid tripping over stones. A few runners started dropping out with injuries and – disaster! – one of them was Peter Prendergast, the Jamaican referee who got me through the last World Cup with his wisdom and friendship.

He went over on a large stone and was clearly in distress. We had to finish the run but when it was over, about an hour later, I went to find him. His knee, which has been bothering him for the past month, had finally given way. FIFA will send him for a scan. He already knows that he has a meniscus problem and the scan will show that, so Prendy is really concerned.

After lunch, Phil, Glenn and I did our predictions for the tournament. We went through every match, made forecasts, worked out the tables and then made predictions for the knockout stages. Well, we were bored. Phil and Glenn went for the predictable Brazil win in the Final. I went for an England victory. IT'S COMING HOME. BELIEVE!

Sunday, 28 May 2006

Sunday is weigh-in day. Luckily it was before breakfast. First week and I was 95 kg (15 st) and have body fat of 16 per cent. Not too bad. It will be interesting to see how this changes now that I have given up alcohol.

Peter was told that it is unlikely he will be able to stay at the camp. The scan revealed two tears which will need an operation and then take at least four weeks to heal. The scan indicated that there was already a problem and FIFA feel he should have told them.

Lunch was followed by an appointment with the doctor who kindly removed two splinters from my fingers – a gardening injury from Tring.

We had training at 3.30. It proved that my boots were definitely too big for me. But luckily when I got back there was a pair of the right size waiting for me.

A massage and dinner was followed by a long chat with Peter. He'd had it confirmed that he and his team will be sent home. They will probably leave on Tuesday.

Monday, 29 May 2006

We started the day with a session on relaxation. Many people were still getting over jet lag, yet were woken at 7 am for breakfast in order to go to a relaxation technique session! We were told to sit comfortably, close our eyes, relax and not worry if we fell asleep – just as well for some of us.

Light training – no more than a warm-up – was followed by some practical refereeing exercises. Local boys' teams were drafted in and set up simulated match situations for us.

Lunch was followed by a visit to the indoor pool, and then the sauna, where no clothes are allowed. Iron that tee-shirt old German lady! Oh, it's not a tee-shirt.

Next came a massage which started well. But then honey was rubbed into my back and the skin was pulled upwards to ‘invigorate the blood flow'. I had tears running down my face because the treatment was ten minutes of pure agony until the red-hot damp towel was placed on my back to remove any traces of honey, and my skin.

‘You have beautifully soft skin on your back now', said Fritz, the masochistic masseur. That should make me referee better.

Spent the evening with Peter Prendergast. He has a 10 am flight to England where he and his assistants are going for a week to ‘chill'. The assistants are then going home but Peter will return to Germany and meet up with his wife – who expected to be watching him referee. Now they will try to see games together.

I will try to organize tickets for him to see the England v Jamaica game at Old Trafford while he is in England and have offered him the use of my car. I wish I could do more for him. Overall, a depressing end to the day.

Wednesday, 31 May 2006

The fitness test. The European referees were together in the first run, which meant an 8.30 departure from the hotel. All were confident, but there was still apprehension in the air.

We all passed very competently.

Back to the hotel for a massage and bath. Phil and Glenn arrived back after passing their test but Phil reported a calf strain. The injury could prevent our getting an early game. It will be in the minds of the committee when they make the appointments tomorrow.

Phil stayed in his room to rest while Glenn and I went into the centre of Frankfurt. This is no tourist city and so we
spent an hour in Starbucks having coffees and cake – but it was nice to get out of the hotel.

Day six ended with me itching to get into action. I was worried about Phil and acutely aware that a bad injury to any of us will mean no game.

Friday, 2 June 2006

Went running in the forest with the German trio – forty minutes at good pace to really blow out the cobwebs and get the blood pumping.

Phil seems to be improving slowly and we talked about him being more open about how he feels and how he is progressing. Clearly, we are getting worried about missing out on a match.

