Graham Kelly: Charisma helps referees to keep control

Eight hundred or so people at Old Trafford talking about a referee would normally spell trouble, but that was far from the case last Sunday when a diverse group of football folk were persuaded to pay £35 to attend a dinner in memory of the former international referee Neil Midgley, who died earlier this year, the proceeds going to St Ann's Hospice.

As those paying guests included the former Manchester United and Scotland players, Pat Crerand and Denis Law, neither of whom were noted for placidity towards match officials, it can be assumed that Midgley's reputation transcended the barriers which, sadly, cause so much damage to player-referee relationships today. He certainly made a considerable name for himself as a compère and raconteur.

The evening commenced with an apology that the customary minute's silence had been scrapped because the only stopwatch available was Sir Alex Ferguson's and we wanted to be home before the milkman.

All the many speakers performed admirably to a tight brief, but my favourite was the one who spoke from the closest personal memory of Midgley, the former Nottingham Forest, Leeds United and Everton favourite, Duncan Mackenzie.

He told a story about the psychology that the Forest manager Brian Clough practised on another referee of the era, Don Shaw. The official awards a first-half penalty against Forest for a late tackle by Kenny Burns on the edge of the penalty area. Mackenzie has the gift of impersonating the Clough drawl. Clough comes up behind the referee as they are going out for the second half.

"Don. A word. I've had a chat with Mr Burns and he won't be troubling you with any more tackles like that. Now are you absolutely sure it was inside the penalty area?" "Er. Yes, Brian, my linesman flagged it." "Oh, blaming the bloody linesman now, are we? You make sure you have a very good second half, Don".

Mackenzie's account of how Midgley extricated himself from the situation of a drawmaster realising at the very last minute that the prize awaiting a wheelchair-bound raffle winner was a trouser press was an absolute peach.

A good part of Midgley's success as a referee was down to his rapport with the players. His quick wit and banter made him the ultimate players' man. But he did not reach the Fifa list just by wisecracking. He was as bright as a button, knew the game well enough to anticipate where play would flow and was fit enough to arrive as the ball dropped. He was therefore able to impose his personality swiftly, which, after all, is the key to man management.

I saw Denmark's Kim Nielsen referee the Dortmund march at Anfield. He might have awarded Liverpool a penalty for Christian Wörns' tug on Michael Owen, but such was his command no one argued too much. I know the players were well pleased a few days later with Graham Poll's handling of the Liverpool v Manchester United match.

Yes, both those officials have egos, but going back over the years so did George Courtney, Pat Partridge, Jack Taylor, Jim Finney and Arthur Ellis. Shrinking violets never commanded the world stage.

Whether Neale Barry, of Scunthorpe, was on a community service order when he controlled Blackpool versus Stoke City last Tuesday I have no idea, but control it he did. Personality again. Should Vinnie Jones keep his promise to make a comeback in the Nationwide League, Philip Don will need no further incentive to keep his men on their toes. Barry booked the local favourite for diving, and if Sepp Blatter has his way, this will soon be a red-card offence.

I saw a player sent off for aiming a kick at an opponent the other day and his club chairman immediately launched an appeal to the Football Association on the grounds that it was only a little kick.

How can referees be expected to pursue a career path when it is littered by paymasters with no more backbone than a garden snail? Why does not television provoke some lively debate by putting up someone who will challenge Andy Gray and others when they criticise referees' decisions, someone who is prepared to argue the referee's case? Are they afraid of upsetting the managers by taking an unfashionable line? Neil Midgley could be an argumentative cuss at times, particularly as president of the League referees. He would have had a dilemma had he been invited to forget the lads and accept the élite retainer his abilities would have commanded today.

One thing he would not have taken is all the rubbish that is flung at referees now. He might have been rendered temporarily speechless at the news that the hospice received £40,000 in his name. Or at the notion of a club solemnly appealing over a "little kick".

grahamkelly@btinternet.com