A tackle goes in that doesn’t look pretty. As the video assistant referee (VAR), you listen to the referee weighing up his options to his assistants, who are chipping in with their views, and eventually you see a yellow card waved in the direction of the miscreant. Your work begins. An imaginary clock starts ticking in your head and the sense of foreboding is palpable.
A tackle goes in that doesn’t look pretty. As the video assistant referee (VAR), you listen to the referee weighing up his options to his assistants, who are chipping in with their views, and eventually you see a yellow card waved in the direction of the miscreant. Your work begins. An imaginary clock starts ticking in your head and the sense of foreboding is palpable.
You start reviewing replays in full speed, trying to gain a sense of what just happened. How much force or intensity was there? Did the offending player travel from distance? Was he out of control? Was he off the ground? Was he using one foot or both? Were his studs showing?
So far, it is inconclusive. Yes, the guilty party has lunged into the challenge but he got a touch on the ball. One boot was raised, and there seems to be a glancing blow to the opponent’s shin. The player has come from close range. A yellow card is probably enough, just.
A quick glance at the live feed reveals around a dozen players are in the referee’s ear, jostling with him and each other in a desperate attempt to get the decision changed or upheld.
Aggressive voices can be heard, albeit faintly through the ref’s microphone. One lot are protesting that “he got the ball” – as if that absolves their team-mate of guilt – while the other side claim that “he’s done him”. Meanwhile, the stricken victim is still receiving treatment.
With the imaginary clock in your head thumping ever louder, your pulse quickening and, in the knowledge that everything you say and do is being filmed by an ‘integrity camera’ in your peripheral vision, you move to slow motion.
Everything now looks different. The contact is above the ankle, which is always hard to defend, and suggests a red card would have been better. The studs appear to be planted in the opponent’s leg, which looks terrible in super slo-mo or a still frame.
The assistant VAR (AVAR) sitting alongside you, who has access to the TV footage, says the broadcaster is focusing on the point of contact.
In your mind, the tackle deserved a red card. But the VAR’s job is not to re-referee the game. It is to assess whether the on-field decision constituted a clear error. At the Premier League clubs’ behest, the threshold for intervention is high, and there is a strong desire to avoid sending referees to the pitch-side monitor for ‘a second look’ for fear that would happen several times in every match.
By now, more than a minute has passed and you can hear the fans’ impatience, cruelly starved as they are of information in the stadium. A graphic on the big screen saying the VAR is still considering his options is doing nothing to appease the frustrated masses, who would much prefer to be watching some live action.
The walls and ceiling feel like they’re closing in, your mouth is dry and your brow growing damp. Still inclined to the view that the referee should review his decision at the pitch-side monitor, you check in with your AVAR. But they are less convinced and feel that it’s an example of “referee’s call” – in other words, it’s in the margins, so better leave it alone.
It’s now nearly two minutes since the tackle went in, the same replays are being recycled endlessly on your screen, and a decision has to be made. If in doubt, stay out, so you open the microphone and tell the referee: “Confirming the on-field decision of caution. Check complete.”
The crowd groans and boos while a chant can be heard revealing what some fans would like to do to VAR in general, and quite possibly this VAR in particular. Everyone wonders why the game had to be delayed for two minutes, only for the original decision to stand.
After the match, you and your AVAR head to the office, where referee managers watch all the feeds as they come in. Instantly, you know how your decision has landed. In the worst-case scenario, their ashen faces will contain bewildered expressions betraying their reaction.
You climb into the car and the post-match phone-in is underway. A platform is only afforded to those who dispute the decision, for whom it was “stonewall” from the moment they saw the challenge go in. Callers demand that you be sacked and never allowed near a football match again. The hosts are always on the players’ side and join the pile-on.
The following week’s appointments reveal that you have been ‘rested’ from VAR duties. Maybe you’ll be fourth official 300 miles from home, packed off to the EFL or omitted altogether. Fair enough – referees have got to be held accountable, right?
Some say ex-players would be better VARs than those who have refereed hundreds of matches but I can’t see it happening.
Players may have an unfair reputation for being a bit thick, but surely none of them would be daft enough to put themselves through this ordeal for a few quid.
Graham Scott was a Premier League referee from 2014-25, and a VAR in more than 100 matches
Category: General Sports
