Winston BiscuitThe Enfield Royal71 a lot of what I know is proprietary information that I'm not allowed to talk about.
genomeWinston BiscuitThe Enfield Royal71 a lot of what I know is proprietary information that I'm not allowed to talk about.
I'm going to use that in debate from now on.
"I disagree with your viewpoint - I could argue against it and prove you wrong, but I'm not allowed to say."
Snowflake Royal My personal view was that the elbow was an misjudged arm across the chest that rode up and hit the face rather than actual violent conduct, so I was just about ok with the yellow.
I think it was clear the officials had seen it, so I'm presuming VAR decided that was a fair interpretation.
On the Kirby pen shout, it wasn't VAR that took ages, it was the ref thinking and watching the replays. She could have cut that time dramatically herself. Personally I thought it was a foul, but a fair advantage played given we then got a shot at goal.
I don't think the Cameroon players got upset because the decisions weren't on screen. They got upset because they WERE on screen and felt Duggan should have been called off and that the butt of a heel when walking away from goal in the build up shouldn't be called off. I think they were also (justifiably) upset that a loose control and claim by the keeper was called a free kick that they conceded the first goal to.
The final yellow, I've mixed views on. You can give the benefit and say it's just poorly timed, or you can say it's cynical and nasty. It wasn't a clear leg breaker though, more a nasty rake.
Hoop Blah
Replays can help a referee be more informed, which is a good thing, but it doesn't make the decision less debatable in matters of opinion.
SanguineHoop Blah
Replays can help a referee be more informed, which is a good thing, but it doesn't make the decision less debatable in matters of opinion.
As I've tried to express before, this is the cultural acceptance problem when it comes to VAR. It doesn't matter whether or not you agree with the decision, and it doesn't matter if the issue reviewed remains a matter of opinion. VAR gives officials an opportunity to refine that opinion - used well (and as I've said before, I'd like to see VAR officials recommending a course of action) it will improve the game. But fans need to get their head around why it is being used, beyond the yes/no decisions like over the goal line.
exileinleeds Remember when you were a child, there was always that one kid who 'did karate' - but couldn't fight because 'his hands were licensed as deadly weapons' and he wasn't allowed to....but he was at least a black belt if not more....
The Enfield Royal71exileinleeds Remember when you were a child, there was always that one kid who 'did karate' - but couldn't fight because 'his hands were licensed as deadly weapons' and he wasn't allowed to....but he was at least a black belt if not more....
I actually have a brown belt in Judo and will be more then willing to show my moves off in a controlled environment. I can be extremely dangerous if I want too and if it is not in the correct and controlled manner. I was on track for the Olympic squad possibly and a black belt before I tore my ACL
Hoop BlahSnowflake Royal My personal view was that the elbow was an misjudged arm across the chest that rode up and hit the face rather than actual violent conduct, so I was just about ok with the yellow.
I think it was clear the officials had seen it, so I'm presuming VAR decided that was a fair interpretation.
On the Kirby pen shout, it wasn't VAR that took ages, it was the ref thinking and watching the replays. She could have cut that time dramatically herself. Personally I thought it was a foul, but a fair advantage played given we then got a shot at goal.
I don't think the Cameroon players got upset because the decisions weren't on screen. They got upset because they WERE on screen and felt Duggan should have been called off and that the butt of a heel when walking away from goal in the build up shouldn't be called off. I think they were also (justifiably) upset that a loose control and claim by the keeper was called a free kick that they conceded the first goal to.
The final yellow, I've mixed views on. You can give the benefit and say it's just poorly timed, or you can say it's cynical and nasty. It wasn't a clear leg breaker though, more a nasty rake.
And this post is a good example of why replays don't necessarily help matters too much.
The ref has to take their time over making a decision when watching replays. It's the heat of battle and there's probably millions watching on TV and in the ground, who are ready to jump on any decision, so they're going to watch it more times than necessary because it could be career threatening to make a mistake.
In terms of the specific decisions you mention, most comment I've seen has been the opposite. The back-pass was a back-pass for me, and if there's any doubt there the keeper should just clear it. The two offside decisions were correct, although I'd argue the Cameroon player wasn't gaining any advantage by being marginally offside and so I would rather that wasn't given.
Replays can help a referee be more informed, which is a good thing, but it doesn't make the decision less debatable in matters of opinion.
Snowflake RoyalThe Enfield Royal71exileinleeds Remember when you were a child, there was always that one kid who 'did karate' - but couldn't fight because 'his hands were licensed as deadly weapons' and he wasn't allowed to....but he was at least a black belt if not more....
