Hey,
In March, I’ll be picking up my whistle for the first time in 11 months.
Crikey, how time flies.
Refereeing is the one part of my life that I’ve struggled to keep with me as I move around the country and Europe.
You have to be affiliated, you have to be in communication with appointments secretaries, you have to be in the system. I’ve tried picking up odds and ends when I can, but I’m rarely in one place long enough to make it work. Some FAs are slow to reply, some don’t need refs, some months there are no games on.
But in March, in Cornwall, I’m going to be back on the grass and getting yelled at by 22+ blokes on Saturday afternoons.
Bring it on, baby.
I’ve written about my love for refereeing way back when I first started this little snail mail operation. Most people don’t get it. I’m not sure I do entirely. There’s something about it, though, that really works for me. Being involved in the game I love, doing right by it and its players and its laws, facilitating a fair and safe game, pushing myself physically and mentally, getting the big calls right (and some of them wrong).
I’m a bit nervous—I need to brush up on things a bit—but more than anything else, I’m just so excited to be back out there, flipping that coin and blasting that whistle to get things going again.
It’s like a return to a part of myself I’d lost, but never forgotten.
Need a little help moving slower?
Ease your way out of Friday afternoon with this newsletter, a nice cup of something, and a little background music. Steal my setup if you aren't sure where to start.
After I press send, I’m brewing up some damn tasty beans from Odd Coffee, one of Madeira’s only roasters. I got this bag from some friends who couldn’t quite finish it before leaving (thanks again, Ruud and Mia) and it’s a joy. Maybe it’s the dull dark supermarket roast I’ve been stomaching, but these beans are like drinking a cup of strawberry jam. Brightness! Fruitiness! Depth! It’s like a return to a part of myself I’d lost, but never forgotten. Funny, that.
And if you're looking for this week's musical recommendation, return to yourself of 11 years ago and imagine hearing Covet by Basement for the first time. In fact, no need, as I’d never heard it before this week. Nice to travel back in time to find something that fits sweetly today. It’s scuzzy, it’s soaring, it’s a bit emo and a bit angsty. Like if Pixies smoked a bit more and kicked a few dents in their amps. A proper song for a proper brew and a proper good March on the horizon.
Take it easy,