Rugby exclusive Life with Premiership’s top referees
Charlie Morgan learns how gruelling workouts and meticulous analysis are only part of the story for game’s elite officials
“This takes me back,” declares Matthew Carley, who sent off England prop Joe Marler on Saturday at the AJ Bell Stadium in Salford. The rangy, amusing 33-year-old breaks from some stretches to shuffle his shoulders as club classic Show Me Love by Robin S pulses across the gym. Carley’s dancing draws a laugh from Sara Cox, the RFU’S first professional female referee.
Welcome to Twickenham Stadium, and the first day of the working week for the best full- and part-time officials in England. The camaraderie among an eclectic blend of characters is upbeat and infectious – exactly as you would expect from any successful team.
A friendly Tom Foley shows me back through the tunnel to a changing room, where two more members of the Premiership panel – the engaging Ian Tempest and Wayne Barnes, a criminal barrister as well as the senior figure of this group – are locked in an earnest conversation about how the best touch-judges and television match officials communicate. Another, Karl Dickson, is on hand to wind them up when the tone becomes too serious for a Monday morning. The innate mischievousness of a scrum-half does not diminish.
Earlier this season, his first in the full-time program after retiring from playing, the 35-year-old former Harlequin caused a stir by suggesting that referees were fitter than those they oversaw. That soon makes sense.
Dedicated strength and conditioning coach Alex Reid outlines the forthcoming fitness session. Those who refereed on Sunday or had a particularly taxing match – their running loads are carefully monitored – have a ‘flush’ cycle to begin. Those who oversaw matches on Friday evening and Saturday and those feeling fresh enough have pyramid intervals to get through. So do I.
This comprises 15 seconds on, 15 seconds off, 30 on, 30 off, 45 on, 45 off, one minute on, one minute off. You climb the set and go back down the other side twice. It proves to be a sweaty 20 minutes.
Everyone heads upstairs to a fleet of Wattbikes. I am sandwiched between Barnes and Foley. Trying, and miserably failing, to keep pace with the latter, I am soon too breathless to chat to the former. Barnes reveals that he has seen amazing strides in professionalism since he started in 2005. Reid counts experience with Fulham FC, Tottenham Hotspur, the FA and England Athletics on an impressive CV. She is now into her eighth season and has clearly been a significant influence.
“I’m so proud of them,” she says. “The aim has been to encourage an autonomy about their training and we have definitely done that. Some of them hit level 21 on yo-yo tests. They often get asked if they are sevens players.” On cue, Cox comes over and asks for some jelly beans, having emptied herself on the Wattbike. “She’s a star,” grins Reid as Cox turns away again. “She’ll keep up with a lot of the lads in the running we do.”
Balance drills to hone flexibility and to help prevent injury follow.
Carley giggles on a wobble board as I topple off another balance ball: “Don’t worry mate. We’ll shift some tin in a minute.” And they do.
The referees’ two team training days, Monday and Tuesday, both feature weights and foreshadow a
week of preparation that can include helping out at club training sessions. Today, bench press and pull-ups are on the agenda. Interestingly, image is as important as function here. As long as their cardiovascular levels are up to scratch, Reid wants her charges to fill their shirts so they can have a “presence” alongside hefty players. Dickson pairs off with Hamish Smales, a former England Students, Counties and Sevens representative.
He is one of four part-time assistant referees, who oversee Championship games and run touch in the Premiership, sometimes on the same weekend.
Adam Leal is another promising up-and-comer. Over an inevitably healthy lunch in the canteen, he tells me about assisting Barnes, which he did at the Ricoh Arena on Sunday as Wasps hosted Saracens.
Prior to his matches, Barnes routinely holds a conference call with his touch-judges and TMO. They have already prepared individually, studying team selection and analysing the props on show to pick up likely scrummaging patterns.
“This isn’t so we go in with a pre-conceived idea,” Leal stresses. “We just want to know what could happen. So, for instance, we knew that [Saracens tighthead] Vincent Koch and [Wasps loosehead] Ben Harris like to bind low. We thought there might be a few collapses, but it wasn’t a problem in the end.”
Leal believes Barnes can exude calm on match-day, answering fans’ photo requests on the way to the stadium, because of this diligence beforehand.
The next section of the day, a game review, illustrates more fully what he means. In a box overlooking the Twickenham pitch, Barnes is joined by Leal and the inimitable Tony Spreadbury. Foley, who had a rare Premiership round off, is there too. Like Barnes and Leal, he has watched the game back and made notes – yet more evidence of teamwork.
By this point, less than 24 hours after the final whistle, Barnes has submitted a report that goes to both teams as well as Spreadbury, his personal coach and the RFU’S head of referees. This outlines how he feels he has managed set-pieces, breakdowns, the offside line and “high-impact decisions” leading to tries, cards or an emotional spike. Now, with his own notes, he goes through footage of the match. The detail is staggering.
With a big screen pausing regularly – once every 45 seconds, on average – Leal and Barnes discuss the occasion as they saw it play out. Spreadbury and Foley chip in with questions and observations. Throughout, accountability is palpable.
Barnes clarifies decisions and freely admits errors. He also highlights calls that he is pleased with. Grey areas and incidents that merit debate are clipped out and sent to analyst Lewis Heathorn for the group session to come. The four officials in the room do not always agree. They also applaud players for intelligence that challenges law interpretation.
Next, Barnes, Leal and Foley file out of the box. Spreadbury stays behind with the rest of the management group, among them national referee academy manager Chris White. They consider appointments for the next round of Premiership games. “We’ve got to get the right man for the right game,” says Spreadbury. “Form is a consideration. That’s tough, but it’s the world we’re in.”
All of the referees return for the final part of the day. One by one, the six men who took charge of a Premiership fixture in round 13 offer a brief presentation, giving an overview of any flashpoints, team and player behaviours and trends that could extend later into the season.
A couple of clips from each match are put to the floor for a fascinating debate that is frank yet collaborative. JP Doyle and Carley are both vocal and insightful.
Player safety and spectator experience are two constant concerns, and their razor-sharp empathy with the sport is obvious. They know to watch out for opportunistic players drop-kicking guilty conversions because there might have been a knock-on in the build-up to a try. They realise they could miss a punch-up by running towards the posts after awarding a penalty try. They believe that subtle offences that do not overly affect the flow of a game often warrant a stern word rather than a penalty.
Occasionally, a player who scraps hard and fair at the breakdown can be given the benefit of the doubt.
Tempest sums up this up brilliantly: “We could give 200 technical decisions in a game, I guess. Then nobody would come next week.”
As scrutiny on referees continues to climb while rugby matures as a professional sport, it is worth remembering the standards these men and women expect of themselves and strive to achieve.