VAR, Technology, and the Sporting Experience

By Aidan O Brien – former Wexford Gaelic Football Manager (and life-long Wolves supporter!!)

Walking down from the stands in Anfield on Sunday last I stopped to point out to my son a pair of tram line skid marks approximately 4 metres long running perpendicular to the side-line which were still visible on the turf below us. An hour earlier Pedro Neto had wheeled away from the goal at the Kop end and raced across the pitch before throwing himself to his knees and sliding towards the new stand, and a hostile reception, as he celebrated his first ever premier league goal for Wolverhampton Wanderers.

As his teammates swept in around him to share this glorious moment the stadium seemed to have been drained of all its energy except for the single source of movement and sound where the away supporters were gathered at the other end of the field. The homes fans were resigned; it was a body blow so soon after Liverpool had taken the lead and only minutes before half time.  There was no baying at the referee or attaching blame to one of their own; their silence was a grudging acknowledgement that they had been caught out by a clever piece of play and an excellent finish.

Then came the announcement that VAR was checking for possible offside. Like survivors marooned on some deserted island who hear the drone of a distant aircraft, there was suddenly a flurry of chatter, of looks exchanged that asked, ‘did you hear that too?’ There was hope in the stands but equally there was bemusement. No one had noticed any thing in real time that might have suggested an infringement, no Liverpool players had flung their arms in the air to appeal for an offside; where was this coming from?

Minutes earlier Liverpool had taken the lead in the game when Sadio Mane coolly finished an assist from Adam Llanna to the net. Then the goal was immediately disallowed by the referee who indicated that Llanna had played the ball with his arm. The brief explosion of ecstasy in the ground was quelled and the fans who had leapt to their feet slowly resumed their seats. However, VAR was going to have a look at the incident and get back to us. There are no large TV screens in the Anfield stadium so supporters are like the accused in a law court holding room waiting to be recalled to have the verdict delivered. Awaiting the decision, the Wolves fans began to chant, ‘it just isn’t football anymore’ which nobody, even the potential beneficiaries of a VAR decision could argue with. With all eyes on him, the referee drew an imaginary box in the air and pointed to the centre circle. The goal was good, the Liverpool fans were back on their feet while the Wolves players protested vehemently and their fans booed morosely.

And now again, we waited. There was little expectation this goal would be disallowed; surely it was just a routine check to confirm all was in order and that the teams would go into the half time break with a goal apiece.

Whatever else it may be, VAR certainly is not beset with sentimentality. Having decided that Liverpool should be awarded a goal minutes beforehand, it now decided that the Wolves goal should be disallowed. Had the referee’s opinion of both incidents been accepted, Wolves would go into the break with a 1 – 0 lead. Instead it was the reverse, they would go in a goal down.

That is how it finished. Liverpool continued their drive towards their first League title in 30 years and Wolves left with nothing more than a pyrrhic victory having created most of the better chances in the second half. There would be much focus in the media on the ‘goal’ decisions and on the impact VAR is having on the game generally.  Curiously the technology or its operators seem to have absorbed some of the opprobrium that was previously directed at the referees; after all, the referee didn’t deny Wolverhampton Wanderers, VAR did, correctly or otherwise.

Looking down at those skid marks left by Pedro Neto on the Anfield turf in what must have been a moment of pure exhilaration for him, you could only wonder about the place of technology in sport and wonder if it isn’t in fact taking something from the experience rather than enhancing it. When previously the official in charge made a decision, that was it; you celebrated or you mourned. You could certainly argue too, often with justification, but that was also part of the process, cathartic in some ways. John McEnroe’s cries that ‘there was chalk dust’ would be coolly referred to Hawk Eye nowadays and heaven knows what channel of expression his frustrations might take.

No doubt there is a role for using the available technology in certain circumstances but we must be careful not to rob sport of something visceral and important, that spontaneous response, the agony or the ecstasy, the immediacy of a triggered response to an event that we have witnessed with our own eyes. Sport has always accommodated human error; let’s leave it like that.