This afternoon we had another technical session, but I took no notes at all. Then off to an official dinner in our FIFA uniforms. The slight pinstripe makes us look like bankers. I said bankers. The dinner was at an old monastery. The champagne took a real bashing from the Australians but water was the order of the day for England. We were all presented with a watch and a World Cup commemorative coin. The coin is very nice but the watch is a Casio and looks like a five euros special from Frankfurt market.

Home by midnight, having left at 6 pm. Mark Shield, the Aussie ref, complained that the new, abstemious Graham Poll is boring. He'd like the old one back.

Late night after a chat with Julia. I am really missing her now.

Saturday, 3 June 2006

After a psychology session we set off for an eagerly anticipated high-intensity training session. Most referees and all
the Europeans wanted some hard training (most had a good drink last night and wanted to run it off). But the session left the fitter guys wanting more. FIFA have to aim the training at the average and not the fittest. So it looks like another early-morning run tomorrow.

José Maria Garcia Aranda, Director of FIFA's Department of Refereeing, interrupted training to tell us about an extra meeting at 3 pm – to announce the first sixteen appointments. After lunch we were told we could collect an advance against the daily allowances to be paid at the end of the tournament. Some refs moved quicker than they ever did in training to join the queue for the $1000.

Before the appointment meeting, Phil, Glenn and I discussed the possibilities, like kids at the start of an adventure. We ruled out the matches we knew we would not get. We discounted the fixtures in England's group, and all of the matches in the group which should provide England's opposition in the first knockout round. We speculated about where we would go and what game we would get but, as the appointments were announced, the matches we considered possibilities all passed without our names. We began to fret that we would miss out. Then we got a game none of us had thought of – South Korea v Togo. I was disappointed initially but we eventually agreed it is the perfect game for us to ease our way into the tournament. It will need careful handling but is low profile.

Our trio had a personal meeting with the psychologist this afternoon – to allow us all to air how we are feeling and to give me feedback on some profiling done during the selection course. The profiling results exactly matched what they were looking for in a top referee – quite a relief. I've not been wasting my time for the past twenty-six years. They say I am
confident, sociable and a leader of a group. They spent several thousand euros on what you could have told them for nothing!

We watched England beat Jamaica 6–0 in their last friendly before coming out here. That Peter Crouch hat-trick means anything is now possible. Crouch will probably win the Golden Boot and
Celebrity Come Dancing
. It has been a good day.

Sunday, 4 June 2006

Some of us started the day with a run in the woods. Markus Merk and Mark Shield joined us and Shield decided to push the pace along. That made it a good session and ideal for me before the Sunday weigh-in. I have lost 1.5 kg. Maybe the alcohol ban is having some affect.

Another psychology session (more relaxation techniques for forty minutes) was followed by the official training session. It was the worst so far. The fitness coaches only spent thirty minutes with us and then came two hours of advice about training. You would not believe how basic it was.

In the afternoon we were offered an optional visit to a Zeppelin museum (!). Only a handful of takers for that. I spent the afternoon watching Holland against Australia, a friendly which was refereed by Mike Dean. He had a good game and it was a lot better than looking at old Zeppelins.

After dinner we took over the referees' lounge with its massive flat-screen TV and DVD player and watched
Gladiator
. We tried to put Spanish subtitles on for the South Americans but the only available subtitles were Hungarian, Icelandic and Norwegian – everything but Spanish. Still, the ‘Kempinski Odeon' was better than another night doing Kakuro puzzles.

Monday, 5 June 2006

Chased up missing laundry and then got some excellent news from Phil. He had been for a run in the forest and felt absolutely fine.

There was a media ‘open' event at 1.30, which made the tournament feel closer.

At dinner I got a few minutes with José Maria who resolved something that had been concerning me. My first match is to be in Frankfurt and there were plans for us just to go there from the refs' hotel. José Maria confirmed that we can have a different hotel for the evening before our game to develop a team ethos between the five officials and the match assessor.