Men staring at screens: VAR and fun in football
A definitive view on VAR that will end any and all debate, forever
Football was demoralising this past weekend.
It began on the Friday, with Erik ten Hag branding Marcus Rashford’s behaviour “unacceptable” following Manchester United’s 3-0 defeat by Manchester City the previous Sunday. The England international had the audacity to celebrate his birthday that night, instead of the days-long flagellation that is expected of sportsmen post-defeat.
Ten Hag, a man who has described the career rehabilitation of Marc Overmars as “romantic”, and who was widely reported to be in favour of Mason Greenwood returning to the Manchester United first-team, snaffled the scapegoat provided to him.
He does need all available brownie points to ensure he remains the public face of a morally bankrupt and failing institution.
Then we had Manchester City unleashing Jeremy Doku against a hapless Bournemouth, proving that even in the land of plenty there is stratification. Did the team that bought football really need another £55 million physical anomaly to terrorise Adam Smith?
And, in the shadow of Pep Guardiola’s soulless sporting dynasty, my team (Arsenal) succumbed 1-0 to another petro-play-thing, Newcastle United. The final twist of lemon in this football misery martini? It was another game soaked in the tedious controversy of VAR.
I don’t have energy to dissect the various decisions, to analyse elbows and parallax principles. I just know, after the game, I felt hollow. Mikel Arteta’s post-game comments – where he labelled the decisions as “embarrassing” and a “disgrace” – and the club statement which followed were cringe and depressing.
To have a game reduced to its officiating, justifiably or not, is sickening. A defeat should wrench at the gut, not boil the blood.
Arteta’s reaction – and those of Jurgen Klopp and Gary O’Neil – are clearly a symptom of the very same inequalities that hobbled Bournemouth just hours before. Abu Dhabi’s money has bought 100-point seasons and unsurprising trebles, leaving those chasing City squabbling over scraps. A mistake is now no longer just that; it is a catastrophe.
This is, in my opinion, the cause of the ire towards VAR. It is why every pundit and crypto-pedlar needs to offer their take on the great footballing question of our age: does VAR work?
These days acres of airwaves are dedicated to this question, with answers ranging from the sensible, to the outraged, to the conspiratorial.
However, I think it is the wrong question.
Take Monday’s game between Tottenham Hotspur and Chelsea. If you haven’t seen it, it is truly worth watching the highlights. It was a farcical game, a proper ding-dong affair. At one point, Spurs were fielding a centre-back partnership of Eric Dier and Emerson Royal, some truly glorious stuff.
Of course, VAR played its usual role. The bald men in Stockley Park failed to dismiss Cristian Romero and Destiny Udogie for two seemingly obvious offences. Both were eventually sent off later, and Tottenham collapsed.
All’s well that ends well then? Well, kind of.
Yes, Spurs were ultimately punished for their wrong-doing. The officials exacted justice, but only after two false starts. It’s not every day they’ll have Cristian “Jake LaMotta” Romero to spare their blushes. Then again, VAR also corroborated or corrected multiple decisions throughout the night.
So we were left with having to be satisfied with the idea that everything balances out eventually, and that football is a game that often relies on the interpretation of greys, not blacks and whites.
VAR is operated by humans, and humans make mistakes. Even the Coen Brothers made The Lady Killers. No matter how well-trained, or how much experience you have, you’re bound to mess up somewhere along the way.
As long as sport has existed, so has moaning about referees. Adding more screens and more camera angles only creates further decisions, further room for human nature to take effect.
VAR “working” is dependent on humans eradicating error, about as likely us developing the ability to breathe underwater.
If we agree on this, the more poignant question may be: do we want VAR? To answer that, we need to know what we want football to be.
I have my answer. During Spurs’ 2-1 win over Liverpool – itself a VAR-ravaged affair – the camera cut to Jurgen Klopp and his coaching staff erupting in rage over a perceived slight. They were fuming, twisting and yelping as if in some primeval dance. And, they were all wearing matching lilac hoodies.
It was beautiful, a lavender bush of vitriol and contempt. They looked ridiculous, and wonderful.
It was an image that perfectly encapsulates the joy of football, and of sport in general. It’s camp theatre, compelling cabaret clothed in the Lycra of hyper-masculinity.
Sport is ludicrous. Victory consists of your chosen men in matching outfits and knee socks beating the other men in matching outfits and knee socks. That doesn’t devalue football, but it does place it in the correct context. And it shows it’s meant to be fun.
What is absorbing is humans striving for perfection. Joy is not dependant on them achieving it. VAR shattered this narrative by promising ultimate accuracy, something which is unattainable, and which deep-down none of us really want.
So why punish ourselves with meandering discourse and five minute waits on millimetre discrepancies? Should we not all accept that Paul Calttenbottom may occasionally make a mistake, but that error is not calamitous, but normal?
We all need to take a deep-breath, straighten our pastel outerwear, and get back to what’s important about sport: the pursuit of excellence, and the farce that happens when we inevitably fall short. It might just be more fun.