I actually have a brown belt in Judo and will be more then willing to show my moves off in a controlled environment. I can be extremely dangerous if I want too and if it is not in the correct and controlled manner. I was on track for the Olympic squad possibly and a black belt before I tore my ACL
Dd, you're a worthwhile person in your own right. There's really no need for all these extravagant claims to impress people. It doesn't work and you don't need validation.
Snowflake Royal In 10 years time people will be wondering what all the fuss was about VAR being Introduced.
Matthew Syed wrote in The Times All my worst fears about VAR are being systematically confirmed. A well-intentioned innovation has slowed the game down, undermined its zest and corroded its fluidity. Indeed, VAR is gradually turning football into a branch of the justice system. A game constructed upon joy and the spontaneous outpouring of emotion has become trapped in a web of legalese.
Lest we forget, the purpose of football is not the strict enforcement of codes and rules. The teleology of the game does not consist in the pursuit of absolute accuracy in adjudication. On the contrary, the purpose of football is joy. As a branch of modern life, it creates moments of collective euphoria of a unique and compelling kind.
Neuroscientists have suggested that the eruption of ecstasy that fans experience in the stands, or even while watching at home or in the pub, is comparable to the effects of taking an opioid. They point to the evidence from brain scanners that reveals the activation of pleasure centres of the brain such as the ventral pallidum and the insular cortex.
However this conception is mistaken. The “joy” of an opioid is individualistic. Heroin addicts become detached from reality, falling ever deeper into stupefied solipsism. The joy of football, on the other hand, is quintessentially social. It consists of the contagion that transmits from the footballer who has just scored — a blockbuster strike, perhaps, or the drama of Raheem Sterling’s well-taken stoppage-time “winner” against Tottenham Hotspur in the quarter-finals of the Champions League — to the stands and, from there, to the football-watching world.
We have all seen pictures that reveal this symbiosis between participants and spectators, players and fans; a Mexican wave of euphoria that doesn’t just stimulate the pleasure centres of the brain but creates a curious (and thrilling) sense of oneness. Anthropologists argue that since at least the time of the Neolithic revolution, when the first larger-scale tribes and clans emerged, humans have had this peculiar capacity for what we could call collective emotion.
Football triggers these feelings for many complex reasons but principal among them is the phenomenon of “the goal”. The founders of the game inadvertently happened upon a rather beautiful formula: they gave the principal event rarity value. Many matches finish without a single goal being scored and most end with fewer than four. Superficial observers of football have often construed this lack of goalscoring as a weakness but it is, in fact, the game’s great strength.
It explains why goals are met with delirium, such as when Marco Tardelli scored for Italy against West Germany in the World Cup final in 1982, or Falcão’s strike for Brazil against Italy earlier in that tournament. If you are near a computer, look at the scenes with which these goals were met or take a gander at the Sergio Agüero goal that won the Premier League title for Manchester City in 2012 — fans transitioning from despair to ecstasy in the time that it took for a small ball to ripple the net.
These events send tremors not just through the emotional fabric of football stadiums but through the emotional fabric of modern nation states. I am guessing most of us can remember where we were when David Platt volleyed home against Belgium or Gary Lineker equalised against West Germany in 1990. We may even remember the stranger we hugged at such a moment, as I did in a pub in Richmond when David Beckham scored his penalty against Argentina in 2002.
This kind of intense emotion cannot be put on hold by pressing a ventricle pause button, only to be reactivated a few minutes later when a sequence of moving frames have been put through the meat grinder of remote officialdom. This kind of spontaneous joy cannot be placed in suspended animation while a quasi-jury sit in a satellite truck poring over whether a player was in an offside position in the build-up to the goal, or whether the goalkeeper stepped a millimetre off the line during a penalty, before communicating their verdict to an on-field referee via an earpiece.
Justice is an important consideration in all sport. Players who work hard to get to the top have a reasonable expectation that the rules will be applied to within a close approximation of the truth. Football would descend into absurdity if interpretation of the laws were to become decoupled from empirical reality. But to elevate the principle of accuracy above that of spontaneity is to misunderstand the meaning of football, as well as its anthropology, a point that is becoming ever more apparent during the Women’s World Cup.
The debate over VAR has, in this sense, been misconceived. The technology should have been introduced only after it had been shown to work instantly or, at the very least, not appreciably slower than it takes for an assistant referee to raise a flag. As the reality of this technology takes hold, we are going to increasingly see players and fans swallowing their emotions, holding back the floodgates of joy, only to be replaced by a more monochrome reality.
Over time, and as the attrition bites ever deeper, this could prove calamitous to football.
Hoop BlahSnowflake Royal In 10 years time people will be wondering what all the fuss was about VAR being Introduced.
And the game will be worse off for it, especially for the match going fan who will have become (more of) a side issue to the arm chair fan who wants to argue every decision on Twitter.
Snowflake RoyalHoop BlahSnowflake Royal In 10 years time people will be wondering what all the fuss was about VAR being Introduced.
And the game will be worse off for it, especially for the match going fan who will have become (more of) a side issue to the arm chair fan who wants to argue every decision on Twitter.
Don't buy that for a second.
Hoop BlahMatthew Syed wrote in The Times All my worst fears about VAR are being systematically confirmed. A well-intentioned innovation has slowed the game down, undermined its zest and corroded its fluidity. Indeed, VAR is gradually turning football into a branch of the justice system. A game constructed upon joy and the spontaneous outpouring of emotion has become trapped in a web of legalese.
Lest we forget, the purpose of football is not the strict enforcement of codes and rules. The teleology of the game does not consist in the pursuit of absolute accuracy in adjudication. On the contrary, the purpose of football is joy. As a branch of modern life, it creates moments of collective euphoria of a unique and compelling kind.
Neuroscientists have suggested that the eruption of ecstasy that fans experience in the stands, or even while watching at home or in the pub, is comparable to the effects of taking an opioid. They point to the evidence from brain scanners that reveals the activation of pleasure centres of the brain such as the ventral pallidum and the insular cortex.
However this conception is mistaken. The “joy” of an opioid is individualistic. Heroin addicts become detached from reality, falling ever deeper into stupefied solipsism. The joy of football, on the other hand, is quintessentially social. It consists of the contagion that transmits from the footballer who has just scored — a blockbuster strike, perhaps, or the drama of Raheem Sterling’s well-taken stoppage-time “winner” against Tottenham Hotspur in the quarter-finals of the Champions League — to the stands and, from there, to the football-watching world.
We have all seen pictures that reveal this symbiosis between participants and spectators, players and fans; a Mexican wave of euphoria that doesn’t just stimulate the pleasure centres of the brain but creates a curious (and thrilling) sense of oneness. Anthropologists argue that since at least the time of the Neolithic revolution, when the first larger-scale tribes and clans emerged, humans have had this peculiar capacity for what we could call collective emotion.
Football triggers these feelings for many complex reasons but principal among them is the phenomenon of “the goal”. The founders of the game inadvertently happened upon a rather beautiful formula: they gave the principal event rarity value. Many matches finish without a single goal being scored and most end with fewer than four. Superficial observers of football have often construed this lack of goalscoring as a weakness but it is, in fact, the game’s great strength.
It explains why goals are met with delirium, such as when Marco Tardelli scored for Italy against West Germany in the World Cup final in 1982, or Falcão’s strike for Brazil against Italy earlier in that tournament. If you are near a computer, look at the scenes with which these goals were met or take a gander at the Sergio Agüero goal that won the Premier League title for Manchester City in 2012 — fans transitioning from despair to ecstasy in the time that it took for a small ball to ripple the net.
These events send tremors not just through the emotional fabric of football stadiums but through the emotional fabric of modern nation states. I am guessing most of us can remember where we were when David Platt volleyed home against Belgium or Gary Lineker equalised against West Germany in 1990. We may even remember the stranger we hugged at such a moment, as I did in a pub in Richmond when David Beckham scored his penalty against Argentina in 2002.
This kind of intense emotion cannot be put on hold by pressing a ventricle pause button, only to be reactivated a few minutes later when a sequence of moving frames have been put through the meat grinder of remote officialdom. This kind of spontaneous joy cannot be placed in suspended animation while a quasi-jury sit in a satellite truck poring over whether a player was in an offside position in the build-up to the goal, or whether the goalkeeper stepped a millimetre off the line during a penalty, before communicating their verdict to an on-field referee via an earpiece.
Justice is an important consideration in all sport. Players who work hard to get to the top have a reasonable expectation that the rules will be applied to within a close approximation of the truth. Football would descend into absurdity if interpretation of the laws were to become decoupled from empirical reality. But to elevate the principle of accuracy above that of spontaneity is to misunderstand the meaning of football, as well as its anthropology, a point that is becoming ever more apparent during the Women’s World Cup.
The debate over VAR has, in this sense, been misconceived. The technology should have been introduced only after it had been shown to work instantly or, at the very least, not appreciably slower than it takes for an assistant referee to raise a flag. As the reality of this technology takes hold, we are going to increasingly see players and fans swallowing their emotions, holding back the floodgates of joy, only to be replaced by a more monochrome reality.
Over time, and as the attrition bites ever deeper, this could prove calamitous to football.
Silver Fox Another bad night for VAR last night, White's goal should have been given, there has to be a margin of error and the advantage given to the attacker when it's that close, the pictures and frame speed literally aren't available to definitively say she was offside there.
As for the penalty, absolutely crazy that there's nearly five minutes between the "foul" and the penalty actually being taken for an incident that was hardly definitive.
It's going to ruin the football watching experience
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